Memoirs of a Retired Assassin (Trilogy Bundle) (Romantic Suspense)

by Hart, Melissa F.

  I gasped as images of newspaper articles about a high profile drug case came to mind. I blinked my eyes, remembering all too vividly the names of John's parents printed in black and white as representing the federal government.

  “And they realized Bridget was selling.”

  “And my parents had been named Bridget's legal guardians,” I concluded.

  “Right. And my parents were representing the state. They couldn't be found to be connected to you, your family or Bridget in any way possible. They had to cut all ties.”

  “Including us,” I breathed.

  He nodded again. “Including us.”

  “So, why couldn't you have told me this at the time? Why couldn't you have been honest about it instead of just dumping me in front of the entire school, then dropping subtle hints about us getting back together for next two years?”

  “Because my parents made me swear.”

  “And?” I demanded. This was the guy who didn't give a shit about disobeying orders, the guy who would pick me up from my house in the middle of the night so that we could go illegally drink on the beach, the guy who had just broken me out of an asylum. What did he care about rules?

  “And well, you know how Bridget died.”

  I lost the battle with my tears and was barely able to look away before they began streaming down my face. “Yes, I know how you killed her.”

  “Yeah well, they made me do that too.”

  “Cutting all ties.”

  “Yeah, well Bridget knew more about me and my parents than they cared for, so they had to get rid of her.”

  I swiped the tears from my face with an angry hand and glared at him. “Well, John, after breaking my heart and then killing my best friend, I'm not sure there's anything you can do to make me happy again.”

  I ripped the cloth napkin from my lap and threw it into my plate of half-eaten food.

  “Jeanine,” he protested as I noisily scooted my chair back and stood up.

  “Nope,” I muttered, straightening my skirt.

  “Seriously, Jeanine, wait.”

  My heart skipped a beat as I felt his hand on my arm. I tried to yank myself away, but his grip tightened.

  “Please, just... just don't run off all angry like that.”

  I rolled my eyes, squaring my feet into a stance that signified the fact that I was not going anywhere.

  He slowly let go of my arm, then took a step toward me. “Jeanine, I.... as soon as it happened I ran after you. I went straight to your house but you had already gone.”

  “I was with my grandfather.” I glanced at where he rested his hand on the table. His fingers were trembling.

  “And then I... I waited for you the whole night. I sat right outside of your window and waited for you.”

  “I stayed with him the whole night.” As I said this, I realized I could just make out his scent, if I leaned in ever so slightly and concentrated. It was the same cologne he wore in high school, a smell I knew so well. It was the smell that clung to almost all of my T-shirts, the smell that hung on my skin when I borrowed his jackets or slept in his bed. The smell that had taken days to fade even after we had broken up. My toes tingled with an irrational desire as my blood ran hot.

  “It took me until the sun came up the next morning…” He began to trail his fingers up and down my cheek.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I clutched my hands into fists. It was hard enough to just resist falling into his arms, let alone to let myself out of his grip and run off.

  “... to realize that you might have run away.”

  My eyes fluttered closed as he moved his hand to the back of my head, intertwining his fingers in my hair and tightening his grip. As if controlled by an external force, my hand clutched his waist. “I had already gone to the airport,” I breathed.

  He rested his forehead against mine. “Oh, Jeanine,” he murmured. “Where did you go?”

  I placed my other hand on the other side of his waist, letting myself melt into his arms. My body moved against every ounce of will in my head. I tried to repeat what he had done to me to myself, tried to tell myself that none of this meant anything. But I knew deep down that that wasn't true. John hadn't ever really left me after all. And... and now that he was here, resisting him just didn't seem to have a point anymore.

  “Greece,” I whispered. Our lips met before I could even finish this word. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the familiar sensation of his lips against mine. We weren't two strangers knocking on the door of thirty years of age. We hadn't lived through ten years apart from each other, leading completely different lives. We were eighteen-year-old lovers who had grown up together, who knew each other better than any two people could ever know each other. For us, in that moment, time did not exist.

  My warm longing quickly morphed into a hot desire as we continued to kiss each other. As a person needs oxygen to survive, I needed every inch of his body.

  “I searched for you for ten years,” he hissed when we both came up for air.

  I tilted my head back as he began sucking on my neck and placed my right hand on the back of his head. He then lifted me just high enough to sit on the edge of the table and began massaging my breasts with both of his hands. I pressed at the back of his head, wanting him to go lower as I shrugged my shoulders so the sides of my dress would slip off.

  He took the hint, ripping the neckline of my dress down until both of my breasts were exposed. I moaned in satisfaction as he began sucking on my nipples. With trembling, impatient fingers, I found my way to his belt and unhooked it.

  He lifted his head and began kissing me again as he unzipped his own pants in order to make this whole thing go faster. A smile spread across my face as my fingers wrapped around his member and he began sucking my neck again. I massaged him as he quickly slipped my underwear down my legs.

  We froze at the sharp sound of the intercom buzzer. “John?” It was Alorah's voice.

  I turned my head up. drawing in as much oxygen as possible.

  John did not move, but stretched his right hand to the wall directly behind us and pressed the button on the intercom. “Yes.”

  I giggled at how strained his voice sounded.

  “There's a man here at the door for you.”

  I groaned, letting go of him and leaning back onto the table.

  “Fine.”

  ***

  Chapter Five

  I followed John to the door, driven by my insatiable curiosity. What kind of people come to John's door? Why would he be expecting company on a day like this?

  John unbolted the heavy door and swung it open to reveal Liam. My blood boiled in hot anger as I stood frozen to my spot just behind John. Liam just nodded at John, pushing past him and straight toward me.

  “Hey, Kitty cat!” he exclaimed as he approached with arms open. As soon as he was within arm's length, I slapped him in the face.

  “Whoa, Jeanine, what the hell?” John exclaimed.

  Liam coughed once, then took two cautionary steps back. “What, did four months in a hospital make you insane?”

  “How dare you?” I sneered.

  John pushed himself in between the two of us. “I'm sorry, who are you?”

  “The sorriest piece of shit who ever lived,” I retorted.

  John slowly turned to face me with a disbelieving look in his eye. “Jeanine!”

  “What?” I demanded, pushing past him. “He was my partner for three years,” I started, taking heavy steps toward him as I talked. I did not stop walking until I had him against the wall. “Before he ditched me in a state prison.”

  “I took my opportunity to leave so that I could help you,” Liam cried defensively.

  “Bullshit!” I spat, slapping him again.

  “Jeanine, that's enough,” I heard John mutter from behind me.

  “Will you listen to me for five seconds—” Liam begged.

  “Don't even try to defend yourself, you asshole,” I replied.

>   “Oh come on, Jeanine. I helped you break out of that asylum, didn't I?”

  I blinked as the image of those blue eyes I just couldn't place came to mind. “Oh...” I breathed.

  “Here.” He shoved a piece of paper at me.

  Interception complete. Do not doubt our resources. Do not doubt our capabilities. We will surprise you every time. You have lost two of your most valued agents because of your arrogance and unwillingness to surrender. The assassination of the British Prime Minister is just the beginning. Doubt us again and you will be surprised at what we have in store for you.

  TO BE CONTINUED IN BOOK THREE: Finished - Volume 3

  ***

  Finished

  ***

  Chapter One

  I woke up first. One glance to my right told me that John was, indeed, still lying there. A smile tickled at the edges of my lips as I sat there watching him rest. He looked so peaceful and benign in his sleep. When I stared at his bare tanned skin, watching his chest rise and fall ever so slightly, he looked less like the man I barely recognized and more like the John I always remembered. His brow furrowed in his sleep, just like it always did when we were younger.

  As a teenager, I would imagine he was having some nightmare about being left in a mall somewhere as a toddler. He always was anxious about being left. It was something we had in common, something I could understand about him, considering the fact that we both had parents who disappeared at a moment's notice due to business trips and work meetings. We both didn't know what it felt like to have a stable home with stable adult figures. Children learn pretty early to trust those who surround them, and neither of us were afforded that privilege.

  Or maybe he wasn't having a nightmare at all, maybe he was having some sort of adventure dream where he saved me from a burning building, or from sharks far out at sea. I could just hear his voice, telling me that if I just took his hand everything would be okay. Telling me not to worry about jumping from the second floor window into the pool because as long as he was there, he wouldn't let me get hurt. Telling me that if I closed my eyes and just took a swig of alcohol, all of my problems would go away. Telling me that even if no one cared about me, if I always felt alone, I shouldn't be afraid because no matter what, he would always care.

  Then I heard his voice telling me that he was sorry. I heard the crack of a man breaking his promises, heard the thud of my heart skidding to a stop at the sight of a girl; her blonde curls soiled in her own blood, her blue body twisted and curled around her, her arm purple and bruised from the countless needles jammed into her skin.

  I could feel his cold hands on my arms, holding me to my spot, telling me I couldn't go anywhere or tell anyone. I couldn't do anything until his parents arrived and figured out what to do. There was the sound of his voice, telling me that everything was okay, that one day, I would understand everything. But I didn't ever want to understand this. To attempt to put an explanation to murder was like trying to justify it and to me, that didn't seem fair to her.

  Then I heard him telling me to wait, telling me to stay, telling me he was sorry. I could feel my legs taking off, feel the wet marshy ground under my feet as I rushed through the backyard to my car, could feel the rough gas pedal under my feet as I pushed the sedan to its maximum speed, no matter what, unable to get where I needed to go fast enough.

  I pulled my legs up and held them to my torso with my arms. My eyes flickered shut as I forced myself to forget everything I had just remembered. My head seared with a pain I hadn't realized until then. I curled my trembling fingers into a fist, burying my face against my knees.

  Before too long, I heard a rustle in the sheets next to me. “Good morning...” John muttered as he turned to face me.

  I sucked in two more breaths, then arranged my face into a smile before trusting myself to look at him. “Hey...”

  He narrowed his eyes at something. I followed his gaze until I rested my own eyes on a bruise on my thigh.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  I shrugged, staring at the purple skin. “Oh, I don't know.”

  He sat up and began to gently press his fingers into my skin. “What do you mean, you don't know?”

  I raised an eyebrow, chuckling quietly. “Nothing. It just means I don't know. Jeeze, Daddy.”

  He folded his lips into a half smile and sat up, intertwining the fingers of his right hand in my hair. “Call me that again,” he murmured, resting his forehead against mine.

  I giggled, licking my lips. “Daddy.”

  His half smile morphed into a full-blown grin before he pressed his lips against mine. I closed my eyes, allowing my body to respond to his touch. I unwrapped my arms from my knees, allowing my legs to slowly fall back onto the sheets. As we kissed each other, we gently lowered back onto the bed. I grunted as he flattened me. My right hand pressed his head against my neck as he began to suck on me. I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter, focusing on the sensation of his tongue on my collar bone: hard and then soft. He swirled it around in spine-tingling circles.

  I dug my fingers into his back, wanting him to be closer and closer. I couldn't get enough of him. Then he moved down to my breasts. He held each of them in his hands as he alternated between fondling my nipples and sucking on them. My blood boiled with desire, my toes curled in almost unbearable pleasure. I held his member in my hand, massaging it in every way I knew how. His moans and grunts brought me pleasure.

  He then pressed his lips against mine once again. I sighed in ecstasy as he gently moved his hand to the space in between my legs. I slid his fingers away and lifted my face away from his, focusing on getting him inside of me. My eyelids flipped back and I gazed up at him, watching his eyes roll back in pleasure at the same time that he entered me.

  My diaphragm contracted, sucking in a large, sharp breath as the pressure turned to pleasure. I wrapped my legs around his waist, clutching his bum with my hands as he began to thrust, slowly at first. They were the first few tentative movements, almost like a question, a request. I gasped again, sliding my right hand up to the back of his head and clutching his dark hair as firmly as I could.

  We gazed at each other for one short moment, then he kissed me — one soft kiss — and then time stopped. And then nothing mattered. And then there was no bed or house or world. We were everything and nothing. We were so massive and destructive, yet small and subtle at the same time. His chest, his hair, his legs, his lips, they were all that I knew. I'd never experienced anything like this. This moment that could have lasted years, or less than a second, was the very moment I had lived my entire life for without even knowing it.

  All I wanted was to stay there forever. I wanted him to be there for me forever and that scared me. I'd spent the better part of the last ten years convincing myself that I didn't need anyone but me, that I could make it through life without a real shoulder to lie on, and yet here he was by my side even though I never asked for him. I was vulnerable and yet, for the first time, I was okay with that.

  He then went up for air, panting. “Jeanine...” he breathed.

  I nodded ever so slightly. “I know.”

  ***

  Chapter Two

  The sound of forks and knives hitting the surface of expensive china filled John's dining room. I focused on my own plate of eggs and toast, trying to ignore Liam's stare, even though I could feel it like the heat of the southern summer sun.

  I glanced up at him as I put an unusually large forkful of eggs in my mouth. He glared at me. I could feel the cogs turning in his head, feel him realizing the fact that John and I shared a bed last night, feel him running through all of those implications in his head. I thought about a million ways to apologize to him, although not quite sure how or why I would ever pull that off. It's not like Liam and I were actually an item. We were more like partners who fucked every once and awhile when we got bored. At least, that was how I saw it. I sighed to myself, realizing that there was no way I could ever psych myself into forgetting the fac
t that he made it obvious how he felt about me and I ignored it every time.

  I wondered how hard that must have been for him, showing up at a stranger’s house in a place he had never been before and finding the woman he loved in the arms of someone entirely different.

  “Am I, uhm, missing something?” John muttered before gulping down the last bit of his mimosa.

  I shrugged, shifting my gaze away from Liam. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” I replied in a quick voice.

  John raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it's just y’all look like you're trying to kill each other with your stares.”

  Liam guffawed. “That's what it is,” he muttered sarcastically.

  I cocked my head to one side, narrowing my eyes at him. “Really, Liam?” I pressed.

  He lifted his shoulders and pursed his lips together. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  I huffed, highly annoyed with the fact that he was pulling his usual passive aggressive self-entitlement in front of John. “Right. Of course not.”

  Liam stuffed another forkful of eggs and sausage into his mouth.

  John and I watched him, John genuinely curious and benignly wanting to know what inside joke he was missing and me just curious to find out how exactly he was going to cover up his jealousy in front of John.

  “I'm just intrigued by your new... look,” Liam replied.

  I rolled my eyes. “What about it?”

  “Blonde?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I just wouldn't think that you would choose that color. It just doesn't seem to match you at all,” he murmured, passively glancing at John.

  I furrowed my brows, confused as to what John had to do with this. “Well, isn't that the point with these things?”

  “Hmm... I suppose. But still. I just don't think you picked that out for yourself.”