For the Thrill

by Nora Flite

  Flicking the light off, I locked up and didn't look back.

  - Chapter Seven -

  Kite

  I could smell her sweat in the car. I'd felt her constant shift between confidence and unease since the start. If she'd been anyone else—and I wish she was—I would have had her against the wall of her apartment. Shit, maybe before then. Pressing her against the car window, seeing her breath fog it up... the idea made me fidget.

  Marina was a walking, breathing being of sex and boldness. I liked that. Probably too much. I'd wanted to kiss her from the start, when she'd swayed into my life. Now, knowing what she knew about me, the idea had to be shoved aside.

  Giving in to my basest of urges was too risky. I'd told her, leaving evidence was a mistake. Fucking her and digging my teeth into her shoulder, my cock feeding between her lovely thighs, it would be a map that pointed back to me.

  Jacob and I planned to kill her, I needed to hold back.

  No risks.

  “This way,” I said, shutting Jacob's car and locking it with his keys. It beeped in the packed garage. Marina looked around, studying the space. I'd seen how wide her eyes had gotten when we rolled up to the building. “What's wrong?”

  She blinked, scanning the cars. She stopped after a second. “Nothing.”

  Following her eyes, I noticed where she was looking. My sunset colored Mercedes stood out further down the line. The corner of my lip twitched. She recognizes it, doesn't she? If she'd been stalking my habits at the bar, no doubt she'd watched me park it there before.

  Hoisting her bag, I headed towards the stairs. “Hurry up.”

  “Can't we take the elevator?” she asked, pointing.

  I didn't slow down, my shoes clopping on the first step. “Sorry, not possible.”

  Marina followed me, standing in the stairwell. Her delicate eyebrows were making deep grooves. “No cameras this way, is that it?”

  Chuckling, I looked down at her from the sixth step. “Clever. Yes, no cameras.”

  “If you don't want a record of me being here, it won't work.” Folding her arms, Marina shrugged. “Someone is going to see me eventually.”

  “Seeing isn't the same as being recorded.” Turning, I started my climb. I wondered if she knew why I wanted no record, or if she figured being seen with her 'hired client' was a poor move. “It's a long way, come on.”

  It took her a minute before she followed me.

  It took only fifteen minutes before she stopped again. “No,” she huffed, wiping sweat from her face. She'd tied her hair back during the climb. The nape of her neck was hard to look away from. “I don't think I can do this. How much higher do we have to go?”

  “I live on the twentieth floor. This is the twelfth.”

  Ignoring me, Marina pushed through the doorway on the landing. She was halfway into the hall before I reached her, snatching her by the upper arm and yanking her back into the stairwell. The door shut softly; I pushed her against the wall much less so. “What are you doing?” I hissed.

  Wide-eyed, the sheen on her cheeks glistened. “I—I was going to take the elevator.” Shaking herself, she tried to regain her composure. I knew it was hard, my fingers dug through her sweater and into her skin. “Let go of me.”

  I peeled my hands off of her excruciatingly slow. “Don't just act without telling me first. We're trying to keep a low profile.”

  “You're being too cautious,” she growled. Rubbing her arms, she erased where I had held her. “If I'm living with you guys, I'm not going to climb twenty fucking floors every single day. And I'm clearly not staying in your apartment for every hour.”

  “I said no elevator.”

  “You said you didn't want a record,” she argued. Pushing off the wall, Marina stood on her toes until we were eye level. “Is there a camera actually recording in the elevator?”

  My molars creaked. “No. It's someone watching the live feed.”

  Lifting her eyebrows, she purposefully grabbed the door handle. With me glowering, she opened it. “Then let's take the elevator, and I'll make sure not to look at the camera. If he's not recording, it doesn't even matter, though.”

  She was right, and I hated that. “Fine. But follow my lead.” Together we ducked into the elevator. Bending low, I whispered into her ear. “Back corner, your left side. That's the camera.” Grabbing her shoulders, I spun her until her face was in my chest. I heard the burst of air from between her lips. “Calm down,” I chuckled so only she could hear. “This way, he won't see anything but the back of my head. He'll think you're just another girl I'm taking home for the night.”

  Marina stiffened in my arms.

  Without looking, I bumped my elbow on the button for my floor. The doors shut, sealing the two of us away with a 'ding.' Marina's hair tickled my nose. It took every bit of control not to openly inhale her smell.

  She fit against me naturally. The front of her skirt bumped my zipper. Squeezing my eyes shut, I counted each floor.

  It was a very, very long elevator ride.

  The doors spread. Carefully, so the camera wouldn't catch a glimpse, I shoved her out with my whole body around her. In the hall, free of unwanted eyes, Marina was the first to break away. She put five steps between us, lips puckered with her heavy breathing. I swear I saw the hard tents of her nipples.

  Using her duffel bag as a barrier, I adjusted my frustrating erection. Focus, Kite. Shit.

  My door was nearby, keys already in my hand. I wanted the familiarity of my apartment. I wanted to get away from Marina. My fingers itched and throbbed.

  Cleaning my gun was on my agenda.

  “Welcome home,” I said, stepping over the threshold. She followed me in, closing the door behind her. The duffel bag dropped at my feet. “Want a tour?”

  Her jaw was slack. I saw the surprise in her face, the way she wandered towards the giant windows and the sea of twinkling lights below. “You live here?” she asked.

  Normally, this was where I would guide the woman up to the window, talk wisely about the beauty of the view—then touch her cheek and whisper about her beauty. As Marina passed me, taking the position so many had before her, I resisted. “Yup. You like it?”

  She pressed her palms on the glass. “This is amazing.” Her whisper smeared a light fog. There was a delightful sparkle in her eyes that transferred to her grin. “I sort of pictured something more gritty.”

  “What, because of what I do—or did?” I corrected myself.

  Looking back out over downtown, Marina pushed her nose on the window. “Yeah. I knew you had to make good money from your clients, but I pictured a... drug den, or something.”

  “You should have seen where I used to live.” Sliding to the counter, I grabbed a bottle of whiskey. It spilled into one of my few clean glasses. “That shit hole would have fit your preconception better.” Sipping the drink, I saw her eyeing me. Was that... concern? Don't talk about your past, idiot. “Come on. I'll show you where you're sleeping.”

  Marina left the window reluctantly. In the hall, we passed my open door. “That's where I sleep. Not bad, right?”

  She leaned into the room, noting my messy bed and the stacks of clothes. Both of us spotted the black panties. “Real nice,” she mumbled.

  Ignoring the shame that started to creep up, I kept walking. Why the fuck should I feel embarrassed? I reprimanded myself. It's not her business if I have someone's underwear lying around or not.

  Still... I wished I'd thrown them out.

  The end of the hall led to a bathroom. To the left of it was a small, spare bedroom I'd been storing random items in. The bed was clean, I hadn't slept in it... ever, actually. “Just leave your bag in here,” I said. “The bathroom is right outside. If you need anything, just grab it yourself.”

  “Wait,” she said. “You're going to bed now? It's barely after ten!”

  Leaning in the doorway, I put the rim of the glass to my lips. “You want to stay up all night with me telling stories? I have more than eno
ugh of them.”

  Her wince was brief, but it was there. “Forget it. I'll see you in the morning.”

  “Goodnight, Marina.” Gesturing with the whiskey, I headed down the hall. Behind me, I heard the distinct sound of her door shutting.

  No, I wasn't tired.

  I was anything but tired.

  Between the insanity earlier in the bar, when Marina had ambushed me—given me the thrill of nearly murdering her right there—and the confusing way her soft body had kept worming into my mind, I was wide awake. I needed to settle in and perform a normal, if obsessive act.

  Closing myself in my room, I finished the drink and got out my gun.

  ****

  My clock blinked. Three in the morning, I noted silently. I was sitting on my mattress, the Ruger polished and put away hours ago. The rest of the night, I'd sat there and tried to be patient. It should be fine. It's late enough.

  With precision, I slid to the floor. My bare feet carried me soundlessly to my door. I knew how to open it so it made the barest of 'clicks' in existence. Straining in the hall, I listened for any signs of Marina being awake. Gingerly, I put my ear on the surface of the white wood.

  If she wasn't asleep, she was pretending.

  I didn't give her enough credit to try that.

  I tested the knob. She hadn't locked it. That actually surprised me. Marina knew who I was and what I was. Could she feel so confident that the idea of me sneaking into her room, in my own apartment, and murdering her in her sleep wasn't an issue?

  Counting the seconds, I pushed the door until I could see inside. Unlike her apartment, mine was quite warm. She wasn't used to that, the swell of her hips visible on top of her blankets. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, the window blinds closed but leaking in remnants of the city.

  For a full three minutes, I studied her. She's breathing in a pattern. I can hear the whistle through a slightly open mouth. I was sure Marina was actually asleep.

  Tip-toeing further inside, I hovered over her body. Hair spilled around her shoulders, the soft skin visible in her tank-top. The shirt was long but it had ridden up to reveal the dip of her spine. She was curled tight around a pillow, knees to her chest and hands tucked under her chin.

  The way her chest swayed when she inhaled was hypnotizing.

  But I had something pressing to take care of.

  Looking down, I saw her purse. Jacob had checked her ID, I had looked for weapons. I'd spotted something else that I needed a better look at.

  Crouching, I kept one eye on her sleeping face while peeling open the small bag. Dipping a hand in, I closed on her phone. Even in the poor lighting, I could tell it was a cheap device. Turning it, I classified it for what it was: a pay by the minute burner phone.

  Well, it was a burner phone to me. I figured Marina chose it because it wasn't expensive. They went for twenty bucks and you didn't need a monthly plan. After seeing her apartment, I knew poverty when it smacked me in the face. It and I were old friends.

  Flipping the phone open, I began to scroll. She didn't even password protect it? For every clever thing Marina did, she shocked me with her naivety. Who doesn't bother to... My frown was deep. Pushing through her contact list, I knew why she hadn't bothered. She doesn't have a single saved number in here.

  Could she really have no friends?

  Furiously, I went through her list of sent and received calls. There were a few to generic numbers, but I scribbled them down anyway. Her incoming calls were essentially blank.

  Well, I guess that solves one issue. The knowledge that Marina didn't have any close friends or family, confirmed now by her phone, should have comforted me. On one level, the cautious side, it did.

  Looking at her, sleeping in her tight ball of limbs, I pushed aside the weird unease. What would keep a girl like her from getting close to anybody?

  Putting the phone back into her purse, I had it mostly closed when the noise made me jump. It was a shivering, frail sob that stabbed into my guts. For an instant, I thought I'd look up and find Marina staring at me. Had she woken up, caught me in the act?

  I could see her face from where I crouched. Fuck, I could have touched her. Marina's mouth was a grimace, eyes scrunched fiercely. Along her arms, goosebumps prickled. The whimper of fear and sadness escaping her was painful.

  She said no words, none I could make out. She didn't need to, I understood the tremors of horror and knew she was having a nightmare. Whatever it was about, it had her whole body twitching.

  Standing, I bent close to her flushed cheeks. God, she was struggling. I sensed her tears about to start before the first one flowed. It left a wet streak down her caramel skin. Then they just kept coming.

  Looking around, I told myself to leave. To get out of there and forget about the girl I'd just met who had flipped my life around and was now sobbing in my spare bed.

  Why did I put my hand on her shoulder?

  “Marina,” I whispered. Gently I shook her, my fingertips wrecked by every tiny quiver that attacked her. “Marina, wake up.” She was sniffling, great ugly tears that were meant for privacy. Not for someone like me. Reaching down, I wiped some of them away.

  Thick lashes fluttered, brown eyes snapping to their widest setting. She gawked up at me, and the terror there made me wonder if she was seeing me or something else. Both of us jerked apart, my hands going to my sides. “What the hell are you doing?” she asked, rubbing at her face to hide the evidence.

  “You were having a nightmare,” I said carefully. “I heard you from my room and came to check on you.” Lying was easy when you'd done it your whole life.

  Pulling the blanket around herself, like me seeing her in a shirt and shorts was inappropriate—and maybe it was—Marina eyed the bedroom. She was breathing rapidly, realizing where she was. “Oh,” she said. It was a simple word. Looking up at me, her nose was the color of a cherry. “Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. I'm—it's just...”

  “Forget about it,” I said quickly. Blinking, she watched me curiously and gave a nervous smile. Her lips were swollen from crying. She acts as if this is normal, nightmares. Not planning to linger, I turned for the door. “Bad dreams happen to everyone. Do you want me to... to get you anything?”

  Her smile touched her eyes. “Could you leave the door cracked for me? The hallway—I know, this sounds stupid.”

  A weird flutter hit my belly. “Are you scared of the dark?”

  “No.” She looked at the window. “It's not that. Could you just do it? Please?”

  Deciding not to pry, I ducked my head and inched out the door. I left it partly open, big enough for a hand to fit through. “See you in the morning, Marina.”

  Behind me, her voice was soft. “Goodnight, Kite.”

  The floor was colder than usual. My body was heavy, limbs not holding warmth. All the blood had gone to my head, flooding and choking my brain. I had a suspicion about why Marina wanted the door open. It was something so ridiculous, so bizarre...

  And I was sure I was right.

  Marina had told the truth, she wasn't scared of the dark. She could have opened her blinds and flooded the room with the city if that was the issue. What she had wanted was an opening. Something that connected her to another human.

  In this case... to me.

  Sitting on my bed, I put my forehead in my hands. If she thinks that being closer to me makes her safer... that I'm a source of protection from whatever her nightmares are...

  She really didn't know what my plan for her was.

  - Chapter Eight -

  Jacob

  The sun was still down when the knock came.

  Moving from the front room window, I walked through the blueish shadows. I hadn't turned any lights on yet. With the back-lit city, I didn't need to.

  Through the peephole, I saw Kite's face. He looked just as grim when I opened the door. “Didn't think you'd be awake so soon,” I said.

  He tossed something at me; my car keys jingled, the edge digging into my clo
sed fist. “Thought you'd want those back.”

  “And you thought I needed them now?” I asked. “What if I'd been sleeping.”

  Arching an eyebrow, he eyed me from head to toe. “It doesn't look like you even tried. Did you not bother to change clothes?”

  Touching the front of my dark green shirt, I scowled. “Of course I changed.”

  “But you didn't sleep.”

  I allowed a cracked smile to spread. “No, I didn't sleep. Come inside.”

  He started to, then froze on the threshold. “Actually, I was going to suggest something. And if we do it, we don't have the luxury of chilling out here. Much as it pains me.”

  That was when I saw the bloodshot stains in his eyes. “You didn't sleep either.”

  “Not a wink,” he admitted.

  Lifting my chin, I squeezed my car keys tight. “Tell me where we need to go. I'll drive.”

  Kite shook his head, moving so I could enter the silent hallway. “No,” he whispered. “Where I want to go, your car has already been in the recent hours. Taking mine will be less suspicious.”

  And then I knew. “Her apartment. Is she sleeping right now?”

  “She was when I checked on her. I think we can risk a brief excursion without her wondering where I am, if she does wake up.”

  That sounded solid to me. We took the stairs, jogging down without speaking. It wasn't until we were safe in the confines of Kite's Mercedes that I resumed the conversation. “You went there last night with her. Did you see anything?”

  He sped through the relatively quiet streets of the city. We'd make good time, so few people were even awake. “No. I couldn't check much, she was right there. I didn't see her pack anything suspicious.”

  “Hopefully we find it in her place, then.” My sigh was loud. “Otherwise we have to accept she left it somewhere else. Maybe with a friend.”

  Kite pushed the gas harder. “I don't think so, I checked her phone. Jacob, she had no one in there.”

  I sat up straighter, glancing at him and his subtle frown. “That's strange. Good for us, though. Makes the chances of someone reporting her missing less likely.”