Dark Protector

by Celia Aaron

  “Holy shit, Con.”

  “I was bluffing…mostly.”

  Something told me he hadn’t been bluffing at all.

  “After that bit of persuasion, Vince agreed to help me.”

  “So he wasn’t always as horrible as he is now?” I had a hard time believing the man who’d put a hit out on me was anything other than a monster.

  “No, he’s always been a devious son of a bitch. He wanted something in return. Nothing’s free, especially not kindness. He’d only help if I agreed to assist him with turning Serge’s soldiers to Vince’s team and arrange accidents for the ones who stayed loyal. Also, when the time came, I had to kill Serge. Vince had wanted to be boss for a long time, and I helped him get set up to make it happen. Saving the girl was worth all those lives and more to me. Once I killed Serge, the debt was paid.”

  “What happened to the girl?”

  “Sabrina was adopted by a nice upper-middle-class family in Rhode Island.” I smiled. “She loves horseback riding and chess. All-American girl. She’s even lost her accent. After some intensive work with a therapist of my choosing, she was able to forget ‘the man in black’—me—and only sees me in nightmares now. I still check up on her every few months, though she has no idea. Vince and I kept the secret, and as far as Serge and everyone else knew, I’d killed her and buried her with her father.”

  “You never told anyone?”

  He shook his head. “Not even Nate. All of them think I did it. Nate had a hard time with it, but he forgave me after a while. It was either that or cut ties. I think maybe he realized what an even more miserable son of a bitch I’d be without him, and he had mercy on me.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For telling me. For giving something to me you’ve never given anyone else.” The warmth in his eyes wrapped my heart in a soft cocoon. “For being a good man.”

  His eyebrow arched. “Let’s not get carried away. I’ll still pop a cocksucker who looks at me wrong.”

  I brushed my lips across his. “Killer with a heart of gold.”

  “Stop.” He bit my lower lip.

  “All soft and melty on the inside.”

  “I’m warning you.” He leaned up and swiped his tongue into my mouth.

  “A real sweetheart.”

  He smirked. “That’s it.”

  “What?” I played innocent.

  He gripped my ass and pushed me lower until I straddled his thickening cock. “I’m going to have to fuck you until you know just how bad I can be.”

  27

  Charlie

  Over the next three days, Conrad’s leg healed enough for him to get around with a limp. He took over fishing duties as well as chopping wood for the stove. I tried to talk him into letting me hunt with one of the rifles or set some snares, but he refused to let me venture too far from the cabin. We spent a lot of time in bed, and I couldn’t seem to get enough of him or him of me.

  Every so often, we talked about plans. We couldn’t stay at the cabin forever. Someone was bound to see us or the car, and word would travel. The specter of Ramone floated around the periphery of our days and loomed closer when darkness fell. Sometimes I would catch Conrad staring off into the trees, his gaze as dark as his thoughts. If there was a way out of this mess, he’d find it. If there wasn’t, I would run with him until we got far enough away to start over.

  “Please don’t tell me you dug up more chicory.” He walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist as I salted some boiling water.

  “It’s good for you.”

  He nuzzled into my hair, his lips at my ear. “It tastes so bad it has to be.”

  I fell back to an old saying of my grandfather’s. “It’ll put hair on your chest.”

  “Too late,” he rumbled and kissed down my neck.

  “Well, there’s always a chance for me.”

  He laughed against my shoulder. “I’d still love you even if you had a chest forest.”

  I almost dropped the salt shaker, but managed to slide it onto the counter, then turned around to face him. “Love me?”

  He smiled, somehow looking sheepish. “Sorry. It just came out. But it’s true.” He lifted me until we were eye to eye. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you screwing up some ribbon on a vase that first day.”

  “Asshole.” I laughed. “That bow was perfect by the time I was done with it.”

  “You don’t have to say it back.” His tone was guarded, though his eyes were hopeful. “I can wait.”

  I wrapped my legs around his waist. “If I say it now, you’ll think it’s a pity ‘I love you.’”

  “I’ll take a pity ‘I love you.’”

  My heart turned into a puddle. “You’re a wet blanket, you know that?”

  He growled and nipped at my throat. “I’ve killed men for less.”

  “I believe it.” I giggled as his scruff tickled my throat. “But I do love you.”

  He popped up and met my eyes. “Do you mean it?”

  “I’ve never said it to anyone before, so I think it must be true for me to say it now.” My ears were hot, and all the air had left the room, but I was sure of my words. “I love you.”

  His eyes lit, joy like I’d never seen spreading across his rugged face. He carried me to the bed and lay me on my back. “Say it again.”

  “I love you.”

  He kissed me, gentle and warm. “One more time.”

  I laughed against his lips. “Conrad Mercer, I love you.”

  He made love to me that night, whispering praise and worshipping me with every touch and each kiss until we were both burning for a release. When we fell back to earth, I lay in his arms, weightless and spent.

  “I don’t deserve you.” He kissed my hair. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ll kill to keep you in my arms where you belong.”

  I sighed as sleep tugged me down. “You make murder sound more romantic than it should.”

  He laughed, his voice low and seductive. “Just one of the many benefits of loving the Angel of Death. Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll talk about our next move. After I’ve fucked you, of course.”

  “My calendar is clear, so I’m all yours.”

  He ran his hand down my back and rested his palm on my ass. “Yes, you are.”

  The woods were cold and bright as Conrad took off in the SUV toward the nearest main road. He needed to get in touch with Nate to get the lay of the land before we could make our plan to head west. I told him I’d stay in the cabin while he was gone, and I stood on the porch and waved as he bounced off down the gravel road.

  Once he was out of sight, I ducked inside and pulled my homemade snares from the closet. By the time he returned, I planned on having a rabbit feast prepared—no chicory root this time—along with a nice mushroom sauce and some winter greens. Would he be pissed that I left the cabin? Definitely. Would his happiness at a meal consisting of something other than fish override the anger? Hopefully.

  I walked across the road and into the underbrush, tramping along as my breath came out in white puffs. The bright blue sky peeked through the branches overhead, and the pine needles dulled my footfalls. My cabin fever fell away, and the open air invigorated my lungs. Something scurried out ahead of me and deeper into the woods. I smiled, certain I would be able to snare something in short order. I veered to the right, pushing through some brambly undergrowth until I found what I was looking for—a small game path through the leaf litter and pine needles. The exposed dirt and compressed leaves formed a trail that led deeper into the woods. I followed it along until I found a sapling that would work for my snare.

  I knelt and bent the sapling over, testing its heft. Once I was satisfied it could handle the weight of small game, I tied a length of twine near the top. After hammering a wooden stake into the ground and looping the twine to form a noose, I set the trap by tying the bent sapling to the stake, but giving it a trigger point that would set the sapling free once an anim
al was inside the slipknot. For bait, I coated the top of the stake with precious peanut butter.

  When the trap was ready, I backed up and checked my work. It looked tight, so I hiked a little farther down the path and set another. Con had only been gone for an hour by the time I was done, so I set off at an angle away from the cabin, sweeping in an arc, to try and find some mushrooms and greens.

  Another half hour in the woods yielded some dandelion greens and a handful of white mushrooms that I hoped would create a nice sauce once I sautéed them. It wasn’t time to check the snares yet, so I returned to the cabin and unloaded all my foraged goods. Not long after, the sound of an engine had me peeking out the front window.

  Con had returned. He stepped out of the SUV and scanned the tree line around the cabin. A thrill went through me as I watched him. Tall and lean, his strong body made him formidable even without an obvious weapon. He may have been hell-sent, but he had been put together with heavenly perfection.

  He stalked toward the cabin and unlocked the door. The second he saw me, he pulled me into his arms and inhaled deeply. “Fuck, I missed you. I was only gone for two hours. Felt like a lifetime.”

  I smiled against him. “What did you find out?”

  “Nothing good.” He glanced to the kitchen. “What’s all this?”

  I pulled his chin back around to me and stared up into his eyes. “You first.”

  “Fuck taking turns.” He swatted my hand away and claimed me in a kiss so fierce my knees went wobbly. When he pulled away, he ran his thumb across my bottom lip. “Did I mention I missed you?”

  Breathless and tingly, I nodded.

  He sat in the armchair and pulled me into his lap. “I talked to Nate. Vince isn’t taking chances. He’s sent out a dozen soldiers to find us, and Ramone is still out there.”

  “Is that normal?” My imagination conjured a horde of men in trench coats and black hats creeping up on the cabin, their guns drawn.

  “No, none of this is.” He scowled. “Vince is going both barrels just to save Berty from facing the music. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Do you think Berty has something on him?”

  He shrugged. “Could be. But if he did, it seems like Vince would have told me to pull the trigger.”

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair and placed the other on my lower back. He slid his fingers beneath my shirt, and his frown lessened, as if the skin to skin contact soothed him. “But something doesn’t add up.”

  “What are we going to do?” I rested my head on his shoulder.

  He sighed heavily, his chest falling. I didn’t like the sound of it.

  “We’re going to split up.”

  I sat up and met his gaze. “What?”

  He flattened his palm on my back. “Just for a little while.”

  “No.” My eyes began to burn, tears threatening.

  “Listen, Charlie.” He ran his thumb along my cheek. “I was made for one thing. I’m a killer. The only way to keep you safe is for me to go back—”

  “No!” I shook my head as a tear fell.

  “Yes.” He kept his tone low, his voice trying to lull me into accepting the unacceptable. “I’ll go back and do what I do. Then I’ll meet you out west.”

  My heart cracked in what I feared was a fatal wound. “They’ll kill you.”

  “Vince won’t stop until you’re dead.” His jaw hardened. “I won’t let that happen. Killing him and Berty is the only way out. Cut the head off the whole organization. After that, they’ll be too busy scrambling to give a shit about you and me.” He wiped my tears, though more fell to take their place. “And when it’s done, I’m going to find you. I promise.”

  “You can’t make that promise.” A sob shook me. “You can’t know what will happen.” Everything was falling apart in a matter of moments. He’d sentenced himself to death and expected me to agree with his judgment. I couldn’t let him go.

  “We’ll be together.” He tilted my quivering chin up and kissed me. “I’ll find you. I’ll always find you.”

  “Please don’t do this.” I flung my arms around his neck and clung to him.

  He held me close as I cried, his voice gentle. “Nate’s on his way to us. I’m going to meet him out on the highway, make sure he wasn’t followed. Once we’re clear, I’ll lead him here, drop some supplies off for you, and then he and I are going to handle Vince and Berty while you hit the road and don’t look back.”

  “No. I won’t leave you.”

  “You have to.”

  “Don’t do this to me.” He’d found me—we’d found each other—only for him to be taken away? I couldn’t breathe.

  “Shh.” He nestled into my hair. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

  Nothing would be all right. He’d be dead, and I’d be in the wind. “Liar.” I pushed against his chest and glared at him. “You’re lying. This is a suicide mission.” Pain morphed into anger until I was shaking. “Come with me. We’ll run. They won’t find us.”

  “Charlie, please.” He reached for my face, but I leaned away.

  “You don’t have to go.”

  Sadness marred his handsome face. “I do. It’s the only way—”

  “No, it’s not!” I scrambled to my feet. “We can go anywhere. Be anyone.”

  He shook his head and stood. “I’ve followed marks to Mexico, killed them while they were asleep in hovels far away from any real towns. I can find anyone, anywhere, and take them out. Ramone will hunt us until he has the bounties. It’s what makes him almost as dangerous as I am. We never stop until we kill our target.”

  Desperation clawed its way into my mind. “If you love me, you’ll come with me, and we’ll run.”

  He advanced until I had to crane my neck back to see his eyes. “I love you more than I’ve loved anything in my whole life. You’re worth dying for.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  He gripped my upper arms almost hard enough to hurt. “Not a chance.”

  “I can help. I know how to shoot.”

  “It’s not about knowing how to shoot. It’s about being willing to pull the trigger no matter what. Every time. No questions, no remorse, just blood. That’s not you.”

  “It could be.” I didn’t know if it was true, but I’d try anything to stay with him.

  “I don’t want it to be. Knowing you’re safe is the only way I’ll be able to focus on the job. The only chance I have of coming out alive. You have to go.”

  Everywhere I turned, he had a reason, a fact; a brick wall that was slowly stacking up to separate us.

  “I need to know you’ll go when the time comes.” He picked me up and carried me to the bed, laying me down gently and hovering over me. “I can’t do this without the promise of you living a happy life.”

  “I can’t without you.”

  “You can, and I told you, I’ll find you.”

  “Stop lying.” The fabric of my soul seemed to be ripping apart, razor blades skating along its surface. Tears tickled my ears as he tried to wipe them away. “You aren’t coming back.”

  Instead of arguing, he kissed me, his tongue sure and demanding. I held onto him, needing every touch, every degree of heat that passed between us. He moved against me, rubbing his hard length against my clit through my jeans. Each thrust made me buzz, made my stomach tighten.

  He relinquished my mouth and kissed to my neck. “You are everything to me. All I’ve ever wanted.” He sat back and stripped off his shirt and pants as I shucked my jeans off. Falling over me, he pushed inside, and I moaned at the sudden, delicious intrusion. “This”—he punctuated the word with a hard thrust—“is my heaven. I’ll kill as many men as I have to if it means I’ll get back to you.”

  I dug my nails into his back as he pounded into me, the old bed springs screeching as the sound of skin on skin filled my ears. “Come back to me.” Tears still poured from me even as my body responded to him, chasing a release that I fe
ared would be the last.

  “If I have to kill Satan himself, I will.” He kissed me, his lips ferocious as he fucked me with no reservations.

  My heart thundered, and my body shook with each impact. He reached between us and stroked my clit, his eyes on mine as he urged me toward the cliff.

  “Come for me. I need to see it, to taste it.” His gruff voice was tinged with emotion as he stared down at me. “I’ll carry it with me.”

  I rocked against his hand, everything in me winding tighter and tighter. I threw my head back into the pillow and spread my legs as wide as they would go. My release hit hard, skittering along my nerve endings from my core to my fingertips. I called his name and clawed his back as he pistoned into me. Then he groaned and claimed my lips again. His cock kicked inside me, filling me as I wrapped my legs around his waist.

  When he was spent, he kissed my neck and whispered in my ear, “I love you. I always will.”

  28

  Charlie

  Watching him leave nearly broke me. I leaned against the front door, my arms crossed over my chest as clouds rolled across the sky, the sun falling behind the pines. The brake lights disappeared among the trees. No more tears fell. Not because I wasn’t sad—I was. But I’d accepted there was no way out except Con’s way.

  A distant rumble of thunder flooded the woods as the wind began to pick up. The undergrowth across the dirt road shook when a gust rushed past. I’d forgotten about my snares. They’d been out for most of the day. We weren’t going to have the chance to eat the dinner I was planning, but I couldn’t leave any snared animals out to die if I could save them. I opened the door and grabbed my navy coat from the peg before heading out into the woods.

  It took me about fifteen minutes to find the first trap. By then, fat drops of cold rain had begun to fall. The noose was empty, but the peanut butter had been licked clean. My trigger hadn’t been sensitive enough, or perhaps the animal wasn’t big enough, to spring the trap. I yanked the twine, and the trap popped up, the noose dangling harmlessly from the top of the sapling.