The Leverager

by C. L Masonite

  “Fine, yes, I am,” I groaned.

  “You can’t get close to her…you have a job to do,” Mikhail said seriously.

  “My job requires me to get close to her,” I replied.

  “You know what I mean, Hendrik,” Mikhail persisted as we approached our cars.

  I sighed, dropping my act. “Yeah, I do. Don’t worry about me I know how to keep myself in check.”

  “You’re not made out of stone even though you try to act like it,” Jarek commented.

  “Enough, both of you. She’s a means to an end, and we all know how it’s going to end. You have nothing to worry about. I’m focused and nothing is going to make me change my mind. I know what I have to do,” I stressed.

  And I was going to do it, even if I didn’t like it.

  LEAVING THE ELEVATOr, I entered Hendrik’s apartment, which from my view was the whole top floor of the building. It was an open plan so I could see everything…the kitchen that looked like a chef’s dream in all black marble, sleek and shiny with kitchen appliances that I didn’t even know the name of.

  To my left there was a library with books from the floor to the ceiling, some looking as old as time. There was a black, comfy chair and study table next to it and I could just imagine Hendrik sitting there in quiet solitude reading and basking in the rays of the sun when it was in the sky at the right angle.

  I walked farther in and saw a glass-encased room filled with gym equipment that was all foreign to me. Next to that was another glass-encased room, the master bedroom I had no doubt, which Hendrik slept in with a master bathroom attached.

  You should wait for him on his bed, my libido whispered. I laughed out loud at the thought. There was no way in hell I was going to do that.

  I shook my head marveling as I noticed that there were shutters on each wall of his bedroom, which meant that Hendrik had a choice of waking up to the sun or in complete and utter darkness.

  And that wasn’t even the best thing. The best thing was the three-hundred-and-sixty-degree panoramic view balcony that surrounded the whole of the apartment floor. It was all badass and so Hendrik.

  I knew Hendrik was well off, but not this well off.

  Feeling just slightly intimidated I decided to sit my ass down on the massive sofa to prevent myself from snooping through the rest of his apartment to try and get as much information as I could on the elusive Leverager. As good as it would be to get the upper hand on him, this was his place and he was entitled to his privacy.

  I turned on his massive television and flicked through the channels until I settled on the Originals watching Klaus kick some vampire’s ass. And this was where Hendrik found me an hour later.

  “How was your day, honey?” I teased.

  He sent me a heated look from his flaring, midnight green eyes that made me feel all warm and tingly. That look should be made illegal!

  “Careful, I might just keep you. I think I like being greeted like that when I come home,” he added. And this time all the warm and tingly feelings zinged straight to my core. I squirmed to try and dissipate the zings and immediately regretted it as he caught my discomfort. His eyes zoned in on my crossed legs.

  My cheeks grew hot and I looked away. The silence between us grew intense, and just as I was thinking about going out on the balcony for some fresh, sobering air, he spoke.

  “I’ve had a long day. Hit dead ends on all leads. I’m going to take a shower…come with me, I want some company,” he urged, compellingly.

  I gulped, almost choking. Him. Naked. Wet. I don’t think I could deal. It would be too intimate. Too much.

  “I don’t think that would be a very good idea,” I said.

  “Tagga ned. I wasn’t inviting you to share my shower and I’m not an exhibitionist. I’m not asking you to watch. I’m asking you to sit on my bed and talk to me while I shower,” he chuckled.

  “What does tagga ned mean?” I asked curiously, trying to stall while I thought it over.

  “Well, the literal translation means bring down your spikes.”

  “What?” I asked with confusion.

  “It means take it easy,” he answered.

  “Wow, did you just actually tell me something for free?” I laughed.

  “Yes, but only in the interest of getting what I want, but my generosity only extends so far,” he replied cryptically.

  “Fine. How about we make a deal?” I brokered, speaking his stealth language.

  “I’m listening,” he said as he sat opposite me, muscles bunching in the process. Focus, Em! I admonished. I could commit his muscles to memory later. Preferably naked, my libido added.

  “Tell me what Älskling means and I’ll do what you want,” I offered, folding my arms. This was serious business! I’d tried to look it up on the Internet but my spelling of the word was wildly incorrect because I couldn’t find a single translation of it.

  “Only if when I come out of the shower your sweet ass is still parked on my bed,” he countered, raising the stakes higher.

  “That’s not fair,” I chided.

  “I’m not a fair man, you should know that by now,” he goaded.

  I brought my right hand up in the thinking pose, trying to make him sweat my pending decision, but he looked anything but affected. In fact, he was alpha male confident and his lips were twitching like he found me amusing.

  Well, I did really want to know what it meant, and I did really want to try out the whole blindfold thing . . . Besides, would I really lose out if I accepted his proposal?

  “Fine, but only so long as you tell me what the word means first,” I renegotiated.

  “Done deal. The word Älskling means sweetheart,” he translated smoothly.

  “What? Are you messing with me? Why would you call me that?” I asked, feeling angry that he was playing with me. It couldn’t be true, although I wanted it to be true.

  Hendrik bent closer, all intense, his eyes dark like he was remembering a forgotten memory.

  “The night I met you, you were unguarded, almost unconscious. I was a complete stranger to you yet you didn’t flinch away from me. You gave me the sweetest smile I’d ever seen, like you trusted me,” he said with wonderment.

  I bit down hard on my lip trying to brace myself for whatever else he was going to share.

  “And I knew you did when you fell asleep right in my arms. Yes, it may have been drug induced and you may have thought I was a hallucination but that didn’t matter to me. There’s only one other person who has ever looked at me that way. I never thought someone would ever look at me that way again, but you did. You. Did. I didn’t need to take you to a hotel and make sure you were okay, I should have just called an ambulance, but I didn’t,” he continued.

  Goosebumps drifted up and down my arms. I wanted to look away but his words kept me in his thrall.

  “I call you sweetheart because of those rare, beautiful moments you do smile at me. I see who you are beneath all the pain and the fear,” he admitted. I stopped breathing wanting to tell him to stop talking, because I could feel myself breaking apart inside. The emotion was overwhelming. He was getting to me and I couldn’t let that happen. This was just business. He couldn’t do this to me, I wouldn’t let him! And yet as my mouth opened I said nothing, instead I dug my nails into the couch.

  Hendrik sat back somehow sensing I couldn’t take anymore, letting me breathe again. “So, Emerson, no, I’m not messing with you. But whether you believe me or not, I don’t care. I’m heading for a shower now and you’re going to keep your end of the deal,” he growled, standing up, towering over me.

  My eyes followed his every step, up until he disappeared into his bedroom. I know I was supposed to follow, but I couldn’t. I was frozen. Stuck. Glued to the couch.

  “Emerson,” I heard him call threateningly from his bedroom, “Don’t make me come and get you or you’ll be sharing my shower with me and I’ll be saying screw our deal.”

  All of a sudden my limbs became unstuck. “I’m c
oming,” I yelled, walking faster just in case he hadn’t.

  I made it just in time to see him unbutton his shirt—slowly and tantalizingly. He gestured to his bed wordlessly and I parked my ass on it. My mouth watered as each revealing inch of skin unveiled the artwork on his right shoulder. The tattoo was of a fierce eagle perched on beautifully detailed roses.

  “What made you decide to get that tattoo?” I asked carefully.

  “Haven’t I revealed enough of myself to you for one night?” he questioned, tossing his shirt on the floor.

  “I’m greedy, what can I say?” I said as I put two of his pillows at my back and leaned back. There was no reason why I shouldn’t be comfortable.

  “Fine,” he groaned. “I told you about my dad and how he passed away. The tattoo is in memory of him. When I was young he always used to say to me that the eagle was a man’s connection to the Divine because it flies higher than any other bird. He told me that I always should try to rise above my fears and weaknesses to be the eagle, to help those who can’t help themselves.”

  “So that’s why you became the Leverager?” I asked, sitting up higher, trying to read his face but it was a closed book.

  “Yes and no,” he replied ambiguously. His hands went to unbutton his pants and I closed my eyes, unsure if it was because if I saw any more flesh I was going to spontaneously combust or because I might just jump off the bed and help him with the rest of his clothes.

  “So now you choose to be shy, should have figured that taking my clothes off would be one of the things that would make you quit interrogating me,” he commented as I heard a soft thud, quickly followed by another one.

  “I might have deserved that,” I admitted. “Thanks for telling me about your tattoo,” I whispered.

  “And what about the other thing?” he teased, no doubt talking about his endearment for me.

  This time I decided to remain silent.

  “It kills me when you go silent like that. Your silence is your weapon just as much as words are mine. It’s safe to open your eyes now,” he instructed. But I waited until I heard the shower door close before I did so.

  “I don’t mean to,” I called over the falling water.

  “I know. It’s a protective mechanism. How about we talk about something a little bit lighter, tell me about your day. How was your first meeting with your patient?” he replied.

  “Well, my own supervisor tried to get me thrown off my patient’s case, because he thought I wouldn’t be able to deal with my his violent outbursts,” I said, punching my hand through the air in frustration even though Hendrik couldn’t see me.

  “What? Want me to deal with him for you? It would have to be for a price though,” he offered.

  “No, I dealt with him just fine myself,” I smiled.

  “You’re clearly not so sweet after all. Or maybe I’m just corrupting you. So, tell me about your patient.”

  “I’m about as sweet as a viper,” I threw back. “And while I can’t disclose any confidential details about my client, I can say that he isn’t just prone to violent outbursts for no reason. There’s something underneath all the anger, I just have to find a way to unlock it.”

  “You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah, I guess I do,” I replied a lot less vocally.

  “Have you found the key to unlocking your anger yet?” he pushed.

  Going out on a limb I decided to be truthful. “I think you just might be the key. As for answers, I don’t think I’ll ever find any. If anything, I think that’s the hardest thing to deal with.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, and I could have sworn his voice was thicker.

  I sighed, remembering what Doctor Fleur had said about being honest.

  “I was happy at first when I realized that I couldn’t remember what had happened to me. I thought it was a godsend. But then it hit me; not knowing exactly what had happened to me was much worse because I couldn’t deal with what had happened. Sure, I have the physical scars to prove it,” I said tracing my scars, “but it was like it had happened to someone else and I was just on the outside looking in.”

  “And that’s why you haven’t been able to get the closure you need,” he said out loud as if he reading my thoughts.

  “Exactly.”

  I closed my eyes again as I heard the shower close and the door open.

  “So why didn’t you ask me to help you track down your attackers?” Hendrik asked, now much, much closer in proximity. Even from where he stood I could feel his intensity and power locking on me. Waiting for a response.

  I’d asked myself that very question hundreds of times and each time I’d come up with the same answer.

  “Because the detectives on my case have absolutely no leads. My attackers left no evidence, not even on me. I know it sounds like I’m giving up on myself by not making it my life’s mission to find whoever hurt me, but I refuse to let them have any more power over me. Each moment I spend thinking about them is a moment wasted on my ability to move on,” I answered even though I hadn’t yet. “I’m trying to move on but for each step forward it feels like I take a thousand back.”

  “Other people might doubt your decision but I think it’s the right one,” he replied.

  “I don’t believe you. You’re all about fighting your demons, you’re always in control…how would you know what it feels like?” I derided.

  “Trust me, Emerson, I know what it’s like to be consumed by something so dark; the difference is unlike you because I’ve let it rule me. I did unforgivable things. I lost control. While I can’t take back the things I’ve done, I refuse to lose control like that ever again,” he swore. I could hear the torment in his voice, making me question how I’d gotten it so wrong.

  I closed my eyes tighter, wishing I could stop hearing him assassinate his character.

  “God, Emerson, there have been so many times I’ve wanted to give up and give in to those voices that tell me nothing I do will ever be good enough to atone for my sins. I’ve wanted to fade away into oblivion so I wouldn’t have to feel the biting pain of my regret. But all of it, the heartache and emptiness, the attempts to be better are worth it because for that one rare second that everything feels right, you forget all the things that are wrong. I’ve found those moments mostly with my brothers, and you’ll find them, too. Hold onto them and remember that if you can feel that powerful and confident at any one point in time then who’s to say you can’t feel that way again? This is your goddamn life, Emerson, and it’s time for you to take it back,” he said forcefully.

  “I don’t know how. Why do you think I asked for your help?” I cried with frustration.

  “I can’t do it for you, but I promised to help you and I will. But you need to take risks; you have to get your fears out of your mind. Are you ready to feel powerful again? Do you want to create one of those moments with me right here and now?” he asked.

  I swallowed. Unsure exactly what he was asking of me.

  “I’ve initiated every physical contact between us. This time you’re going to be the initiator. You need to take control and learn that yes, sex is about power. But it’s more than that, it’s about giving the other person your trust and allowing them to have power over you. The loss of power doesn’t make you weak or unsafe. Instead, it’s liberating. You have no responsibility other than to take your pleasure while the other person gives it and takes his in return from yours,” he lectured.

  “It sounds like you’ve already made my decision for me,” I said with aggravation. “Is it safe to open my eyes now?” I queried impatiently. I didn’t know what I was more frustrated about, that I wanted to please him or that I knew he was right. I needed to do this before I changed my own mind and let my fear take root.

  “No. Keep them closed. No peeking,” he ordered, obviously hearing my wordless willingness to take on his new challenge. I heard him moving around, opening a drawer.

  “I hate being kept in suspense,�
� I complained good-naturedly, even though I was really nervous as hell.

  “Trust me, I’ll teach you to love it. Now I don’t have a blindfold, but I thought I’d improvise. I’ve got a crimson red tie that should be more than worthy enough to do the job. Don’t flinch, I’m going to put it around your eyes,” he warned as he did exactly that with minimal contact.

  “Why does this feel like I’m the one who’s the powerless one here?” I asked suspiciously.

  “What better way is there than facing your fear in complete darkness?” he asked rhetorically. “Just like you were in control with your vibrator, you’ll be in control here. You can take the blindfold off anytime you want. The only reason why I’m not wearing one is to prevent us from getting a concussion,” he quipped.

  I threw back my head and laughed, loving that somehow he’d made the awkward situation easy and unthreatening.

  “Your laugh is just as sweet as your smile,” he murmured, “it’s a shame it only comes out every once in awhile. You need to do it more often,” he whispered in my ear stealing my breath away.

  “Stop it,” I said throatily.

  “No. I’m drawing you out no matter how much you resist,” he said right before he lifted me so I was straddling him, me on top of him before I even knew what was happening.

  I put my hands out blindly, somehow making contact with his shoulders. I held on tightly, then realizing what I was doing I let go.

  “Have at me, baby,” he teased. It was so silent that I heard him move back against his headboard as if waiting for the show to begin.

  “T–that wasn’t part of our deal,” I said throatily, trying to take my mind off how good he felt underneath me. The most vulnerable part of me was pressed up against the virile heat of him. And his steel-like thighs were bunched underneath my much softer ones, the contrast making me feel all his unleashed power that he was holding in check.

  And that was when it hit me. I wasn’t the only one taking a risk tonight, he was, too. He feared losing control and yet he was giving me all the power, giving me freedom to touch him, play with him, tease him. He was mine for the taking.