“You’re supposed to start with the outer layer and then move inwards. On another note, you need to hurry up. They need this elevator. It’s a hospital, PC.”
She has a point. I’m wasting time here. If I linger too much longer, I’ll have to carry her most of the way back and that’s going to look weird.
“PC? What does that stand for?” I look at her quizzically as my hands begin pulling her top over her head.
“Maybe I’ll let you know one day. Maybe… I won’t.” Ione lifts her arms up obediently as I pull the top of her scrubs off, revealing a lacy white singlet beneath. The site takes my breath away and I am momentarily distracted. This is all the opportunity she needs to reach into my pocket and pull out the other syringe, which she then jabs in my chest, pressing the plunger down almost instantaneously. I am still holding her top in my hands as she does it. Amateur move that one, Adie. She saw you coming a mile away.
“Fuck.” I’ll have lots more to say on the subject in a minute, but that’s all I can come up with for now.
“Bye-bye, asshole,” she whispers. “It was nice knowing you.”
Leader
“I can’t believe you just did that.” Adie gives me a horrified look, which is rich, considering he just tried to kidnap me. Where does this guy get off?
“Yeah, you seemed like such a nice guy,” I say, unapologetically. “I’m totally not doing the world a favor by ending your life, prick.” Jake is going to kill me when he finds out I’ve just killed Adie. Unfortunately, the temptation was too much to resist. So, I don’t get to sleep with Jake, and Jake doesn’t get to make up with his bestie. We’ll all have to deal with disappointment.
“Is that what PC stands for?” Adie’s brow furrows. I blink.
“Is this what you want to spend your dying breath talking about? I’m just checking. Seeing as how you’ll be in throes of agony soon, I figured you might want to tell me what you want on your epitaph or something.” At least he’s not screaming the walls down and trying to use me as a punchbag. Most people don’t take their imminent demise very well. Maybe I underestimated him.
Adie shrugs. “I’ve got seven minutes or so. We can discuss epitaphs later. So is PC short for prick?”
“No.” It isn’t. It should be, but it isn’t.
“Oh.” He looks a little deflated at that. I have no idea why.
“Can I go… now?” Oh fuck. I was acting before, but that slur is genuine. Jesus, that stuff acts fast.
“You’re just going to leave me here to die on my own?” Adie looks horrified that I should want to leave him, a total stranger and complete psychopath, on his own at the end. As far as weirdos go, he’s up there with Hitler and Marilyn Manson.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I would say it was nice knowing you, but I’d be lying.” Standing up, I wobble, and this is bad because I’m wearing flats. If I’m not lucky, I’m going to be trying to sky dive against a solid marble floor shortly.
“You can’t leave me here to die on my own,” Adie repeats, and the look he gives me would be heartbreaking, if I had a heart, of course. At the moment, he’s staggering forward, clutching his chest, and the elevator doors then open as if by magic, allowing the stumbling buffoon through. I try to move out of the way of the idiot cannonball, but he grabs my hand, and I am somehow swept along with him.
“For God’s sake, let me go,” I hiss.
“Fuck you,” he whispers. “I still have a gun in my back pocket, and I’ve got nothing left to lose now. You’re coming with me until I kick the bucket.”
Oh, this is too much. Have I not suffered enough? This moron is certifiably insane.
Pointedly looking at my watch, I say, “I’ve…” Damnit, that’s the wrong word. Let’s try again. “You’ve got about five minutes of your life left, tops. Would you not rather be doing something more fun? There are some pretty nurses around these parts. I’m sure they’d blow you, if you asked nicely?” My smile is tight. I have things to do, people to see, and sedatives that need to be slept off. I still can’t believe that fucker drugged me. That pretty face could get a girl into trouble. Still, no one will have to worry about that for much longer.
“No, you’re coming with me. Else I’ll go on a shooting spree. I’ll kill you and then everyone else I can get my hands on. You wouldn’t want that on your conscience, would you, Miss Warrington?”
My look is one of disgust.
“Really? Are you really going to pull that card?”
Adie nods. “Really, really.” My hand is still in his, and we’re now stumbling through the reception doors, facing the great outdoors. The cold air breathes a new lease of life into me, but Adie does not look good. He’s panting for breath and I watch as he dry heaves into his other hand. I have a little bit more respect for him now. At least he’s going down fighting. For a minute, I thought he was going to cry like a baby.
“Aren’t you worried about the guy upstairs?” I point my finger heavenward, but it’s an effort. Damn it, I feel like a marionette. Someone has taken over my body and is pulling my strings – in all the wrong fucking directions.
“Why should I be worried? There’s no way I’m going upstairs. If I’m going down, I might as well go out with a bang.”
My face crumples up. It’s a fair point, I guess, but I’d like to think I wouldn’t stoop that low. I’m a heartless, cold-blooded killer who enjoys dominating men on the side, but killing a whole room full of innocents just for the fun of it is a bit much – even for me.
“Fine. What are we…?” I go blank. What was I saying again? Oh yes. “What are we doing in your remaining four minutes?” Phew. I have a feeling I might pass out soon. Adie had better not kill me if I do. I’m going to be really pissed if I wake up dead. If that’s the case, you won’t wake up. Yeah, whatever.
“Is the offer of a blowjob still on the table?” he asks hopefully.
Fuck me. Is this man for real? When he dies, I’m going to be severely tempted to dissect him piece by piece, but I’m not sure I’ll have the energy. When this sedative wears off, I’m pretty sure the resulting hangover is going to be hideous.
“It was never on the table, so it would be impossible for it to be off the table,” I bark.
Adie looks at me in confusion. I decide to put him straight in small words he will understand.
“No fucking way. That’s not ever going to happen. You’re pretty and all that, but I don’t blow men. Period.” That should spell it out to him in no uncertain terms.
Adie looks taken aback. Clearly, he’s never met a woman like me before. While I’d love to show him how I operate, unfortunately, he’s not going to be here for long enough to find out.
“Oh.” He looks crestfallen. I don’t think he’s used to women refusing him. It’s a shame. I think his ego could use a few disappointments here and there. “Well, if that’s the case, we’ll just walk back to my car. I’d rather not die on the pavement, if it’s all the same.”
To each his own. We’re now walking into an underground parking lot that looks reminiscent of a Stalag POW bunker. To say it’s seen better days would be putting it mildly. I’m moving forward mindlessly, without a care in the world, and as we head up three flights of concrete stairs, I begin to wonder what the hell I’m doing.
“Why am I following you?” The question isn’t for Adie. The question is for me. I don’t do things like this. I am always super cautious, reluctant to get into danger unless work requires it, and… sensible. This isn’t… sensible.
“Because I’m hot as fuck and irresistible to women,” Adie is quick to fire back. While he is mostly correct, that isn’t the reason. Generally, I do my best to avoid attractive men. They create complications in my life. My life is complicated enough. When I pick a man, I go for intelligence, quick wit, and obedience. Adie might have got one of those, but he sure as hell hasn’t got the other two.
By now, walking is nearly impossible for me. My feet feel as if they are walking through a rive
r of sweet molasses. My co-ordination is shot, and there’s no way I’m getting out of this carpark. In a few minutes’ time, I won’t even be able to crawl. Scrap that. Stumbling to my knees, I place my arms out to brace myself, coming up hard on the dirty, black tarmac. After scrabbling around for a few seconds, it becomes clear that I’m not going to be able to get back to my feet by myself.
“Here, let me help you.” Adie puts his hands under my shoulders and hoists me upright. My head is spinning. Occasionally a lucid thought pops into my head, but mostly there’s fluff and rubbish floating around.
“Why… why haven’t you… killed me yet?” There it is. That lucid thought. You’d have figured he would have wanted to get his own back. That is a very sensible question. Why the hell didn’t I think of it before?
Adie is quick enough to reply.
“I’ve done enough shitty things in my life. I don’t see the need to add that last one to the list. Besides, you’re far too beautiful to die, Ione.” I can’t help a smile at that. Still a flatterer, right to the end. The man deserves a medal.
Adie is now supporting my weight on his shoulder, and he is virtually dragging me to his car. If he’s not careful, he’s going to half his remaining couple of minutes. He shouldn’t be exerting himself.
“You need to leave me here and get to your car, else you won’t make it,” I slur. My eyelids are dragging towards the floor. I’ve got seconds until I collapse, and Adie can’t be far behind me.
“I will. I’m very stubborn,” Adie replies, urging me forward with his hand wrapped around my waist. The contact is electric. Even though I’m drugged up to the eyeballs, this might be the first man who has ever been able to send butterflies winging through me. Huh. That’s too bad.
Eventually, we get to the car. Adie is panting hard, and I’m a ball of jelly. Somehow, he manages to open the door and help me inside the passenger seat, and even more interestingly, I let him.
“You’re going to smell when I wake up,” I complain. This isn’t very nice of me, considering I was the one that killed the poor bastard, but I have no filter right now. Whatever pops into my head comes straight back out of my mouth. It’s a bit like being drunk, but without the fun of drinking three bottles of wine and going to the loo constantly.
Adie gets in the car next and fastens my seatbelt gently. I think this is ridiculous, since we aren’t going anywhere, but I have no strength or energy to stop him.
Looking down at my watch sleepily, I realise ten minutes have passed since I injected him. He’s doing awfully well, so I tell him so.
“Doing… well. Should have been dead three minutes ago,” I slur. I can’t even say complete sentences now. I am fucked.
“Yes, well,” says Adie, as he inserts his key into the ignition, “there’s a reason for that.”
Warning bells start sounding as the engine rumbles into life. If the man is about to die in a few minutes, I hardly want to be behind the wheel with him. I knew this was a bad idea.
“And what… is… that reason?” I finally manage to get out. I can only just about keep my eyes open as the car rumbles into life and we start moving. My body quickly tries to fill itself with panic and adrenalin, but nothing happens. All my circuits are fried.
“You didn’t inject me with poison.” Adie sounds smug. This is not good. I should be sprinting for my life about now, but that’s not going to happen. While I should be grateful I’m not about to be killed at the wheel, I have a feeling I’m not going to be overly happy when I wake up.
“What did I stab… you… with?” My words are all over the place. I could be three years old. Fuck you, Adie. Maybe you have two out of the three qualities I adore in men, after all.
“Same thing you were stabbed with. I always carry a spare vial, just in case I miss. Thankfully I’m a minute or two behind where you are now.”
“Not.” Not what? Not something? God, stay awake, Leader. For once, you are in deep shit and it’s going to get a lot worse from here on in. Ah. I found the word. “Reassuring.” I feel proud of myself. That was quite an achievement.
“Let’s hope I live nearby, huh?” Adie pats my thigh, and then squeezes it. The little fucker. I want to snap his hand off, but my body feels so heavy, raising my arm would feel like lifting a ten-ton weight at the minute.
“You’re…” I want to say ‘smarter than I gave you credit for,’ but I can’t get the words out. It’s probably just as well. The man is an arrogant ass and the last thing I should be doing is praising him for his misdeeds.
“Hot, sexy, and totally fucking awesome?”
That’s the last sentence I remember hearing before crashing out cold. I do remember wishing I could punch his lights out, though.
Adie
Misdirection is the name of this game. It’s a great tool in any operative’s handbook, and it has come in handy on numerous occasions. Every available item you have needs to be a weapon, and what’s more, you need to know how to use it effectively.
There was no gun in the back of my pants because I didn’t want to take the risk of being stopped by security and searched. If I’m found with a firearm, I’m immediately arrested and shoved inside a cell. It’s illegal to carry firearms anywhere in the UK. Generally, if I’m out and about, I don’t worry too much, but if I’m somewhere I’m likely to meet security or get arrested – I err on the side of caution. I don’t need a gun to kill someone. I can do that in any number of ways, most of which are a damn site quieter.
Grabbing the almost full cup of cold coffee that sits in its holder by the radio, I chug the lot back and grimace. I’m going to need more than caffeine, though, if I want to ride through this barbiturate haze. Reaching down to rifle through my other pocket, the side that counteracts the ‘go sleepy bye-bye’ pocket, I find a vial of adrenaline. Perfect. What a great combo. I’m not going to like this much, but I need to do it, if I want to get my captive home and chained up before I try to pass out.
Injecting yourself whilst driving is not to be recommended. I peel the cap of the syringe off in my mouth and spit it at the windscreen, before jamming the bastard in my leg. I’m going to regret this later. Uppers and downers do not mix. Still, it can’t be helped.
I am going to have to use my London apartment. There’s no way I’ll get to Windsor. Not without taking out half a lane of traffic, anyway. I’ll just have to hope and pray Mrs. Yarrow is asleep. If she isn’t, I have no idea how I’m going to explain why I have an unconscious woman draped over my back. This also presents another problem. I can’t have Ione screaming with the old dear next door. I will have to move her at some point. Damn it. This complicates things. Oh well.
Pulling into my parking lot, twenty minutes later, I feel dead to the world and strung out and jittery, all at the same time. I want to sleep forever, but I’ll never be able to. This is actually a genuine torture method. You shoot people up with amphetamines and then give them barbiturates. Your victim will remain in a limbo land of nightmares, neither awake nor asleep, until the drugs work their way out of his/her system. It’s called ‘The Twilight Zone’ in my business because it locks you down in no-man's-land until your abductor has the information he wants. You feel like you’re living in VR. Take my word for it. I’ve tried it. I like to experience these things for myself. I’m weird like that.
Pulling up in my parking lot, it takes all the strength I have to hoist Ione up over my shoulders. Meanwhile, I’m praying that Mrs. Yarrow is taking her afternoon nap and won’t hear a thing as I creep by. I could do without any added complications today. I feel like shit, and I need to get all the crap in my system out ASAP, and then have a good lie down.
Thankfully, my apartment block does not have a concierge desk because that would be another hurdle I have no energy to handle. We just have a key and a code, and off we go. Struggling up the stone steps as quietly as I can, I don’t stop moving until I’ve reached the third floor. At least that’s got my heart rate pumping. When I push open the door at the top of the
staircase, I take a nose around to make sure no one’s in the hallway. Thankfully, there’s no one around. Nearly everyone will be a work bar my favorite elderly resident.
Creeping forward, now that the coast is clear, I swear I look like something out of a Pink Panther movie. This is ridiculous. Speed is probably the better option. Walking as fast as I can up to my door, I insert the key in the lock and twist, pushing the door inwards at the same time. Stepping inside, I’m just about to close the door behind me, when I hear a snooty voice.
“Adrien.” Oh, shit, shit, shit. Not now. Dropping Ione on the floor as if she’s suddenly made of molten metal, I poke my head around the door. What, exactly, has the old lady seen?
“Yes, Mrs. Yarrow?” I smile brightly. I am so fucked right now. If she takes a good look at me, she’ll realise I’m drugged up to my eyeballs. Let’s hope her eyesight isn’t what it used to be.
“Would it be possible for you to empty my bin, dear? My brother usually does it, but he’s got a touch of the flu.” She looks at me expectantly. I stand there silently for a minute, wondering if she’s going to say anything about the woman I had slumped over my shoulders, but a few seconds pass by and there’s nothing. Surely I’m not going to get off that easily.
“Well, would you mind dear?” Mrs. Yarrow is looking at me strangely now, and I realise that I need to respond.
“Absolutely,” I reply. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be right there. I’ve just worked an all-nighter and I am nearly dead on my feet,” I say, lying my head off. Honest to God, more lies come out of my mouth these days than truths. I’m so used to lying, it almost feels like telling the truth, too. Scary.
“Okay, dear. Thank you. What was it you do again?” Mrs. Yarrow blinks at me.
I kidnap or kill people for a living, steal things, and do a little industrial espionage on the side.
“I’m an accountant, Mrs. Yarrow.” This is the fourth time she’s asked me that question.
Deadly Retaliation: A Dark Bully Harem Romance (A Twisted, Dark and Deadly Romance Book 1) Page 19
