Assassin by Day

by Tessa Robertson

  I turn to Dylan. “Nickolas is your contact?” He squints to his boss then nods.

  Shaking my head, I mull over what to do next. Nothing comes to me. “Unless you’re planning on telling me what’s going on, don’t bet I’ll go anywhere with you.”

  Nickolas lets out a nervous chuckle. His eyes drift over me, soaking in my hastily thrown on clothes. I’m sure I look like a doll right now. He pushes his way to me, his expression apologetic.

  “I’m sorry it took so long for me to arrive, Mishka. I’ve been worried sick about you every day since leaving. I hope you’ve been well.”

  I roll my eyes when he glares at Dylan. “You weren’t to be touched in any way, and I apologize for his behavior. I’ll make sure he’s properly taken care of.”

  I frown at his meaning. Sure, he worried about me. It was clear when he told me to sleep with someone else. What man says that to the woman he claims to love? It’s quite baffling. Too bad for him I chose Dylan. He very easily could’ve kept me hidden away in Virginia and none of this would’ve happened. I can’t decide which route I like better.

  “No. It’s not his fault.” I meet Nickolas’s questioning blue eyes. “I didn’t know who he was before yesterday.”

  An understanding gaze passes between us and frightens me to death. Nickolas accepts my slut slide and doesn’t harass me for it. My heart races at the depth of this man’s action. How can one shove my sleeping with Dylan aside? God, I can’t fathom that kind of forgiveness.

  Nickolas mulls over our exchange for a moment then looks to me. “I suppose it’s no grievance then.”

  He juts his chin at Dylan. “But it won’t happen again,” he all but commands. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  Dylan shrugs on his shirt and straightens his shoulders. He stands taller than Nickolas, and I suddenly feel very out of place and extraordinarily claustrophobic. With Dylan’s dark, brooding structure and Nickolas’s light hair and eyes, they’re almost too good-looking for my palate.

  Dylan’s jaw tightens, but he nods nonetheless. “I won’t do anything she doesn’t want,” he replies, which starts the yelling again.

  Fucking men! I’ve had enough for one day. Dylan needs to accept my fate as well as his. Sneaking free, I make it to the door. The two men quarrel like dogs over a bone and don’t notice my exit. I chuckle. Well, I’m not a skinny-Minnie anymore, but sure. It feels nice, yet childish two men fighting over me. If I was one of those romantic girls, I’d swoon. But I’m not.

  I clutch the doorknob and swing the door open. I need a drink. They’ll be fine. I toss a glance to Nickolas who has his finger in Dylan’s face, which looks absolutely lethal. If they don’t kill each other first.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Twenty minutes and three beers later, I watch the scenery zoom by from my seat in the refreshment car or whatever the hell they call it. I’m thankful the bartender didn’t ask for any identification. All of mine would set off alarm bells. One other man is in the car with me and he keeps to his drink. A vodka soda. Not a bad choice.

  Distracting my mind away from the current situation, I spin my wheels on the looming arranged marriage to Nickolas. That takes a whole two minutes but I realize it’s nearly time to call the agency since I’m not about to dodge the verbal bullets flying in the tiny train room.

  Pondering the last twenty-four hours, I can’t get over the subtle yet damning betrayal of Eddie and Dylan. The whole Nickolas forcing me to marry him so he doesn’t kill Eddie isn’t helping. I’m pissed at Eddie for the foreseeable future. I never expected this from him. He’s supposed to be my knight in muddy boots. The one who cleans up my mess instead of shoving it in my face. He literally called the Calvary on me. So much for loving me.

  Eddie’s treachery hurts the most, but Dylan’s isn’t far behind. His secret reiterates that I suck at choosing men. I may as well hang up my feminine card and give in to the darkness of masculinity. Dylan isn’t even his real name. Moreover, I haven’t heard the real one either.

  I detest lowering my guard even though it resulted in shaking the floorboards with him. I know better, which is why I order a shot of tequila. I hate the stuff, so knocking it back is my punishment for allowing my emotions to consume my better sense.

  My lips burn at the brown liquor, but it’s my own damn fault. Somehow, Dylan peels back parts of my façade. When I’m with him, I’m not Mishka or Rory. I’m someone entirely different. She’s the woman I want to meet every morning; the woman I want to become. If only she had a name.

  If I’m ever getting out alive, I need to devise a new strategy. My first backup failed miserably. Thanks again, Eddie. I take another shot and choke it down. The drink blurs my vision. My options are limited. I shake my head. No, they’re nonexistent.

  The agency made it clear what they expect and I agreed wholeheartedly. I won’t let them down. I won’t stop until I take the skhodka to the depths of Hell. If it means I go with them, so be it.

  I nod to the bartender then suck on the lime and toss it to the counter when I’m done. “Whoa, talk about sour.”

  The lone man peeks in my direction then away. I squint to see him better, but keep seeing double. When I rub my eyes, there are two people sitting together. Nickolas is one of them. Of course, he is. They have their backs to the wall. The man sitting beside my loose fiancé is wearing jeans and a Nike shirt. I check the glass in front of him. It’s full. I’ve seen him before, and can only think of one reason.

  I pull out the phone from my pocket and press the one speed dial programmed. I wait as it dials, keeping my eyes glued to Nickolas and his thug. The associate thrusts his hand into his pocket and produces a ringing phone.

  Nickolas meets my eyes and waves the phone at me. “I always love a good drunk dial,” he jokes, tossing the phone back to his buddy, who I finally recognize as Brock. That motherfucker is always around.

  They stand and close the distance, surrounding me like a cloud. “Do you want an alibi or a drunken hook up?” Nickolas glides his hand down my arm.

  Knots fill my stomach as I realize the lack of response my body makes towards him. Usually, I feel a twinge for him. Today, there’s nothing. It must be because of Dylan. His intoxicating affection shields any sentiment felt for someone else.

  “Neither,” I say, shrugging his hand off me.

  Nickolas chuckles. “For now, Mishka.” He leans close and I smell the vodka on his breath. “Once you’re mine, you’ll be lucky if I let you out of my bed.”

  If Dylan said such words, I’d jump at the chance to be captive in his room for eternity. When it comes to Nickolas, I’m not as content. Sure, I’m attracted to him in a bad girl and bad boy connection, but that’s where it ends. Any future together is tainted by our previous acts. He loves me. That much is crystal clear. If I dedicated my time to Nickolas, I’d undoubtedly reciprocate.

  “If it keeps you from endangering Eddie, I’ll gladly be your sex imp.”

  “You have a soft spot for keeping others safe. It’s your single flaw. One I’ll use repeatedly to get what I want.” He hugs me to him.

  “I want a normal life, Nick, and to bring down my mother’s murderers and the skhodka. It’s not so much to ask.”

  “With your family tree and colorful skills, there’s no way you’ll have a normal life.” He shrugs. “You can’t forget our alliance with the agency. It’s our duty. One we’ll complete together.” He kisses my neck and I hate that I like his touch. “A normal life would be boring. You’re anything but that.”

  I sigh at the damning truth. Boring isn’t who I am or what I want, but I continue to wonder what it’d be like. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  He pours a shot of vodka and places it in front of me. “Drink.”

  I toss back the clear drink and scrunch my nose at the cheaply distilled liquid. This is no Russian batch.

  “What’s the plan?” I look around, searching for the missing man but he’s nowhere to be found. “You have one that doesn’t involve Dylan or h
e’d be here too.”

  Nickolas strokes my upper thigh. His breath on my neck feels like embers. One second, all I want to do is strangle him and the next I want to kiss him back to a simpler time when it was the two of us hiding from Alexei in my bedroom.

  He kisses my neck, his lips hurling me through time and space until it’s just us in the train car. With that time lapse, I forget all I’ve learned in Verde and the love I shared with Dylan. I can’t dwell on the past. My future is all I can cling to from this point forward.

  Taking another shot, I acknowledge I’ve had too much. If I attempt to do anything but sit here, Brock will bash my head like a grape. If the scene from earlier is any indication, Nickolas and Dylan won’t be amicable with sharing me. I swig another and shake my head to clear my thoughts, though it doesn’t help.

  Nickolas hands me a watch. “It’s set for thirty minutes. That’s when you’ll discover my plan.” He lightly presses his mouth to mine. “You’ll know what to do. Be sure and hang on to something, though.”

  When Nickolas stands and checks over his shoulder, he scowls. “Your free-pass is coming this way. Probably to make sure you haven’t jumped off the train.”

  “If all the men in my life keep fucking me over, I will.”

  “My love, you know this is all for us. Once we’re done with the skhodka, it’ll be you and me. I’ll buy you a pretty cottage wherever you like and we’ll start fresh. I promise.” He nods to Brock then adds, “See you soon.”

  Nickolas and the henchman vanish as effortlessly as they appeared, leaving me to stew on the unknown future. His promise haunts me as I sit on the barstool. I wouldn’t mind a cozy house by the sea even if Nickolas cohabitates it. I shouldn’t put him off, but with who I’ve spent the last few weeks with, my brain does it automatically. Nickolas is a good guy, if good guys threaten to kill people you love. That’s a normal relationship for me. Pathetic.

  Since I’ll be the top bitch in the organization my mother left me, I must maintain my distance from Eddie. I’m not heartbroken since our relationship was doomed from the start. We both had a hand in the detonation.

  I tap on my lip, trying to decipher when it all crumbled. We’re the villains. I’m the one on the opposite side of the law with Eddie on my trail. I glance longingly at the empty shot glass. It wouldn’t be so terrible to have a handsome guy like Mr. Harper stalking my every move, but it’s not possible.

  “He’ll turn me in without a second thought,” I predict, letting out a frustrated groan. As lovely as a rendezvous with Eddie would be to my nympho brain, it won’t happen. It’d mean destruction for the lives around me. Lives I care about, sort of.

  Stupid me for allowing Dylan to sneak into my pants. I should’ve waited until Nickolas came for me. He’d have kept my tendencies under control. He always did in the past plus kept me satisfied for longer.

  Movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention. Dylan’s coming to check on me. Taking a final gulp, I twirl on the chair. From across the room, I meet his gaze. Those gray eyes are knives, cutting into me and demanding an explanation. I wish I could give him one that wouldn’t make me sound like a crazy woman.

  Instead, I stand and stagger toward the door. He’s hot on my tail, making sure I don’t run into anyone. Not that anyone’s here. It’s too early to drink for non-murderous folks.

  My goal is to not only clear my name, but also get revenge for my mother. I chuckle, which makes him toss me a quizzical look. But which name will I liberate? Rory or Mishka? I’m better off living my hoodlum life. It’s what I’ll do until death. The agency all but implied I’m stuck on the carousal until the entire skhodka is destroyed, which could take the rest of my life.

  I continue my bout of giggles, knowing he thinks I’m wasted. The one name I never wanted tainted was Mishka. It’s ironic since it’s the name I associate with the most.

  It’s all too perfectly insane. Alena would be proud. Her daughter will run the Russian facet in her honor. After killing off the men who murdered her, of course. She’d insist on it. I smirk. All while feeding intel to the U.S. government. Brilliant.

  Through my gleeful tears, I catch Dylan’s observation as he walks. I assume he’ll look away, but he doesn’t. He keeps staring as if I’m a ticking time bomb. He’s waiting for something to happen. My laughter tapers off by the time we reach the storage closet they call a room.

  Once the door latches behind me, I eye Dylan. His arms are crossed over his chest while his back’s against the wall. While his brow is knit in perplexity, his eyes watch my every move. It’s creepy, to be honest, how close he follows me.

  “What happened in the car?”

  “I drank one too many.” Though my mind hums from the alcohol, it’s nothing compared to the high from Dylan’s presence. He doesn’t move from his spot. If he’s simply going to stand there, I may as well admire him.

  My eyes drift over him slowly. This could be the last time I see him, if Nickolas has any say. He won’t let Dylan return to Virginia, so I memorize his features. Since I last saw him, Dylan vastly trimmed his beard. It looks like a shadow compared to the bushy one I grew used to. The new look accents his strong jawline and makes me want to dive right into him. His slate-gray eyes undress me without trying. He strips me of every fabric until he sees straight into my soul. He doesn’t have the country club beauty, but I’ll take him over stuck-up pricks any day of the year.

  “Who were they?” he inquires, keeping his eyes fastened to me.

  I scratch my brow and glance to the watch Nickolas so kindly gifted to me. Time is ticking by fast, and I’ve no idea what Nickolas’s plan entails. Asking Dylan is tempting, but he’d tell me if he held knowledge of the next leg of our journey.

  “Who was who? I was in the car by myself.”

  Dylan’s cheek twitches at the blatant lie. How the hell does he know? Am I so easy to read?

  “The two men you spoke to, that’s who. Who were they?” his voice is laced with concern and a touch of malice. I open my mouth to explain, but he interrupts me. “Don’t lie to me again. I know you too well to play games.”

  Interesting. It seems three months is all it takes to crack my nut-like shell. Wonderful. My eyes turn to the watch. I’m not sure how Nickolas aims to disarm Dylan, but it’d be a whole lot easier if he passed out before I’m whisked away. If push comes to shove I could knock him out, but I’m not fond of that idea. The only pain I want to cause him involves both of us naked.

  “Fine. Nickolas and Brock.”

  “What’d they want?” Dylan asks before I can change the subject. Damn him. He reads me like a book. A raunchy, lie infested book.

  “Me. They want me. And they’ll do whatever it takes to get me.” I close the short distance between us and cup the side of his face. “I won’t let them take everything I care about, which is why I’m not fighting.” I check my wrist nervously and drop my hold. It’s nearly time.

  “I’d hang onto something if I were you,” I suggest, grabbing my backpack.

  “What?” His brows furrow together, his lips flat. The confusion is warranted. I’m not exactly painting it out in watercolors.

  “I wish I could say I’ll see you around, but I doubt that’ll happen.” I grab the doorknob, but Dylan pulls me into his arms.

  “Then don’t say it. Say you’ll see me again. Tell me to look for you after they phantom you from the train.”

  He tilts my head up, so I can see the inescapable love emit from his eyes. Damn, when did that happen? We’re fuck buddies, not lovers.

  “I can’t,” I whisper, caught in his sturdy arms. If I could stay there forever, I would.

  “You can, Mishka. Run away with me. I can keep us under the radar. I know you don’t want to marry him. You must’ve discovered that during your time in Verde,” he argues, squeezing his fingers to my waist.

  He isn’t wrong. My apprehension for Nickolas imploded when I arrived in Verde. Well, Dylan’s the reason those thoughts manifested. If he wasn
’t in the picture, I’d be free to fulfill my mandated destiny plus sneak in some payback.

  “For reasons I can’t explain, I have to leave with Nickolas.” I trace his bottom lip with my thumb. “Despite how much I want to go with you.”

  “They’re going to kill me once you’re gone. You know that, right?” Dylan searches my oceanic blue eyes.

  The truth hurts, and I wish it didn’t. If Dylan tries to follow us, Nickolas will kill him. If Dylan attempts to run, Nickolas will kill him. Any plot ends with demise. My connection to him will jeopardize my marriage to Nickolas. Neither man will be content unless they have no opposition.

  The train is slowing now. Nickolas’s plan will soon be in effect. The shrill whistle signals for my movement, but I can’t. I’m landlocked in Dylan’s arms. In reality, I keep myself here. If I wanted, I could ease his grip, but I desire to stay. I don’t want to add another jagged rip to my splintered heart.

  The train slams to a screeching halt, tearing me apart from Dylan. He stumbles backwards to the bed, and I wince when he bumps his head. Catching my balance, I swing the door open as an explosion echoes from the car in front of us. The cars jolt then the train accelerates.

  “Get out of here!”

  He’s conscious but his eyes are wild. Without another word, I bolt from the room. I don’t dare look back. Cursing my name would be warranted, but I push that thought away. I need to meet Nickolas, and Dylan needs to get as far away as possible.

  I run down the wobbling hallways while passengers’ screams fill the air. I hope they make it. It’s doubtful, but perhaps Nickolas will spare them.

  Spotting Brock, I curse a string of profanities. “I hope you have one hell of an escape route.”

  Brock nods his head to the smashed window up ahead.

  “Aw, fuck!” I spew with a frown. Braving the whipping wind, I follow him to the opening. A helicopter hovers outside, and I groan. Another chopper. Fuck my life.

  “This is a terrible idea,” I yell when Brock holds out his hand. I spy a lone individual, dangling on the rope ladder attached to the chopper. Squinting against the wind, I recognize Nickolas. “How the hell did he get there so fast?”