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As he fights back the tears watering his eyes, I stroke his face in a soothing gesture. "Everything is going to be fine, Gabriel."
"It's my aunt," he says hoa.r.s.ely. Immediately, I know what he's referring to.
That makes me start to cry too. After everything he's been through, to add this on top of it? "I'll kill her."
He shakes his head and makes a noise that might be a laugh. "Simon says he'll take care of it."
"Simon? You talked to Simon?" d.a.m.n, a person misses a lot while involuntarily sedated.
His lips quirk into a small smile. "Yeah, and I think he sort of gave me his blessing."
I pretend mock indignation. "Don't go thinking that I'll ever make it easy for you, Gabriel."
"Oh, I know. But I wouldn't want you any other way." His salacious grin hints at how much he's looking forward to it. His expression turns serious and I wonder if he's thinking about his aunt again. "But why me, Annabelle? Why do you love me?"
I sigh at the question I've asked myself frequently over the years. With a quick peck to his lips, I tell him, "Because, in you, I found my heart." I shake my head ruefully. "It may have taken awhile to get past the obstacles, but you're my match, the other half of my soul. Someone who has what it takes to be my partner in life, but isn't already disillusioned by this lifestyle."
Grinning like my answer just made his day, eyes shining with happiness, Gabriel asks me, "Aren't you going to ask me why I love you?"
Holding back a smile, I answer, "Nope, I already know why you love me."
He raises his eyebrows at that. "Oh yeah? Why?"
"Because I'm awesome." At my answer, he picks me up and tosses me on the bed. Laughing, he follows me down.
Before he can occupy my lips again, I need to tell him something. "Thank you for coming to save me, Gabriel."
Those green eyes catch mine in their mesmerizing hold. "You saved me too, Annabelle. It's you and me forever now."
"Forever, Gabriel."
Simon.
Three days later.
Getting into the building late in the evening was simple enough. The busted lock on the back stairway exit won't be discovered until tomorrow. On the sixth floor, taking out the two guards posted outside the office door gives me open access to the room past them. Now I'm standing here, pointing a gun at the threat. She looks respectable and harmless in her designer business suit. A beautiful woman at the age of forty-three, Lucy Garcia sneers at me and the weapon in my hand. "You'll die for this."
"No, you will," I calmly inform her before pulling the trigger. The first bullet enters her chest and the second enters her head with a spray of blood on the window behind her. Her body jerks back in the chair before slumping forward against the glossy black desk. Lucy Garcia, aunt of Gabriel Sanchez, is no longer a threat.
The original contract on Xavier Sanchez was traced back to her as well. It seems she meant to slowly eliminate the Sanchez family until herself and her son inherited the fortune and businesses, both legal and illegal. It can be a.s.sumed that the death of Gabriel's mother can also be blamed on Lucy. Having her killed and making it look like a suicide wouldn't have been hard with Eva Sanchez's mental state at the time. I've done something similar in the past.
Walking out of the building, into the warm Miami night, I pull off the ski mask and gloves. My family is safe once again. Or, at least as safe as we ever are. The choices I make are never easy, but I've never regretted raising Annabelle and Jackson myself. Since the day each of them was born, I've loved my G.o.dchildren.
The threat of Lucy Garcia was nothing compared to the enemies still out there. I've prepared them to the best of my ability for what's to come. I'm counting on them to not only protect themselves, but others as well. The occurrences of the past three years have put us on the radar of enemies from long ago. Max Garcia unwittingly fed the secrets Gabriel had confided in him to one of those enemies, Lucy Garcia. That enemy in turn leaked the information to others.
We may not have complete anonymity anymore, but we'll hide from anyone who means to harm or use us. And we'll survive.
Epilogue.
Toronto, Canada - February.
Dancing with her, I run my hands down her back. At the feel of her trembling, a predatory smile forms on my lips. I have her now. When she gets up on her toes and begins to kiss my neck, I lean down and suggest that she meet me in the parking lot in five minutes. She eagerly agrees, her eyes expressing l.u.s.t. But, she's a predator too, and I also see that in her eyes.
A quick phone call and a few minutes later, I discreetly follow her out of the club, slipping on a pair of leather gloves as I go. Winter in Toronto is brutal. I breathe in the cold air, missing warmer climates. When I reach her, standing under a streetlamp in her red wool coat, she gives me a knowing look. "How about we go to my place?"
Nonchalantly, I ask, "Where's your car?"
She gestures to a white luxury sedan parked two s.p.a.ces down. "I'll drive."
As she unlocks the car with the press of a b.u.t.ton, instead of sliding into the pa.s.senger seat, I slide into the back. The syringe is at her neck before she can even shut her door. With the slightest pressure on the plunger, I push the drugs into her system. This isn't a slow-acting poison, this is instantaneous and more merciful than someone like her deserves. She thought she'd get away with murder. She was wrong.
Stepping out of the vehicle, I walk down the block to the waiting SUV. This time, I get in on the front pa.s.senger side. "It's done."
"You look good as a blonde, Gabriel," Annabelle teases, reaching out to tug on a lock of my hair.
I give her an amused smile. "So do you."
She laughs playfully and leans over to kiss me. Taking advantage, I pull her closer. "Love you." I like the thin material of her black dress. Both the blast from the car heater and her body warm me.
Wrapping her arms around my neck, with a satisfied look on her face she smiles. "I love you too. But Gabriel-"
"I know, I know," I cut her off, faking exasperation. "You get to do the next job."
Laughing again, she kisses my nose then straightens herself out in her seat. She grips the wheel, putting the car into drive. "That's not what I was going to say." Glancing at me sideways, she pulls slowly away from the curb. "I was just going to tell you that watching you dance with that woman has me feeling possessive. I don't know if I can wait until we get to the cabin to rea.s.sert my claim on you."
Holding out my hands in mock surrender, I say seriously, "Rea.s.sert away. I won't even charge you this time."
"Whatever." She rolls her brown eyes, handing me her phone. "Check in with Simon." She runs a hand up my thigh, her eyes are gleaming. "Tell him the contract is completed, but that we're going to be on vacation for the next week or two."
Raising one eyebrow, I throw her a skeptical look. "Only a week or two?"
She lets out a dramatic sigh. "You're right. Better make it a month or two."
"That's my girl," I murmur approvingly while dialing Simon.
After getting off with Simon, as Annabelle drives us out of downtown Ontario, my thoughts roam back to what happened six months ago. Max took his mom's murder hard, but he can never know the truth. Finding out that my dad was a monster was horrible and I wanted to shield him from that particular pain.
I've learned that there are two kinds of monsters. The bad ones, like my father and Aunt Lucy, and the good ones, like us. Sometimes, the good ones succeed in taking out the bad ones. Sometimes the good ones get killed, like Annabelle's parents. I've fallen into this life so easily, that it's almost as if Annabelle and I were made for each other. I've sold off all of my dad's businesses, so with our money combined, we're set for life. What we do now is by choice, something to be proud of. Though, we do like our vacations.
Next month we're spending spring break with Max in Mexico and I'm hoping he'll be doing better by then. At least school and life in New York serve as a distraction for him. I know they kept me going when I thought Annabelle was dead. Hopefully he'll meet some nice girl and settle down in the kind of life he wants.
Watching her fiddle with the radio, I wonder what my life would have been like had she never come into it. No, I don't even want to think about it. Even with all the money in the world, it would have been dull. The type of woman I would have ended up with would have been dull. I'm not psychic, but I can see our future, and I like it.
Jackson.
The room is dark, matching my thoughts. Boredom, apathy, dissatisfaction. Feelings I've grown all too familiar with. Another job just completed tonight and now I'm lying in the dark in this hotel room, with another naked woman next to me. Unforgettable and eventually nameless like all the rest. The feeling that there's something I'm missing, something I need to find, is nagging me again. If only I knew what that something is. Barely twenty-three years old is too young to be having a mid-life crisis. Is there such a thing as a mid-twenties crisis?
The job I completed tonight was another drug dealer. Drugs make my world go round, considering all the business I get by killing its producers. h.e.l.l, I watched the woman lying next to me tonight snort a line before we f.u.c.ked. The restless feeling is returning again with a vengeance. Like I need to open up the window and scream out into the cold Amsterdam night. Disgusted with myself and my life, I slide off the bed and start fumbling in the dark for my clothes.
When my phone rings, the woman stirs, and I think about how I better be gone before she wakes. That hopeful look on their faces the next morning always annoys me. As if I'm supposed to realize that they're the one I've been waiting for. Guilt is another feeling I try to avoid with all the rest. I hate when they look to me like I'm the answer to their messed up lives. I've got my own life to worry about.
And I will never be stupid enough to fall in love. Just look at the h.e.l.l my sister went through. The fact that she and Gabriel were able to work things out is a fluke of fate. They put each other through h.e.l.l before finding happiness. I can't ever see myself loving someone the way they do each other. The obsessiveness of it almost seems unhealthy.
"I'm here," I answer before it goes to voicemail.
Simon gets right to the point, "Jackson, I have another job for you . . . ."
Book two of the Young a.s.sa.s.sins series coming Winter 2011/2012.
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