Chance Assassin: A Story of Love, Luck, and Murder (34 page)

“Okay, I’ll tell you a story,” he said, rolling over and kissing my forehead.  He was up to something.  I’d have to keep my wits about me.  Frank was a wily fucker when he wanted to get out of story time.

“I was almost sixteen, and Charlie wanted to give me a birthday present.  He asked my father for money so he could take me to Paris and show me a nice time.  He said he’d pull out all the stops, we’d fly to Paris and he’d rent a car to take me all around France.

“I’d never been so excited.  I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of England.  Only Charlie’s description of our trip wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.  It wasn’t even his money, and he was prudent with it.  Instead of taking a cab to the airport, we hitchhiked halfway across England to fucking Dover, because it was cheaper to take a ferry across the channel.  He tried to rationalize this, saying that when my mother emigrated, she would’ve taken this route.  But I knew it was the money.  It’s always about money with Charlie.

“Do you remember when we had to move to the second floor of our hotel because it rained so hard the owners were afraid our room would flood?”

I nodded.  The look on his face when the hotel manager told us was absolute horror.  I’d thought he might faint.  He didn’t sleep the rest of the time we were in that godforsaken town, and we’d been renting rooms on the upper floors ever since, rain or shine.

“That’s how much it was raining in Dover.  It always fucking rained in England.  I didn’t know what the sun looked like until I left that bloody country.  But this was the worst I’d ever seen.

“Charlie had to
drag
me aboard the ferry.  I didn’t even want to see France anymore.  I would’ve stayed in England the rest of my life if it meant not having to get on that boat.  I thought we were going to die.”

How could he put him through that just to save a couple bucks?  “And he still doesn’t know that you don’t like water?” I asked incredulously.  I’d known the man was thick, but this was ridiculous.

Frank shrugged.  “When we finally docked, I was the first to get off.  I would’ve pushed down my own mother to get to land.

“It wasn’t raining on that side of the channel.  It had been, the ground was wet, but not anymore.  And then I looked up, the first time I’d ever seen the sky over France, and it was...breathtaking.  The sky was clearing, still gray but not the corpse color of England, with just enough blue to remind you how good things could be.  I was home.  And that perfect, welcoming sky, was the exact color of your eyes.”

The tears were immediate.  I would’ve blurted out my proposal right then and there, but he’d rendered me speechless. 

He kissed me, first my eyes and then my lips.

“That’s really sweet,” I sniffled. “But you know it wasn’t the story I was looking for.”

Frank swore.

I smacked him hard and sat up with my back to him.  “Asshole!”

He pulled me back down, holding me close.  “I wasn’t making it up, Vincent.  Every word was true.  I just hoped it would be a sufficient distraction.”

“I tell you everything,” I pouted.

“Because you couldn’t keep a secret if you wanted to.”

“That’s what you think,” I said, turning away from him.  Just for that, I’d keep the proposal to myself until I felt like he’d been deceived long enough.

“V,” he said seductively, starting to caress my hair.  “Angel.”

I sucked on my cheeks so I wouldn’t smile while he put his hand in my pants.  It wasn’t fair.  When he wanted something from me he could hold out for days, resuming his status as a prick tease like flipping a switch.  I couldn’t last an hour.

“What is that?” he asked.  I gasped when I realized that he’d noticed the jewelry box in my pocket, and I slid off the bed, curling around my prize on the carpet and not letting go.

“Nothing,” I said, holding firm in my defensive position as he tried tipping me over with his foot.

“What
is
that?” he asked again, kneeling by the bed and pawing at me as his curiosity increased. 

I knew he’d pick me up in a second, lifting me effortlessly off the floor and not letting go until he got what he wanted.  I had no choice.  I aimed for the face, jumping to my feet the second my hand hit flesh, and ran out the front door.

Frank was right on my heels, but he wouldn’t attack in public.  I backed away, the ring safely in my pocket once more.  His lip was bleeding.  He didn’t seem to notice.

“Stay,” I warned, continuing my retreat in the direction of the pool.  I could get another velvet box if need be.  The ring would be fine underwater, no matter how long I had to stay there.

He smiled and stopped.  “Come here, child.  I won’t hurt you.”

“But I’m frightened,
monsieur
,” I said innocently.

Frank had taught me a few choice words of French, due somewhat to begging on my part, but mostly because it got him hot.  The sex would be good tonight.  If I lived that long.

He closed his eyes and groaned.  I was going to win this round.  I usually did when I spoke French to him.  “Give me your keys.  I wanna go for a drive,” I said, moving a little closer and holding out my hand.

“You’re going to hide it in the car,” he said knowingly.  “I
will
find it.”

I nodded.  It was best not to challenge him, but we both knew he’d never find it in the car, and that meant he’d do everything in his power to make sure I didn’t hide it there.

“Come back inside.”

“I love you, Frank,” I said.

Before I could think of my next move, his cell phone rang.  I rushed him, getting my hands on his keys before he’d knocked me down to the pavement.

“Bad timing,” he said to whoever was on the phone, pressing his foot into my chest to keep me from fleeing as he listened.  His face fell.  “What?”

He stepped off of me.  I got to my feet, but didn’t run.

“When did that happen?”  Pause.  “I’m sorry, Charlie.  Do you want me to come?  Of course I can lend you money.”

I put his keys back in his pocket.  He smoothed his hand over my hair and threateningly mouthed
I’ll get you
, then headed toward the parking lot.  “Yes, I’m on my way.”

Frank hung up the phone as he got in his car.  I ran to his side for a quick debriefing, keeping my hands in my pockets in case he wanted to take advantage of the situation.  “Charlie’s sister died.”

“Shit.  I didn’t know he had a sister.”

“He doesn’t. 
Now
.”

“Are you going to the funeral?”

He shook his head.  “I’m surprised he’s even going.  They weren’t close.  But I suppose he thinks there might be something in it for him.”

“Did you know her?”

“I met her once.  The whole family.  Charlie told them I was his son.  They told him to get off their property.”

That wasn’t surprising.  “Are you okay?”

He rubbed his face.  “Yes.  It’s just strange.  She fell down the stairs.  Broke her neck.”

I raised my eyebrows.  Why was that strange?  People fell down the stairs all the time.  That’s why it was such a good excuse for victims of domestic violence.  “Do you think it was a job?”

“I’ll get more information from Charlie,” he said.  I could tell from his expression that the thought had done more than cross his mind.  “Stay in the room until I get back, okay?”

“Of course,” I said, leaning in to kiss him.  “Drive safe.”

“Always do,” he said, and he waited until I was standing in the doorway of our room before driving away.

I tried not to think about Charlie’s sister, but my mind kept going back to the suspicion on Frank’s face, and being ordered indoors.  The news of her death had been enough to quarantine me.  That scared me so much I sat with a loaded gun pointed at the door until he returned.

Frank was gone for the longest hour of my life.  When he came home, he brought lunch.  I nearly had an anxiety attack when I saw that it was from McDonald’s.  I hadn’t been able to concentrate on a suitable hiding place for the ring while I was imagining someone mowing through Charlie’s relatives in an attempt to find him.

He sat down and pulled me onto his lap.  His hands instinctually searched my pockets, but the ring was no longer there.  “Charlie doesn’t think anyone would stand to gain from her death, but he won’t know for sure until he sees the will.  I put a call in to an associate just in case.  He’ll do some research.”

“What do
you
think?”

“I don’t know.  To be honest, I was a bit thrown off by that hit.”

I nestled my head against his shoulder.  “What if they’re connected?”

“That’s highly doubtful, V.  Charlie got a good read off this client.  Besides, the funeral’s in fucking Idaho.  I don’t think the people who live in this town realize Idaho exists.  Do
you
feel anything?”

I shrugged.  I’d never gotten vibes, bad or otherwise, off our hits.  I just got nervous, and recently they’d been so easy I hadn’t felt anything.  But now I was so keyed up that I couldn’t sit still.  “Should we go through with the job?”

“Until we hear otherwise.  If something
is
up, we might be able to find out about it while we watch them.”

“Okay, but it’s my hit until you learn how to swim,” I said, playing tough in the hopes of convincing myself I wasn’t scared.  It seemed to be working, though it could’ve just been the feeling of protecting him.  That always made me feel strong.  “You’re backup.”

He scoffed at me.

“It’s not a big deal, Frank.  I can do the job.”

“You think I’m going to let my boyfriend do
my
job because I can’t handle it?”

“You’re upset, so I’m not gonna take that as an insult,” I said, but smacked him upside the head anyway.  “
Partner
, remember? We take care of each other.”

He turned away broodingly.

“Why didn’t you decline the job, then?  You know you can’t swim!”

“I have never declined a job, Vincent.”

God, he was being such a baby about this.  “Are you having a midlife crisis?”

“You’ll be having an end of life crisis if you say that again,” he threatened.  I kissed his cheek.  I loved that we could fight while I was on his lap.  Hell, we could fight while he was fucking me.  “What was in your pocket?”

I sighed.  He was right, I couldn’t keep a secret.  What was the point of knowing something if you kept it to yourself?  “Just sit there.  And close your eyes,” I said, grabbing the silk scarf he used on me during sexual asphyxiation and wrapping it around his head a couple times.

He held it in place for me while I reached under the dresser where I’d hidden the ring.  My heart was pounding, and I was suddenly close to tears.  This wasn’t exactly the romantic moment I’d wanted, but in all actuality I felt like this would be my last opportunity.  That thought scared me so badly my hands started shaking.  Whatever had happened with Charlie’s sister, whatever might happen with this hit, it had brought darkness over everything.

I took a deep breath and knelt before him.  “Okay, you can look.”

He pulled the scarf off his head, messing up his hair and looking down at me, his eyebrows raised.

I grabbed his hand harder than I’d meant to and used my other hand to pop open the box with my thumb, holding it out to him clumsily.  “
Veux-tu m’épouser
?

Frank let out a sound like I’d hit him in the stomach.

Panic set in immediately, like diving into ice water.  I thought I was going to puke.  “Did I say it right?”

He swallowed, opened his mouth to speak, and closed it to swallow again.

“Say something, Frank,” I pleaded.

“You said it perfectly,” he sighed.

I stayed where I was, frozen on one knee.  Frank wasn’t smiling.  Why wouldn’t he smile?  He was tearing up for fuck’s sakes.  I’d never seen him cry.

He put his hand over mine, the velvet box of doom still open in my other palm.  “Vincent, I—”

I’d expected surprise.  I’d expected speechlessness.  I’d even
considered
tears.  But I’d never imagined he’d say no.  This was the ultimate rejection.  I could feel it looming between us, tearing us apart until there no longer was an us to destroy.  What the fuck was I supposed to do now, return it?

“Say yes or I’ll kill you,” I said, and aimed my gun at his heart to prove it.

Frank took the gun from me and tossed it on the bed.  “It’s more complicated than that.”

“But I
asked
,” I whined.  “In
French
even.”

“You ask for a lot of things.”

“And I always get them.”

He considered that for a moment.  “I want more than anything to give you my name,

Vincen, I do.  But it isn’t mine anymore.  It’s…ruined.

“I can never have legal documents,” he heatedly grabbed his driver’s license, the state matching the current plates on his car, and threw it across the room.  “You deserve better than Mr. fucking Smith.”

“We kill people, Frank.  You think I care about legal documents?  I’m not asking to go to city hall.  I want to be your husband.  I don’t care who knows it.  I don’t even care if we have cake.”

Frank laughed, and the tears nearly got the better of him.  “You always care about cake,” he said, wiping his eyes roughly with the back of his hand, like they’d started a fight he’d be the one to finish.

“You know what I mean,” I said, sitting back on my heels.

“Will you ask me again if I promise to say yes?” he asked.  I shoved the ring on his finger so hard he winced.  “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“Fucking jerk.”

He smiled proudly the way he always did when I caused him pain.  Frank liked when I showed strength.  He liked when I was able to defend myself.

“Who are we hiding from?” I asked.  He wouldn’t dare deny me the answer now, after it had nearly caused him to decline my proposal.

Not when they might have been close to finding us.

“We,” he said, like he’d heard the word for the first time and had officially declared it his favorite. “
We
are hiding from an inheritance.”

I raised my eyebrows.  “An inheritance?”  Someone wanted to give him money and he was acting like a monster was under the bed?  “You’re serious?”