Irreversible: The Hitman & The Heiress

by Alexx Andria

  That wasn’t going to happen.

  Bree continued to prattle on, goading me. “They say it’s the motion of the ocean, not the size of the wave but I’ll just have to test out that theory. Tell me, for the sake of future comparison, would you consider yourself large in the penis department? Or average?”

  I was slightly above average, not that Bree was going to get the chance to compare.

  I’d rip a motherfucker apart if some cocksucker tried to touch my girl.

  My girl.

  Good God, Dex...have you lost your fucking mind?

  Bree tried to go on, taunting me with her future exploits, but I was finished.

  Smiling, I turned on the radio...real loud.

  She got the picture.

  But the seed had already been planted.

  I didn’t want anyone else touching Bree.

  I wanted her all to myself.

  I guess I’d have to find a way to either get over that feeling or embrace it.

  The jury was still out on which one it would be.

  18

  BREE

  We drove all day, putting New York behind us. By nightfall, we were somewhere in Connecticut and driving up another lonely country road to an old shack in the middle of nowhere.

  I waited in the truck until Dex gave me the all clear, then I grabbed my stuff and headed into the house.

  My behind hurt from sitting in the truck all day with minimal stops. Dex was like a slave driver — eye on the prize mentality — so unless I was threatening to piss myself, he had refused to make unnecessary stops.

  However, as much as my ass ached, it was nothing compared to the constant pull on my heart.

  I hated that Dex had called me out. I’d deny it until I died but he had totally nailed my lovey-dovey feelings for him.

  And it was humiliating to be so easily read — and shut down.

  Not that I shouldn’t be used to it by now.

  The guys I’d set my sights on had never reciprocated.

  I missed my camera.

  Photography was my escape, a way to see the world the way I wanted to see it.

  But Dex hadn’t thought to snag my camera when he kidnapped me.

  So, my beautiful, expensive Canon was still sitting at my apartment, collecting dust.

  At least I’d remembered to put my lens away this time.

  I had a bad habit of leaving my lens in inappropriate places — an expensive habit.

  A stupid oversight had cost me my best lens and I still hadn’t been able to replace it.

  I guess if I lived through all this, I could sell some of that expensive shit in my mom’s house.

  That was a heartening thought.

  Like that $20,000 vase.

  Who the hell paid that kind of money for a vase?

  I shook off the random thought, stopping short when I saw that it was another single bedroom house.

  Oh, hell no. “I’m not sleeping with you,” I said flatly. “I’ll take the couch.”

  His expression was as grumpy as mine and clearly not having my stance on the whole bedroom deal.

  “Bree, get your ass in the bedroom,” he growled. “I’m not going to argue with you.”

  “Damn straight we’re not going to argue because I’m not sleeping with you. End of discussion,” I maintained stubbornly. If he thought I was going to snuggle up to him after everything he’d said to me, he was an idiot. “Just find me a blanket, I’ll be fine.”

  “Bree,” he warned. “Get your motherfucking ass in that bedroom before I carry you to it. I won’t have you out here in a non-defensible position. With me, at least you’re safe.”

  There was a certain logic to his statement but I didn’t care. My pride was on the chopping block.

  “No.”

  “You’re really going to draw this line in the sand?” he asked, his eyes glittering as his mouth firmed.

  I trembled a little. “Yep.”

  “Fine.”

  Damn, the man was like a blur of motion.

  I dropped my bag, trying to get away but Dex was faster than a bullet train. I landed over his shoulder with a grunt and immediately started pummeling his back with my fists.

  “Put me down, asshole!”

  “Shut the fuck up,” he roared, slapping my ass hard enough to sting.

  He strode into the bedroom and tossed me to the bed. My teeth knocked together at the impact of hitting the hard mattress. I tried to roll away but he was on me before I could.

  “I’m not going to sleep with you!” I howled, kicking at him but his grip tightened on my ankles and dragged me toward him. “Stop it, Dex! Stop it!”

  “Someone needs to teach you some fucking manners,” he growled as he yanked my jeans down, knocking the wind out of me as he pulled me over his knee and held me in place with his forearm locked across the back of my neck.

  “What are you doing?” I screeched, wiggling to be free but his arm was like a piece of iron across my neck.

  Holy hell, was he going to...?

  The sharp whack of his palm across my bare butt shocked a cry from my lips. I’d never been spanked in my life — not as a child and certainly not as an adult — but Dex’s hand heated my ass over and over until I stopped struggling and just wept.

  Dex stopped, but the heat pulsed in my cheeks, reminding me where his hand had been.

  I gasped as he dragged his fingertips across the sensitive skin. Pain melted into pleasure as he dipped between my damp folds to find my swollen clit.

  His finger penetrated me and I shuddered as he slowly pushed in and out, mimicking how he’d made love to me only last night.

  No! Not making love. He fucked me. Get it right.

  Cold reality cut through the sensual haze and this time when I struggled, he let me go. I stood, shaking, hating him for pushing my buttons so easily, without regard to my feelings.

  Then, without dropping his stare, he sucked his finger into his mouth, licking away the moisture from my insides.

  My knees weakened as quickly as my resolve threatened but I kept hearing his sneer in my memory and I found my backbone again.

  “Enjoy it, that’s all you get,” I said, ignoring the way he watched me like a predator locked in with its prey. “I am not having sex with you again. That part of our relationship is over. Got it?”

  Sensing I wasn’t going to budge no matter how aroused he could make me, he rose and stalked toward me. I held my ground.

  “Have it your way,” he said, bypassing me to strip his shirt. “But you’re sleeping in here.”

  “You expect me to believe that we can sleep next to each other without having sex?” I retorted. “I may have been born at night but it wasn’t last night.”

  He graced me with that cold look that’d skewered me earlier, saying, “Baby girl, you were starting to bore me anyway. I’ll welcome the chance to actually get some sleep.”

  I blinked back tears but scooped up my panties. “Good,” I said. “Because I was getting bored with you, too.”

  Yeah, okay, maybe I couldn’t sell that lie as well as Dex could but I had to say something to save face.

  When he climbed into the bed and rolled onto his side, dismissing me entirely, I knew I should never call Dex’s bluff unless I was prepared to ride the consequences all the way.

  Dex’s slow, easy breathing told me he’d dropped off into dreamland quite easily.

  I wasn’t so lucky.

  As tired as I was...sleep didn’t find me for a long time.

  Truthfully, if it weren’t for the shred of dignity I was still clinging to, I would’ve shaken him awake, begged him to ignore everything I’d just said and screw me senseless because at least when I was screaming with an orgasm, I couldn’t overthink every single moment between us.

  But I wouldn’t do that.

  That tiny scrap of dignity was stronger than I realized for it kept me silent, hands stuck to my side, my body rigid.

  If I slept at all, I wasn’t sure.
/>   All I knew was that I wished I’d just kept my mouth shut.

  19

  DEX

  I couldn’t stop myself from hurting Bree.

  Everything that’d come out of my mouth after a certain point had razor edges.

  I rolled my neck, the tension cramping.

  Bree had given me the cold shoulder since waking up.

  I didn’t blame her — I’d purposefully said some shitty things.

  I wanted to admit everything I’d said were lies but what point would that prove?

  And what good would it do?

  There was a brutal kindness in breaking her heart now as opposed to later when I truly did feel those things.

  I didn’t do relationships for a reason.

  Aside from the obvious factor of my profession.

  I was damaged goods.

  There was no putting me back together again.

  And I wouldn’t subject Bree to my fucked up shit.

  She was a bright, beautiful butterfly and I was a bedraggled moth that’d hit the porch light one too many times.

  Best to focus on the real issues.

  I found Bree in the living room, reading an old book she’d found on the bookshelf.

  I doubted she was as absorbed as she tried to appear but I didn’t call her on it.

  We all had coping mechanisms.

  “You should be safe here. I need to get some supplies.” I pulled my gun free and handed it to her. “Do you know how to use this?”

  “No. My life up to this point has been devoid of killing machines.”

  I ignored her dig and gave her a quick lesson. “Someone comes through that door that isn’t me...shoot first, ask questions later. Unless it is me, then, yeah, don’t pull the trigger.”

  Tempting, I know.

  I wouldn’t put it past her to accidentally take me out after everything I’d done but my saving grace was her intelligence. Even though she might hate me right now, Bree knew I was the only one who could save her ass.

  I didn’t want to leave her but I knew the odds were slim that this safe house was also compromised. I took great care ensuring that my safe houses were way off the grid, routed through several false names, and ultimately invisible.

  But I hated having Bree out of my sight for even an hour.

  I told myself it was for her own safety but I knew that was a load of crap.

  I craved Bree like a fat kid craved cake.

  Before I changed my mind and told her to get ready to leave with me, I booked it out of the house and drove away.

  This time around, I only bought a few odds and ends for the house, yet I was still mindful of the organic or gluten-free label, and then called my broker.

  “You got answers for me?” I asked Jimmy when he picked up.

  “Hello to you, too, Sunshine,” Jimmy retorted sourly, clearly unhappy to have me on the other end disturbing his beauty sleep. “Jesus, what time is it?”

  “One of my safe houses was compromised. You wouldn’t know nothing about that would you?”

  “Like I know where any of your places are,” Jimmy answered with a snort. “And even if I did, why would I want to take you out? You’re worth more to me alive than dead.”

  That much was true. “Got any leads as to who put out that hit?” I asked.

  “I’ve got some feelers out there but honestly, Dex, you’re chasing your tail for no damn reason. Just do the job and move on. It’s a hefty payday for us both. What’s the deal?”

  I wasn’t going to satisfy Jimmy’s curiosity. Even if I’d been in a sharing mood, I don’t know how I’d explain something I didn’t understand myself.

  And I sure as hell wasn’t in the mood to listen Jimmy laugh his ass off if I admitted that I’d caught feelings for Bree.

  Yeah, feelings.

  I guess I could ignore the obvious until the cows came home but the reality was that there was something about Bree that flipped my rusty switch and I would rather eat a bullet first before letting anything happen to her.

  “Just answer the question, Jimmy,” I growled. “I need leads.”

  “Calm down, you grump,” Jimmy said, coughing the phlegm from his throat. “All right, I got something but it’s not much of anything. Your girl is operating from a fake name. Seems the girl used to be known as Caroline Burke. Her parents are listed as Lily and Richard Burke.”

  “How’d you find that out?” I asked. “I already checked her birth certificate and Breezy Grace was her legal name, born to Lily Grace.”

  “Yeah, but her father wasn’t listed, was he?”

  “No, he wasn’t,” I recalled, narrowing my gaze. Did that mean that Richard Grace was a phantom? Seeing as Bree’s mom hadn’t been very forthcoming with personal details about her other half, anything was possible.

  “So, where’d you get your intel?” I asked again.

  “We all have our secrets,” Jimmy answered, not budging. “Besides, I think you’re stupid for chasing after this mystery that has nothing to do with you. If you weren’t my cash cow I’d wash my hands of you because you’re a pain in my ass most days.”

  “Lucky for me,” I said dryly. I suppose it didn’t matter where Jimmy had gotten the information if it checked out. “I’ll be in touch.”

  I didn’t wait for Jimmy’s response and clicked off.

  Caroline Burke.

  Bree didn’t look like a Caroline.

  Be that as it may, the lead was worth chasing down.

  Maybe, with some luck, I’d find out who actually wanted Bree dead and why.

  Before that someone put an end to us both.

  20

  BREE

  As soon as Dex was gone I exhaled, feeling as if all the air in my lungs had been trapped.

  My heart fluttered wildly as I took a few deep breaths.

  Unlike Dex, who’d slept like a baby, I tossed and turned, staring at the ceiling for most of the night.

  One thing about me...I needed my sleep.

  I turned into a monster without adequate shut-eye.

  I mean, sleep was the most important thing for your brain.

  And right now I was operating on precious little of it, making rational thought difficult.

  For example, my sleep-deprived brain was telling me to punch Dex in the face for putting me over his knee like a child.

  But a different part of my brain was whispering shamefully disgusting things, like, how can I get him to do it again?

  I was not into that stuff.

  At least I didn’t think I was.

  The magazine in my hands dropped to my lap. Was I into that stuff? I’d gotten pretty wet and slippery in my downtown area.

  And my skin had been super sensitive, even the softest touch was agonizingly sensual.

  He hadn’t hurt me, per se.

  I had a few small bruises on my behind but nothing that wouldn’t fade in a day or two.

  What the hell was I thinking about? Dex, spank me, baby?

  Oh, please. No.

  I totally wasn’t asking Dex to throw me into his red room of pain.

  And there was no way in hell I was wearing a ball gag.

  Or a dog collar.

  But...being restrained was kinda hot.

  I’m just being honest!

  I’d die before I admitted this stuff to Dex but there’d been something super hot about being helpless to stop him, even though I knew in my heart Dex would never do anything I didn’t truly want.

  That man would suffer the bluest of balls before pushing me to do something I wasn’t ready for.

  It was baffling how well I knew Dex without actually knowing anything about him.

  Maybe this was delusional thinking from the Stockholm Syndrome-affected part of my brain.

  The part that kept trying to screech, “He cares about me!” instead of looking at the facts.

  Fairytales didn’t exist.

  Ergo, knights on white horses doubly didn’t exist.

  The cold, hard facts as I k
new them — Dex had been hired to kill me, changed his mind, and now we were both on the run.

  My virginity was an inconsequential part of the puzzle.

  Like box fuzz — something you swept aside before getting started.

  Everyone wanted to feel special.

  I’d spent my entire life wishing I’d been important to someone so it wasn’t so hard to connect the dots between my feelings for Dex and the situation.

  It was easy to attribute these love-sick feelings to the fact that Dex had saved my life by not taking it.

  Again, Stockholm Syndrome!

  Thank you, Mr. Killer for not murdering me. You’re so sexy...will you marry me so we can have delightfully adorable babies who may or may not inherit your questionable morals and bankrupt ethics?

  I rubbed at my forehead.

  Babies.

  I’d never worried about pregnancy before.

  Or STDs.

  Arguably the two strongest points in celibacy’s favor.

  I tried not to picture the biological explosion that happened at the moment of conception.

  Such an incredible feat of engineering happening unbeknownst to either party until six weeks later when Aunt Flo missed her monthly visit.

  No period for nine months was the one bright spot that I could think of if Dex’s super sperm had managed to knock me up.

  An unwelcome shiver raced my spine.

  Too bad it wasn’t a shiver of revulsion.

  No, actually, the shiver was accompanied with a tingle, which was a bad sign.

  Carrying Dex’s baby would be...precious...

  No.

  Correction: horrifying, life-ending, worst decision ever, completely stupid, and guaranteed to bring endless heartache.

  But, imagine a baby with my hair and his eyes.

  I allowed a tiny swoon to wash over me.

  Yes, he would make beautiful babies.

  What the hell are you doing? Mooning over a fictitious child?

  Get your head on straight.

  I closed the magazine and tossed it to the scarred wooden end table.

  I wandered to the kitchen and opened the cupboards. More MREs.