Assassin by Day

by Tessa Robertson

  Before he continues to dig his shallow grave, I slip from the apartment and down the stairs. His attitude pisses me off. He’s a complete hornball. Why did I expect anything else? Damn idiot.

  Clomping my feet noisily, I glare at the closed apartment door. That wasn’t the reunion I anticipated. I wanted him to sweep my off my feet and kiss me until I was numb. Fuck, I’ve read way too many books. I want romance. Dammit, no, I loathe mushy crap. And then again, I crave it more than I realize.

  The clock chimes, and I curse when I see the time. I need to open, but shove the responsibility aside. I can’t unlock the doors with Eddie upstairs. He doesn’t know my cover here, and I can’t have him ruining it even if I am leaving.

  Pulling on my boots, I grab my coat. If I’m to wait for Eddie’s ride, I’ll do the majority of it away from him. Right now, I can’t handle his cockiness both physical and verbal.

  I yank the door behind me. Eddie isn’t the same guy I recollect. He isn’t telling me the truth, so neither will I. Nothing new.

  Despite my rising anger, I also sense my heart beating faster than normal. All it takes is one kiss from Eddie, and I will be under his enchantment again. I won’t let it happen. Not until I discover what’s going on. Given his odd behavior, I don’t think it’ll be difficult to steer clear of his lips.

  The fresh snow crunches beneath my feet as I hurry across the street. Verde’s diner is the place that feels like home. Or what I think home should be. My home was never this inviting.

  I step inside and a cool draft follows. Mrs. Jones looks over her glasses, but the rest of the customers focus on their breakfast. The Whitehurst twins wave at me, their faces streaked with cherry streusel.

  “Hello, Rory. I haven’t seen you in a while,” the shop owner, Susan, calls from the bakery counter. “I hope my chili didn’t scare you off.” She winks, waiving me to the front of the line.

  I dodge two darting children and recognize them as frequent fliers who love to hibernate among the fantasy section.

  “No, your chili is the best I’ve ever had,” I admit. “I’ve merely been busy.”

  Whether she believes me or not, it doesn’t matter. “I need three of your Danishes and three cinnamon rolls, please.”

  She grabs a bright pink pastry box and gives me an odd look. “Planning on eating these by yourself?”

  “No.” When I meet her eyes I perceive my answer won’t shut her up. “I’m taking a trip with a friend.”

  “Would the friend of yours be of the male gender?” she noses. I nod my head and she shrieks with glee. “How romantic.”

  She loads up the cinnamon rolls first, then pauses at the cherry Danishes. “Your mystery man wouldn’t be Mr. Kain, now would it?”

  I should’ve known better than to open my mouth. Now, I either lie or appease her with the truth. The latter would get back to Dylan within the hour so I opt for a third route. “Why would you ask?”

  Susan uses the tongs to grab the first mouth-watering concoction. “Well, one of the ladies in town—”

  Mrs. Jones, I input silently.

  “Saw Mr. Kain frequent your book haven on more than one occasion.”

  “Perhaps, he’s reading up on a new subject,” I counter, counting the pastries. She has three more to go. Come on, hurry the fuck up already! I don’t like the direction we’re heading.

  “The only new subject he’s reading up on is you,” she chuckles. “Why, the man is giddy every day. I’ve never seen him like this in the four months he’s been in Verde.”

  The last part of her sentence makes my mental vehicle screech to a halt. “Wait, Dylan’s only been here for four months?”

  Susan bobs her head up and down. “Yeah. A little over maybe. He arrived not long before he found you stranded on the road. That dear soul must’ve sensed your plight. He’s the town’s most eligible bachelor, you know.”

  She goes back to the tartlets, and I want to puke. The timing of all this is too coincidental. Dylan’s arrival, my car breaking down and him rescuing me. There’s too much chance for my liking. Eddie’s odd behavior now plays over in my mind. What if Dylan works for Eddie? I thought it was Nickolas, but I could be wrong.

  I swallow hard. I don’t like where this might lead. Fate is never kind to me, so I need to prepare for the worst. If Nickolas or Eddie have a hold over Dylan, I’m shit out of time.

  “Here you go, sweetie. Enjoy them with your date.” Susan grins, and I refrain from tearing the box. I hand her a ten-dollar bill then make a beeline for the door. I mumble my thanks when someone opens the door, then pause at his reply.

  “I’d pay good money to watch you eat all of those.” Dylan’s voice washes over me. At the sound of him, my nerves jumble.

  “I bet you would,” I answer, walking in the opposite direction. My attempt to make it the last bit of conversation backfires when he follows.

  “Where are you off to so fast? The pastries will still be good if you slow down.” He scoops the box from my hands. “Do you have plans for the day? I was thinking about taking a snowmobile up one of the mountain trails.” A frisky smirk covers his face. “I could use some company.”

  I glance up at him. His nonchalance at carrying a bright pink box of pastries along the main street makes me wary. I don’t trust him. Not when Susan spilled the beans about his convenient arrival.

  “Sounds like fun, but I need to finish ordering new books.” Given, it’s not the smoothest way to shoo him from my side, but I need to try. I can’t very well have him meet Eddie. Talk about weird. Hottie number one meet hottie number two who I’ve been fucking like a rabbit. Uh, no.

  Dylan shakes his head and helps me off the slippery curb. “In that case, I’ll help you.”

  I drop his hand once I’m safely clear of the ice. Depending on him more than necessary is bad news.

  “I don’t have much going on today. Plus, I saw several new releases I think the kids in town would like.”

  The cold air pinches my face, scorning me for not grabbing a scarf. Stopping abruptly, I swivel to face him. He’s incredibly attractive today. He’s not sporting a hat, so his midnight colored hair slowly accumulates snowflakes. The black coat fits snug across his broad chest and a red scarf around his neck makes his gunmetal eyes demand attention. I wouldn’t mind ogling at him for the better half of my life. Except, he’s keeping secrets. Well, so am I.

  I confiscate the box from him. I can’t decide whether he was planted by Nickolas, Eddie, or the U.S. government. It must be one of them. Men aren’t attracted to me unless they have an ulterior motive. Which do I prefer? Surely, he’s not Russian. I would’ve picked that up. He would sport a slight accent. I think back on our conversations. I don’t have an accent. Wouldn’t he?

  He could easily be military. He has the build for it. But no battle scars. Even Eddie bears scars from stupid mistakes when he was overseas. A government is next. Which one is the problem since it’s filled with torture and ultimate death. If any government sent Dylan, the agency may disappear from my ringside fight.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Susan advised me the whole town knows about us.” I expertly slide over a chunk of slush, keeping my balance. “Mrs. Jones has been spreading it like it’s her job.”

  Dylan chuckles as he catches my pace. Damn him for having a stimulating chuckle and long legs.

  “Yeah, I’m not amazed. She is the town gossip.” He links his arm around my waist. “It’ll blow over. I wouldn’t worry about her. She’s a lonesome old bat who wants something to talk about. We’re the latest. She’ll get bored eventually.”

  I lower my eyes to his hands, such large and tender hands made for cradling. A passerby stares at our proximity. At their brow lift, I recall we shouldn’t be publicly fondling or whatever romantics call this.

  “If you didn’t make a scene, I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone gossiping. They’ll know for a fact we’re sleeping together,” I remind, unable to dislodge from his grip.

  He
ignores my plea and tilts up my chin. Astray flake drifts to my lips as his eyes follow. Before it can melt, he engulfs my mouth, the snowflake long gone under his searing touch. I expect him to pull back. He made his point. It’s as clear as day to anyone watching. He may as well toss me over his shoulder and disappear into the mountains to confirm it.

  When he deepens the kiss, I frantically want to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer. The stupid box of pastries keeps me from doing so. I prefer my breakfast fluffy not smashed. The way he stirs my emotions makes me briefly forget the facts he omitted over the last months. All I want to do is kiss him until we’re snowmen.

  Using every force of willpower, I back away from him, though my body screams its disapproval. “So much for not making a scene.”

  His lips hover above, waiting for me to shut up so he can kiss me all over. I won’t give him the opportunity. Confrontation is a necessary poison now that I heard the chatter about him. “You arrived in Verde not long before I did. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Nothing registers across his face. Not even a twitch of an eyelash. He stands like a statue as if contemplating his next words. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

  He pushes my hair behind my shoulder. “I’m just glad I was there to help when your car broke down.” Lightly, he kisses the crease of my lips.

  I still have questions. I mean, who wouldn’t? I can’t blindly put my faith in someone. His tongue replaces his lips. Can I? All doubt flees when Dylan resumes his caress. I might as well drop my pants in the middle of town to reiterate our connection. My body sways me more than my mind.

  “So, this is how you’ve been keeping busy?” a clipped voice intercepts.

  I pry my lips away, almost dropping the box. Dylan, on the other hand, barely moves from his position. His hands rest on my hips as I look over to meet Eddie’s glare. I can’t think of a witty comeback. What am I supposed to say? That I haven’t been enjoying orgasms at Dylan’s skillful hands? Ha, no. I can’t force myself to lie about the skills the mountain man beside me possesses.

  “This is recent,” I quip. It’s moderately true.

  Eddie’s eyes turn a shade dimmer. He’s pissed, yet has no right to be. We aren’t in a relationship. Hell, his survival is why I left. If I ever tell him the reason behind my actions, he’d understand. Sure, he tried to contact me, but I couldn’t respond. Dammit, why didn’t he stop? Why didn’t I leave it alone? Already, I regret reaching out to him. Fucking douche.

  I peer at Dylan and notice his jaw is clenched while his eyes are fastened to Eddie. Sizing him up, I’ll bet. They’re of similar build, though Eddie is taller. Judging from the stubborn expressions on their faces, neither will spill their secret agendas. I’ve had enough of this. They can scrutinize each other until they freeze.

  Forcefully, I break out of Dylan’s hold and stomp toward the library.

  “Rory, wait!” Dylan calls, and I halt in my tracks.

  “Rory, huh?” Eddie’s voice is laced in cold humor. “I thought I was the only one to call you that name.”

  I swivel on my heels and watch the scene unfold before me. Dylan’s face is puzzled, but not flabbergasted. It seems he knew my full name prior to this interlude.

  Eddie shakes his head. “Anjelique Rory, so you have it half right.”

  I keep my lips tight. Oh, yeah, that. Anjelique isn’t my name. It’s really complicated and deals with a bitchy step-mom, but he doesn’t need to know my spoiler quite yet. Gotta keep something for the honeymoon. God, I’m fucked up.

  Swiveling toward me, the ex-airman resumes, “It was smart to change your name.” His eyes narrow. “Or was it Nick’s idea?”

  My gaze swings to Dylan. His fists are clenched and his eyes are stuck on me now. I can’t tell if he’s pissed at me for not telling him or pissed at Eddie for barging in on our kiss. Either way, I should’ve told him.

  I shake my head. Fuck no. He’s a stranger. One with a shaky story. I owe him nothing. My eyes slide between the two men. I owe neither a sliver of truth.

  “Is it true?” Dylan questions, shifting his weight to his left leg. I nod once and he reciprocates. “Okay,” he accepts then scratches his beard.

  “Okay is all you’re going to say?” I ask, confused at his passiveness. I predict more from him. He’s a passionate lover, so a little chin scratch is disappointing. Maybe storming off or quipping attitude, but all he gave me was a solitary word.

  He crosses his arms over his chest. “Yep, that’s it.”

  I glance to Eddie and review his baffled countenance. I’m positive it mirrors my own. “Why?”

  Dylan closes the distance and drops his voice. “Because I’ve known the whole time.”

  I scowl when he tenderly grabs my coat lapel with his hands. He leans his cheek against mine. His lips minutely touch my ear. “I know all about you, Mishka,” he whispers in Russian.

  Rearing back, panic spreads throughout my body like ivy. “What?” I reply in the same language.

  His eyes remain unreceptive. “Son of a bitch! It was Nickolas, wasn’t it?” My throat clenches, but when I meet his eyes, I find my answer. “Who are you? Is Dylan even your name?” I stop myself there. “Of course, it’s not. Just like Rory isn’t mine.”

  He presses a peck to my cheek. “You know I can’t tell you anything.”

  Looking at Eddie, I see him frazzled, but clueless. He doesn’t realize what recently transpired. How easily my life is proven to be a lie with one sentence.

  “Why?” I keep my tone hushed. I don’t want Eddie to hear any of this since he’s already glaring at us like a jealous boyfriend.

  “You’re a job. An assignment,” Dylan replies without thought. “I was tasked to keep you safe and alive.” He traces my lips with his index finger. “I didn’t expect to like you.”

  “Gee, thanks. That makes me feel so much better about all this bullshit,” I seethe, ripping away from him. I need air. More like, I need a freaking chainsaw.

  Thankfully, I figured out Dylan’s lie, but Eddie holds one captive. I point to Dylan. “I’m gonna go ahead and forget you exist.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitches and he steps backwards. His posture is pin straight and his head bows curtly. Gone is the man I screwed by the light of the moon. The Russian version of him is now in his place. How was I so blind to not see it? My gut cautioned me, but I didn’t listen.

  “My job isn’t complete.”

  Stepping on his toe, I shake my finger in his face. “The hell if it’s not. I’m leaving with Eddie.” I didn’t think there was enough left of my heart to rip apart. Clearly, there is since Dylan just did it. Or whatever his name is.

  A helicopter flutters over the mountains, heading directly toward Verde. I shoot malevolence to both Eddie and Dylan, but only one of them looks relieved to see the bird. Eddie moves toward the town square, a clearing big enough for a landing, while Dylan turns in the opposite direction. He didn’t call them. Not sure what to do or who to trust, I stagger to the library.

  The whir of the chopper is close now. I peek out the window and see the recognizable FBI jackets on the men inside. “Son of a bitch!” I scream, running up the stairs. So, that’s what Eddie’s been up to! His new job is with the FBI. I should’ve known.

  I fumble with the handle then barge in. I have less than a minute before this place is flooded with agents eager to shoot me. I’m a wanted murderer. The newspapers so plainly state it as the truth, and I can’t exactly refute them.

  As quick as possible, I grab each and any weapon I can find then dash down the stairs. Eddie doesn’t know about the south exit, so I move in that direction. “So much for Eddie!” I fume.

  “I didn’t think he was FBI. CIA maybe, but not FBI,” a voice from the darkness calls. The hint of an accent in his tone makes him sound more alluring than usual.

  I cock my gun and point it to the shapeless form. Dylan emerges from the shadows with his hands up. “Nickolas made it very clear you were to be kept unharme
d. If a Volkov wants you safe, then you will be no matter what it takes.”

  “I take it my car breaking down was no accident.” Staying pissed is the sole way I’m surviving this hell.

  Dylan cautiously lowers his hands. “Not at all.” He chuckles. “I didn’t think the people of Verde would spill my story, though. They’re usually tight-lipped since half are illegal immigrants.”

  My hand starts to shake, but I keep the gun aimed at him. His story sounds along the lines of what Nickolas promised. He’d keep me secure until I could resume my mother’s position. I never thought he’d be stupid enough to send someone attractive. That was just irresponsible.

  “Why should I believe this story?” I lower my voice. “You tricked me into trusting you.” I shove the gun to his nose. “I always see through the bullshit men feed me. Why didn’t I see yours?”

  He doesn’t respond, but instead his smile has a hint of sadness. Fuck me, I like him. Like a lot. This awareness disturbs me more and more.

  “Why did you have sex with me? Did Nickolas put you up to that too?” Are my next questions. I can’t imagine him wanting me involved with another man when he so clearly desires me as his wife, but my life is a clusterfuck so it’s possible. Nickolas isn’t like Alexei. He wouldn’t store me away for no reason, and did offer one last man to screw as an engagement gift. Aww.

  With deliberate movements, Dylan lowers my hand and takes control of the gun. “No. He didn’t tell me to do that.” He smirks. “Quite the opposite, actually. I wasn’t supposed to get more than a body width near you. Something about you being his or some bullshit. My job was to make sure you were left alone.” He shoves the handgun in his belt. Yeah, I want to dive my hands in and retrieve it for more than one purpose.

  “I can’t help who I’m attracted to.” His eyes graze my body. “You’re irresistible. I broke more than Nickolas’s code when I kissed you.” He reaches for my hair, but withdraws his act. “You’re a work of art. One I was never to get an intimate view of.”

  I’m not sure whether his flattery should be taken seriously or not. The man perjured several things, so he may be spinning more now. Despite those realities, I’m digging his accent. Dammit, I really do have a type!