The Contract

by Suzanne Steele

  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.

  It is settled—I need to train hard, pay attention, and be careful to do what he says. He has been doing this a lot longer than I have, and he has been trained by the best—the military. They had no idea they were training a man who would not only kill for his country, but also for the inhabitants of his country after his return home.

  Whether it is abroad, or on American soil, Miller has every intention of protecting his fellow man, and I have every intention of protecting… my man…

  Melanie

  I am sitting in a quaint living room as I’m watching the endearing aunt of a mysterious man I have not met as of yet, and I feel unusually comfortable. I don’t have the normal awkward feeling that people have when they meet someone for the first time. Tommy is sitting on her lap cooing as if she is his long lost grandmother.

  “Oh my, he certainly is teething. Has he been fussy?”

  I chuckle, as I hand her a dribble towel from the new designer bag that the man I only know as Sir, bought.

  “He is never fussy and he certainly seems to like you an awful lot.”

  “I wasn’t able to have children of my own. That is why my nephew Charles is so dear to me.”

  I roll his name over in my mind and find myself wondering why he didn’t tell me his name. He only insisted I call him Sir. I resist the temptation to fish for his last name so I can google him.

  “I would love to have you and the baby staying here and I really am not much trouble.”

  “Well I’ll be honest with you Miss Jones, I live in government housing and I need this job. I don’t feel my son is safe in the neighborhood we are in.” I couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly at the cliché name but that was her name, Thelma Jones. She had gone through her life unmarried and childless, so it made perfect sense she was so enthralled with her nephew Charles.

  “Well, it is settled then. The two of you have a new home and a new family. Charles needs a friend. Why, every time I see that boy in the newspaper, he has a different woman on his arm. I just hate him being subjected to those women who are clearly using him for the social status he is able to afford them.

  Now she has my curiosity up. “Do you have an article I can see? I haven’t met him and it would help to know who I’m conversing with on the phone he provided me.”

  “Why yes, I keep every article my Charles is in.”

  I waited while she went to retrieve it and found myself hoping he wasn’t some middle-aged, paunch gutted guy. Why should I even care? I wasn’t sleeping with him and I had no intentions of doing so.

  She hands me the paper and Charles Wentworth the 3rd is anything but middle aged with a paunch gut…

  He is well over six feet with a thin athletic build and blonde hair. The tuxedo he wears in the picture is tailor made and his stark blue eyes jump off of the paper at me.

  The woman who is accompanying him is everything I am not…beautiful. She looks like a model with her perfect brunette hair and her perfect designer gown. I wonder why I find myself hating her. Oh well, I have the information to google the mystery man, and I have every intention of doing just that.

  Miller

  I am still talking to her and assuring her that she hadn’t left any evidence at the scene of the crime the night before. (Though I would feel much better had I witnessed the kill shot.)

  A message I have been waiting for comes in and I turn to her in a serious manner and begin to fill her in on details.

  “Well young lady, it appears we have our first official ‘contract to kill’. This isn’t a case of a vigilante kill. The man we are being hired to kill is a very important man. Our boy is quite the ladies’ man. He uses his skills of persuasion to lure women up to his hotel and beat the shit out them, right before he rapes them. It seems the last victim was the daughter of a Russian mobster, unbeknownst to him. You, young lady, are just his type, a blonde haired, blue eyed fox.”

  I grab Stormy’s face and turn it in my direction to signify how important this hit is. “This is a favor to Glazov, and we can’t fuck it up. There are very few people I respect or fear, and Glazov falls under both those categories. If at any time you feel you can’t handle this, I need to know. Fucking this hit up will sign our death warrants.”

  “I can do it,” she said.

  “Alright. Welcome to my world girl, because you are about to embark on your first official contract…”

  Look for part 3 coming soon.

  Prologue: For Glazov

  I listened to my captor as his words hit me right between my eyes.

  "I enjoy taking a woman and doing the kind of dirty and nasty things to her that stain her soul. Can I take you? Can I stain you? Can I hurt you so that you are begging me to push you to the point of no return? Are you willing to go to that extent to save your friend?"

  "Yes, I hurried and agreed knowing that he would snuff her life out with no thought, or regret; for the money that she had stolen from him."

  The day that I agreed was the point of no return!

  This is my story...I warn you, it is NOT a love story.......It IS a Dark Erotic Tale.....

  Glazov is available on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Suzanne-Steele/e/B00C9L6YRQ