Young Love Murder Part 5

And they do it. Only a few feet past them, one of them calls out, "Hey s.e.xy, why don't you come back and hang out with us?"

I grin evilly before turning around, my face now expressing innocence and a hint of fear, bait for the predators. Who's afraid of the big bad hoodlum? "No thank you," I answer shakily then continue walking. One, two, three. Someone grabs me from behind.

The grabber whispers in my ear, "I think you should change your mind."

Pretending to struggle, my voice conveys suitable panic, "And I think you should let me go." The thrill of giving jacka.s.ses what they deserve never gets old.

"Fine, we'll do this the hard way," he says and drags me into an alley, with the rest of the guys following, my fear exciting them.

I'm still pretending to struggle pathetically when Jackson arrives at the entrance of the alley. Making a tsking sound, he warns them, "Unless you all want to get your a.s.ses kicked, I suggest you let the girl go."

"f.u.c.k off before we beat the s.h.i.t out of you!" one of them yells at Jackson.

"You asked for it." Jackson shrugs negligently, playing his part.

"I agree," I say, causing the guy holding me to squeeze tighter.

Jackson brings both of his hands up in the air and lifts on leg, doing the famous The Karate Kid pose to make me laugh. His favorite movie when he was little. The thugs start laughing too and the one holding me yells, "p.i.s.s off, punk!"

"Quit playing around Jackson, this guy smells bad," I joke. This is so much fun.

"Ready when you are," he says.

"Okay, but play fair this time. No cheating," I warn him. "Now!"

The thugs look confused until I do a back head b.u.t.t on the guy holding me. He stumbles back, screaming, "You b.i.t.c.h!" Uh-huh, I've heard that before, in many languages.

I spin around and hit him on the nose with the heel of my hand. Then I kick him hard enough in the gut for him to fall back against the wall of the building. I walk over to where he's slouched over in a daze and grab him by his greasy hair. Kneeing him in the face, he's down for the count.

"I've got one down!" I shout out to Jackson, wiping my hand on the material of my jeans. So gross!

"No fair! The other four are all coming at me!" Jackson shouts back. Then he says in a mock-distressed voice, "I'm scared!" The bad guys always see Jackson as more of a threat than me. Big mistake.

I take a few moments to watch my brother work. Focused, he kicks one, while backhanding another. It makes a little sister proud. Every time he gets one on the ground, another one is coming at him.

"I want to be just like you when I grow up!" I yell at Jackson, laughter in my voice.

He laughs in a short burst, starting to get tired. "How about being like me right now?"

Sighing loudly, I act put out. "Oh, all right, if you really need me to save you."

"Watch this!" I shout and grab a big guy around the neck from behind, in a chokehold. I'm using my other arm to twist one of his arms behind his back. Unfortunately, that leaves his other hand free to claw at the one I'm using to choke him out. I twist his arm more, almost to the point of breaking it. When he finally pa.s.ses out from lack of oxygen less than a minute later, I let his body drop to the ground. What a weakling. Simon taught Jackson and me to hold our breath for up to two minutes. Of course, I didn't give the guy enough warning to take a deep breath. Something to try in the future . . . .

I look to where Jackson is and see another body lying on the ground. "That's two for me and one for you."

"Not for long." He punches one of the guys on the side of his head. The guy lands on the ground with a loud thud. Panting, he gets out, "Now we're tied!"

Jackson and I are both breathing hard, after the workout. We look at the last guy, who just stares back at us, looking like he's about to p.i.s.s his pants. "Boo!" Jackson yells, pretending to lunge for him, causing the guy to turn quickly into the side of the building. The idiot runs face first into a protruding pipe and knocks himself out. Dumba.s.s.

"That's three for me! I win!" Jackson shouts, holding his arms up in the air.

"No way Jacks! That doesn't count! You didn't even touch him!" I yell, stomping my foot, clenching my fists instinctively. Hey, if that's three for Jackson and two for me, I'm more than willing to knock Jackson's a.s.s out to even the score.

Jackson saunters over and chucks me under the chin. "Don't be a poor sport, Annie." I notice that his white t-shirt is torn at the neck.

"No matter what you say it's a tie." I stalk out of the alley, feeling him close behind. That so doesn't count. "The guy knocked himself out! It only counts if you do it yourself!"

Jackson's walking beside me now as we head back to where we parked a few blocks away. "Yeah, but I made him knock himself out. Good enough for me."

"It's a tie!"

"Fine, we'll call it a tie," Jackson says carefully.

"Okay," I say, mollified.

Then he has to go and ruin it with, "But, we both know that I really won."

"Jackson!" I yell at my laughing brother, noticing that the shoelaces on his boots are untied. Who goes into a fight without tying his d.a.m.n shoes? Probably saw it as a challenge.

We walk the final block back to the car in silence, pa.s.sing by another group of thugs, but they don't mess with us. I sort of wish they would. I could use a way to let out some of the anger and annoyance that I'm feeling right now because of my cheating brother.

When we get back into the Lamborghini, miraculously still intact, I put the radio on a heavy metal station and turn it up loud. On the drive back to the hotel, whenever I glance at Jackson, he has a smug smile on his face. Knock him out, Annabelle, and that's three for you too.

When we get off the elevator onto the floor our suite is on, I'm b.i.t.c.hing Jackson out again. "You're such a cheater! I'm never going out with you again!" Jackson rolls his eyes, knowing full well that I can never resist a little exercise.

We round the corner of the hotel hallway and a male voice says angrily, "You shouldn't be going out with anyone else anyways."

Leaning against the door to my hotel room is Gabriel. Oh s.h.i.t! I quickly turn to Jackson and tell him in Russian, "Just play along and pretend that you don't speak English."

Jackson mutters the Russian equivalent of 'busted' under his breath.

"Who, the f.u.c.k, is he? And what are you doing with him?" Gabriel looks p.i.s.sed, green eyes flashing, ready to spring forward and wring Jackson's neck. Or mine.

"Oh, he's just my friend. You remember. You saw us together at the club?" I remind him. This is a really weird situation.

"What's this about him cheating on you? It looks more like you're the one cheating on me, Anna," Gabriel says heatedly. Jeez, even his scowl makes him look handsome, with his face all tense like that.

Stop letting your mind wander, Annabelle. "What are you talking about?" I take on a casual stance, as if totally unconcerned by the confrontation, not guilty of any wrong-doing. Besides the vigilante justice I just dished out with my brother.

Gabriel says through clenched teeth, "I just heard you tell him that he cheated and that you don't want to go out with him again."

Laughing, I shake my head. "That's what I said, but you misinterpreted it."

"How so?" he raises one eyebrow in disbelief.

"We just went to a billiards hall and played pool. I think he cheats and I was telling him that I don't want to go out with him to play pool again," I explain nonchalantly.

Gabriel looks at me skeptically and then looks at Jackson. "Is that true?"

Jackson responds in Russian, "She is calling me a cheater because she does not want to admit that I won."

I have to fight the urge to elbow Jackson in the stomach. "He doesn't speak English, Gabriel."

"What did he just say?" Gabriel asks. His green eyes are now narrowed.

"Basically, that he doesn't speak English and he asked you if you speak Russian."

Gabriel scowls again. "But you were just yelling at him in English."

I sigh patiently, attempting to placate him, "Gabriel, I'm a girl. I can yell at a guy in any language and he probably still won't understand or admit to what he did wrong."

"You swear that you two are just friends?" He's starting to believe me, I can tell by the tension leaving his face.

"I swear that there's no way in h.e.l.l that I would ever have a romantic relationship with him." Technically, I'm not lying. I just answered his question creatively. Gabriel asked if Jackson and I were just friends. We're more than friends, we're siblings. Of course I don't want a romantic relationship with my brother. Gross! I try to lie to Gabriel as little as possible because sometimes it makes me feel kind of guilty. Not wanting a romantic relationship with my brother is me telling the truth. Stupid, but it makes me feel better, every little truth I can give him.

"Okay, I believe you," he says with a relieved smile.

I walk up to him and give him a peck on the cheek, shaking off the urge to wince. "Thank you for trusting me."

"How about we go to my house and spend a little alone time together?" Gabriel suggests, while running the tips of his fingers along the thin bit of skin revealed on my stomach, between my tank top and jeans. I hear a strangled choking sound behind me from Jackson. We better get out of here before Gabriel says anything else in front of my brother, who supposedly only understands Russian.

"I just need to take a shower first," I tell him, then to Jackson in Russian, "Pretend that you're leaving and come back to the room in thirty minutes."

Jackson gets in one last, "I won," in Russian before sauntering around the corner and out of sight.

He just couldn't let it go. I'll get him back somehow. As we walk into the suite, Gabriel asks, "So, did you live in Russia for a while with your family?"

"Um, yes, I've spent some time there," I reply vaguely. Not a lie.

"You have something on your shirt," Gabriel says, looking puzzled while pointing at my chest.

Looking down to see a splatter of blood, I rush to come up with some lie. "Oh c.r.a.p! I ate French fries earlier. I must have gotten ketchup on myself. I'll just go shower and change." I'm in and out of the shower in five minutes because we need to be out of here before Jackson comes back. I'm all sweaty from fighting and I'm sure Jackson is dying get back into the room to shower too. I change into shorts and a fitted t-shirt, choosing to dress similarly to Gabriel's t-shirt and jeans. Pulling on ankle socks and a pair of Sketchers, I discreetly hurry Gabriel out of the suite.

Ten minutes later, on the way to Gabriel's house I turn in my seat to look at him. "So, what do you want to do?"

He squeezes my hand. "Make out while pretending to watch a movie."

"Oh yeah? Which movie?" I ask, liking the idea of kissing and cuddling in the dark.

"I was thinking Kill Bill," he suggests.

"Sounds good." Although, I've never heard of that movie, I try not to let him know how little I know about pop culture. The only times I ever watch movies is with Jackson and that doesn't happen much anymore. I wonder what the movie is about. The t.i.tle is catchy. I think I killed someone named Bill once.

Chapter 8.

Gabriel We sit on the couch in my room, watching the movie and munching on popcorn. Anna is so cute, laughing hysterically at the fight scenes and commenting throughout the entire movie. She criticizes the mistakes that the a.s.sa.s.sins make while fighting and laughs at the ridiculous ways the people die. She even has an opinion on how she would have done this or that in the movie. She gets really quiet at the part where Uma Thurman's character gives up being an a.s.sa.s.sin because she's pregnant. Even though it's late, as soon as it's over, she insists that we watch Kill Bill: Vol. 2.

When the movies are over, I do a fake pout. "You've ignored me all night."

She looks worried for a minute until she realizes that I'm just kidding and rolls her eyes. "Poor baby! Next time we'll watch p.o.r.n so you can get a turn ignoring me."

Pushing her down onto her back on the couch, I say, "If we watched p.o.r.n, the last thing I'd do is ignore you."

She yawns theatrically. "I'm kind of tired. Will you take me home?"

I shake my head, grinning down at her. "Nope. You owe me some attention. Plus, you should just stay the night. My mom won't care and since your parents never even check up on you, I don't think they'll care either."

She looks uncertain. "I don't know, Gabriel."

I attempt to rea.s.sure her, "We don't have to have s.e.x. I can just hold you."

It works, she smiles wickedly. "Or we can do something in between."

That's all I need to hear. Lowering my mouth to hers, I lick her soft lips before kissing her hungrily. Running my hands through her long wavy hair, I love feeling its silky texture. "You're so beautiful, Anna."

She strokes my cheek, saying quietly, "So are you."

I laugh and run playful kisses down her neck to her collarbone. At the same time, I inch the bottom of her shirt up to stroke the stomach that's been peeking out at me all night. My Anna oozes s.e.x appeal, but that doesn't mean that she's easy, so I'm being patient when it comes to s.e.x. I'd ask how many guys she's been with, but I think I'm better off not knowing. Even hearing about one guy would upset me.

"Can I take off your shirt, Anna?" Wrapping my hands around her waist, I'm feeling tortured.

"Yes please," she says eagerly, making me laugh. I help her out of it and her weight falls back down onto the couch. Pulling back, I take in the image of her wearing just her black lace bra and shorts. I lean back down to wrap her arms and legs around me, then carry her to my bed. Placing her down gently, I begin kissing her again. Leaving one hand on her cheek, I reach down to run the other hand up her thigh, no weapons strapped this time. I caress up over her hip and stomach to rest my hand over one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

She lightly moans and I rub her nipple through her bra. Fascinated by her response, I ask, "You like?"

"Very much," she answers, gasping. Her hands creep under my shirt and rub up my back. I unclasp the front of her bra. Unexpectedly, I hear the song "a.s.sa.s.sin" by Muse playing.

"What's that?" Instantly, I regret bringing it to her attention.

"Hmm. What? Oh c.r.a.p! That's my phone." She skillfully flips me onto my back and jumps off the bed. What the heck? Fastening the clasp on her bra as she leaves me, disappointing me in the process, she grabs her phone from her bag. The phone has already stopped ringing, but she looks down at it. She pushes a b.u.t.ton, I'm a.s.suming to call the person back.

She glances at me, then away. "What's up?" Silence. "You called for that? Shouldn't you be asleep?" Silence. "No. Shut up." Pause, Anna blushes. "I'm coming back to the hotel now." She listens to the person on the other end. "Okay, bye."

She hangs up and walks back to the bed. I'm curious enough to ask, "Who was that?"