The Complete Contract Series: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, & Part Four

by Steele, Suzanne

  I make my way to the medicine cabinet first and grab a couple of Ultram that my doctor prescribed for headaches. I’m not big on taking them, but it is something that is stronger than over the counter meds yet don’t affect me taking care of my son. I made the doctor just about sign a blood oath that they weren’t addictive and they wouldn’t affect me caring for Tommy. If I had known what he was thinking when I asked, I would have seen he was impressed with my dedication to the kid. I would stay in pain before I did anything that could put my son in harm’s way. I look at the razor blade hidden in plain sight, I owe Tommy my life—he saved it.

  I finished making coffee and a knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. I look out and view what I perceive to be a delivery man with an envelope in his hand. I haven’t ordered anything and I’m curious if the poor guy has the wrong door. Rather than see him lost in a neighborhood like this, I open it.

  “Yes, how can I help you?”

  “I was instructed to give you this.”

  “Are you certain you don’t have me mixed up with someone else?”

  He chuckles, “No Ma’am, I’m certain you are the party to whom I am to give this.”

  I take the envelope and when I attempt to shut the door, he speaks again.

  “Ma’am, I was directed to await you reading that note.”

  “Okay, let’s see what we have here.” I turn placing Tommy on the blanket with his toys and bottle and open the envelope.

  Ms. Melanie Edwards,

  It is going to take a certain amount of trust for you to do what I am asking of you—just think of me as a Robin Hood of sorts.

  I believe we can help one another out and I know you and your son will benefit from my offer.

  You see… my Aunt is up in years and I would like to offer you an apartment, furnished of course, and an income for caring for her. There really isn’t much to do as she is in good health. Your biggest job would be as a companion and helping to take her to the grocery store and such. Of course a car would be provided for you to do so.

  If you would be so kind as to accompany my driver he will take you to meet her and see the residence. I know this will be beneficial for you in the sense of not having to remain at your late night job, and also it will enable you to move out of the neighborhood you have been subjected to.

  Please rest assured I am safe and I expect nothing in return—nothing but the peace of mind of knowing my elderly Aunt is being cared for by someone as kind hearted as yourself.

  Sincerely: A Robin Hood of sorts.

  I look up to see the driver smiling and holding out his arm as if there is no doubt in his mind I will be accompanying him for the job.

  As if reading my mind he speaks, “Ms. Melanie there is a car seat in the car and coffee at the drive-thru on the way. I can smell yours brewing, so I know you haven’t had yours yet this morning,” he stated, when I eyed him like he was crazy.

  “Because you have the appearance of a professional driver and because I would do just about anything to get my son out of this neighborhood, I am going to accompany you to meet this this mysterious aunt.”

  “Very well, Ms. Melanie.”

  I turn off the coffee, grab my purse, and pick up Tommy before I change my mind. Answering a cryptic request is totally out of character for me. I know even though I can’t remember details from last night, it did shake me up. If something would have happened to me, my son would be an orphan. I owe him more than that. I need to at least check this elderly woman out. If she needs someone and she can provide a decent place for my son and me to live, I am going to take her up on her offer. I’m desperate for a way out of my terrible living situation, and I’m even more desperate to get Tommy out of the neighborhood we live in before he is old enough to be thrown into the drug culture. I have seen too many kids peddling dope just to fit in, or just to help their families out financially.

  The driver’s voice cuts through my thoughts as he asks what kind of coffee I prefer. I can’t help but take note of how educated this man sounds. It is evident my Robin Hood is very wealthy—another reason I feel safe about going to meet his aunt. People who have a lot to lose don’t throw it away for some nobody like me. I order a latte and I’m embarrassed I don’t have the money to pay for it. I can’t remember the last time I had good coffee and I nurse it, savoring the aroma as well as the flavor.

  “There are teething cookies located in the diaper bag which has been prepared for you, Ma’am. Giving him one will keep him from eyeing that coffee you have.” I look over and see a designer diaper bag I hadn’t even noticed. I look up to see a twinkle in the driver’s eye as he speaks, “Go ahead, it’s your bag now. The boss had that, as well as other items, purchased for you.”

  As if reading my thoughts, he continues talking. “I know this probably seems very odd to you, but my boss is big into philanthropy and he just wants to help you.”

  “I’m not a charity case” I bark out, before taking time to think.

  “He doesn’t perceive you as such. He does view hiring you as beneficial to everyone involved and he is a very skilled business man like that. It’s just how his mind works. Thinking that way has worked very well for not only him, but his employees in the past.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bite your head off.”

  We pull into a driveway connected to a home which looks like it came out of a suburban sitcom. Everything is pristine, right down to the landscaping.

  “Come,” the driver speaks as he opens the door for my son and me to easily exit the luxury Cadillac.

  “We will look at the apartment first and see if it is to your liking.”

  To my liking? Normally no one gives a shit about what I like or don’t like.

  Tommy bounces in my arms, still gleefully sucking on the teething cookie the driver provided. We make our way to the back of the house and I already know I’m going to love it here. The apartment looks like something from a fairy tale and it only gets better when he unlocks the door.

  We walk in and there is a dining area and kitchen to the right. A living room sits off to the left. Someone has taken great care to furnish this place and it is beautiful. It has a contemporary country look and feel to it which makes it immediately feel very homey. It’s just the kind of place I would love to see my son grow up in.

  I make my way through the apartment and back into the master bedroom with an adjoining full bathroom. Everything is perfect. The huge antique poster bed with a flowered duvet and plush pillows is the central piece of furniture in the room. The room also houses a dresser, chest of drawers, vanity—complete with high end cosmetics and beauty supplies—and a wardrobe, not to mention the huge flat screen TV on the wall. I make my way around the room touching things, as if it will solidify the reality of it all. A walk-in closet catches my eye and I carefully make my way into it, pulling Tommy’s saliva filled, cookie stained hands back from the designer clothing. Curiosity causes me to look at the sizes that I instinctively know are my size. Now I’m a little freaked out.

  I look up to see the driver holding an expensive cell phone out for me to take. “It’s the boss. He is certain you have questions.”

  My hand trembles as I take the phone and try to juggle my son in my other arm.

  “May I?” The driver asks offering to hold him.

  I hand Tommy to him and speak into the phone, “Hello?”

  A rich baritone voice on the other end makes me wonder what the man behind that sexy ass voice looks like.

  “I’m certain you have questions, Melanie. I want you to stay at the apartment. Everything you and Tommy need has been adequately provided for you. If you have need of anything else, you may call me on this cell phone you are presently using; this is your cell phone, it has my number already programmed in it. You have also been provided with a top of the line laptop which is located in your office.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I don’t like being questioned Melanie, but I will allow it due to the
circumstances. I have already informed you through my driver, my Aunt is in need of a caretaker of sorts. She adores children and she will adore you, just as I already do. Now be a good girl and go meet her and get settled into your new home.”

  “Wait a minute, what is your name?”

  “You may address me as Sir… and Melanie I will be very displeased if you go back to that dump of an apartment you used to live in, is that understood?”

  Not completely understanding why, I answered, “Yes Sir…”

  Chapter Twelve

  Miller & Stormy

  I eye Miller as he sits on the bed next to me cleaning his gun with great care.

  “I’m worried about the woman we saved last night.”

  “She has a name and it’s Melanie.”

  “It doesn’t change the fact I am concerned about her.”

  “She’s fine.”

  “Oh really, how would you know?”

  “Do I detect some jealousy on your part?”

  “Maybe.”

  “She’s not my type and she is being well cared for.”

  “How would you know?”

  “You are jealous, I’m flattered.”

  “Tell me how you know. You’re pissing me off, Miller.”

  “Better than being pissed on.”

  “Fuck you, Miller.”

  “I think I will,” he growls, as he slowly sets the ammunition for his gun on the nightstand and checks it to make certain it isn’t loaded.

  He rips at the skimpy underwear I have on under his long shirt I’m wearing, and shreds the buttons off of it, laying it open as I listen to them pop off of the surfaces that they hit. My mouth is hung open in disbelief.

  “Get those fucking legs back and your hands better not come off of your ankles. That’s it, pull them back and hold them by your ankles.”

  I gasp in disbelief as he presses the long nose of the gun into my opening. He is scaring the shit out of me.

  “Right here is where I’ll shoot you if you ever fuck around on me. Fuck that gun girl, give me a show. That’s it, good girl.”

  I watch as he pulls his cock from his jeans and slowly strokes it while he talks dirty to me.

  “Fuck it, baby,” he moans as he pushes it deeply into me grinding it in circles. “Play with your clit, it’s so swollen, you’re such a dirty girl. You enjoy the way I defile you and I damn sure enjoy doing it. Fuck it baby, that’s it, grind those hips, baby girl. Come on, baby, come for me.”

  He is rapidly pulling at his cock as he watches me fucking his gun. My nipples turn to hardened peaks as I cry out in the sheer ecstasy of doing something this dangerous—fucking the gun which is used to kill people who don’t deserve the breath of life. He groans as cum spills out over his hand and onto the jeans he is wearing. I push the unloaded weapon out of me and reach over to hand him a baby wipe. I’m still not finished with the conversation about the waitress.

  “I won’t tolerate you fucking around on me, Miller!” I say it before I lose the courage.

  He surprises me by chuckling and giving me the answer I hoped for. “I don’t want another woman. I want you…all of you.”

  “Then why are you keeping tabs on her?”

  My intentions are to make sure she doesn’t have any memory of what happened last night. It seems our little damsel in distress has caught the interest of someone else.

  “Who?”

  “Black rose…”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Black Rose

  I watch her on surveillance as she walks around the bedroom in wide eyed wonder. It is every little girls dream to be rescued by a knight in shining armor and my little Rose is no different. I guess if I note any difference in her, it is that she truly needs to be rescued. I do too. I just haven’t decided if I want to be rescued yet.

  I want her; I do know that much. The cross of fear and wide eyed wonder in her expression is making my cock hard. She has no idea who I am, or why I would show any interest in a cast off of society. She doesn’t deserve what life has dished out to her and I am going to be the change she so desperately is in need of. The thought of her son growing up in that cesspool of a neighborhood he has been subjected to is unbearable to me. He is the perfect child to be inserted into my life because I have no desire to spawn offspring with serial killer DNA.

  I will be very displeased with her if she takes the child I have already become attached to back into that neighborhood. She will not go unpunished if she displeases me in any manner.

  I will let her get settled in before I introduce myself. For now it is imperative I remain a mystery. I can’t wait to have her in my clutches—to feel her warm skin beneath my fingertips and her pulsing jugular beneath my lips. She is so beautiful…so innocent…and she is so mine…

  Chapter Fourteen

  Agent Turner

  I eye my partner, my partner who I just happen to be fucking. I’ve always had a weakness for redheads and this girl fits the stereotypical redhead perfectly. She is feisty, smart, and hot as hell. I knew as soon as they brought her in six months ago I wouldn’t be able to resist her—I had just hoped she would feel the same way and damned if she didn’t.

  Her voice pulls me out of the daydream of all my reasons she is perfect for a fucked up man such as myself.

  “David?”

  “It’s Agent Turner on the job, Rene.”

  “David,” she speaks again ignoring me.

  “This is nothing more than a case of a dope dealer getting shot down in a field. Hell it could have been a drive by, from a rival gang banger for all we know.”

  “This guy isn’t drive by material, nor is he a dope dealer. Look at him, the guy looks like a pansy, some office worker nobody ever notices. Not to mention the fact he was killed execution style. Now the only question is why someone would put a hit out on a man who has no connection to drug addicts, much less dealers.”

  “We don’t know that, he has drugs on him. You’re the one who always says if you hear horse hooves, don’t look for a zebra. Why are you second guessing this when the evidence says he was dealing drugs? Nobody has packaged up dope—dope set up for individual sales—if they aren’t selling drugs.”

  I take the baggy she is referring to and count out the individual sealed off baggies—ten to be exact. Nothing about this guy says he was involved in the drug culture and nothing she can say will convince me otherwise.

  I curse the rain from the night before that has washed away evidence I would normally be privy to. I make my way over to the side of the dilapidated building and take a chance there may be footprints, and sure enough, under a cheap piece of metal which at one time served as an awning, is a footprint.

  “Rene, somebody was here last night and it wasn’t a man by the looks of the sizing on this shoe print. Get CSI out here and have them get shots of this. And one more thing, it’s time for you and I to do some good ole fashioned leg work. Somebody saw or heard something last night.” I point to the projects across the street. “The streets have eyes and in the hood they have x-ray vision.”

  “I can already see I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this.”

  “Nope, I’m like a dog with a bone, girl.”

  She leans in and whispers, even though no one else is around, “No, you’re like a cop with a boner—a perpetual hard on.”

  “You are such a dirty girl.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “By the time I get done with you girl, I’ll know all of your dirty little secrets.”

  “Sounds like fun to me, but in the meantime let’s get these boys out here processing evidence so I can say ‘I told you so’ when you find out this guy was peddling dope. With unemployment the way it is, law abiding citizens are turning to breaking the law to pay the bills.”

  “Good luck with that girl, because my gut instincts have never been wrong yet, and my gut is telling me there is a hell of a lot more to this than what meets the eye.”

  “Well my gut is telling me I�
�m hungry.”

  “Oh no you don’t, you just finished breakfast. We are knocking on doors before people start getting too high and paranoid to talk.”

  “Yes Sir,” she answers me, rolling her eyes.

  I like the sound of that, because there is nothing I would love more than being her Sir…

  Stormy

  “Why do I keep feeling like I forgot something in that field last night?”

  Miller chuckles and speaks, “That’s why they always say criminals return to the scene of a crime. It’s also the reason I don’t permit you to wear jewelry or anything else that could be jerked off in a struggle on a hit.”

  “I’ve gone through everything in my mind as far as getting caught, anything that I could have missed or forgotten, yet when I search my heart for guilt, I have no remorse about killing that guy. I’m more concerned about not getting caught than I am the fact I’m a cold-blooded killer.”

  “That’s the true mark of a hit woman. On another note, that’s the reason you jumping out of the car like that was stupid. I can’t tell you if you left evidence because I wasn’t there to monitor the kill shot.”

  “You’re not making me feel any better, Miller.”

  “You need to think before you act. I hope you learn a lesson from it.”

  “What if there’s footprints or something?”

  “It rained, silly.”

  “I stood under that awning for a second in muddy shoes, Miller.”

  “That is why we burn clothing in an incinerator after a kill.”

  Even though he is saying all the right things, it isn’t making me feel any better. I am scared. I don’t want to go to jail, but I also don’t want to let Miller down. He was doing perfectly well without me and I sure don’t want to be the reason he could get caught. He will be in prison for life if they ever find out who he is and what he is doing for a living. The thing that scares me the most about either of us going to jail is the fact that I can’t imagine my life without him.

  This is the first time in my life I can ever remember needing someone the way I need him. It isn’t in a needy, whiny, weak way; it is more like I don’t want to lose my partner. I don’t want to lose my best friend. He makes me feel safe. Ironically enough, this is the most precarious manner I have ever lived my life. Before Miller, I was safe in my self-made cocoon, yet always scared. Now I am living life on the edge, and the only thing I fear is losing my partner in crime.