Young Love Murder Page 5

  The spark is still there and, as the kiss deepens, it feels like the whole world is disappearing around us. Fastening my arms around his waist, I forget this is a job. I forget that his father is the target. I kiss him back as passionately as he’s kissing me. A part of me is alarmed because it feels better than it should, better than it has before. He lowers me onto the sand in a practiced move and begins to kiss a slow path down my neck, making me moan softly. One of his hands is still tangled in my hair while the other has forged a flaming path along one side of my body ending on my thigh, gripping it, branding it with his touch. Lying on the cool sand, his heat feels more intense as my own hands grip his back through his thin shirt, pressing him closer to me. I want more, need more of him.

  He pulls his head back slightly, not putting much space between us, but enough that I’m again looking into his mesmerizing eyes, eyes that gleam with possession. “You’re mine, Anna.” He’s not smiling smugly as I would have thought, and the sincerity of his words is evident.

  His bold statement snaps me out of my stupor. Shaken, I quickly scramble up and start backing away. “I’ll never belong to anyone,” I say like a spaz and whirl around to jog away like a coward. God, I hope Jackson wasn’t watching that pathetic spectacle from the balcony. Passing the spot where I left my shoes, I grab them. Clumsily, I put them back on, not bothering to brush off the sand on my soles, and rush into the hotel.

  Not once do I stop to look back at Gabriel, half-afraid of what I might see and strangely half-afraid of what I might not see. These feelings make no god damn sense to me! Once I’m alone in the privacy of the elevator, I lean against the wall and take a deep, calming breath. See, that anomaly was nothing to worry about, Annabelle, just a surge of teenage hormones trying to get the better of you. Looking at myself in the mirrored elevator wall, I smooth down my mussed hair. Don’t want to give Jackson anything to make fun of.

  A contrary part of my brain makes me question if what just happened out there was just teenage hormones. That was the most unsettling moment ever in my career thus far. I’ve kissed lots of guys and I’ve never experienced anything like that. The word ‘love’ flashes through my mind and I give my head a shake. Love is for fools. Gabriel isn’t any more interested in love than I am. Lust would be a more appropriate description of what happened down on that beach. Careful, Annabelle, or you’re going to sabotage your own assignment. Getting emotionally involved leads to problems, both Marie and Simon taught me that.

  Getting access to Xavier Sanchez’s home would have been easier through Gabriel, but I obviously can’t trust myself around him. As I get off the elevator, I decide that I’ll just have to use Max to get to Xavier. Gabriel isn’t an option anymore. The less time I spend with him the better. After all, I will be killing his father.

  Gabriel

  She felt it too. I’ve never felt anything near as powerful as that with any other girl. Wonder what the sex will be like. The words ‘on fire’ come to mind. Usually, when I’m kissing a girl I’m thinking about moving on to the sex. With Anna, I could have just kept kissing her forever. Jesus Christ! I sound like Max, all hung up on some girl. Next I’ll be reading poetry and watching chick flicks. Not that Max does either, but still.

  Whatever! All I know is that Anna can run away all she wants, but she can’t deny that there’s something between us, something hot and worth exploring. Deciding to give her a short reprieve, because the girl was all worked up, I get into my car and drive home. When I get there Max is waiting for me in the formal living room. Big surprise, he’s at my house more than his own. Plus, he plans on shooting me in my sleep. Uh-huh, sure.

  In jeans and a t-shirt Max looks out of place in the posh, airy space. With ivory leather sofas, plush sand-colored rugs and crystal tumblers with candles or fresh cut orchids floating, this room always makes me feel like I’m going to break or stain something. The cashmere curtains are swinging with the breeze from the open French patio doors, which makes the room a little less stifling. My mom could be an interior designer if she wanted to, though I refuse to let her redecorate my bedroom. The thought of sailboat wallpaper makes me shudder.

  “Leave her alone,” Max says heatedly before I can even get out a hello.

  Okay, so that’s how this is going to play out. Pretending to think it over, I slowly say, “No, I don’t think I will.”

  “You can have any girl you want. Let me have this one,” he says. Please, like he ever suffers in the girl department.

  “Well, this is the only one I want. I think I’ll even keep her for a month or two,” I say airily, meaning it and more.

  Not giving up, he takes another tactic. “I really like her.”

  “You like all of them,” I scoff, unwilling to take him seriously.

  “She’s different.” His eyes are showing that maybe she is different for him.

  “I’ve heard that before.” I’m actually starting to feel a little bad about it, but I’d feel bad for me too, if I gave her up. Which Max will be the one to do.

  My mom walks into the room, obviously just coming in from the pool in her sarong, with her blonde hair wet. Unaware of the hostility in the atmosphere, she asks, “Max, are you staying for dinner?”

  “No,” Max replies and leaves the room abruptly. The squeak of his shoes on the marble entryway precedes his slamming of the front door behind him. Max and I haven’t thrown down in a while, but with my mom showing up it wasn’t an option. It upsets her to see us fight.

  “What was that about?” my mom asks in bewilderment.

  I make a sympathetic face, with a matching tone. “He just got dumped, poor guy.”

  She looks worried. “Maybe I should call your aunt. Who was the girl?”

  Waving my hand in a dismissive gesture, I tell her, “Some teen harlot. The school’s rife with them.” Then deciding to change the subject to her favorite one, I ask, “Is dad home?”

  “No, he’ll be gone for a few more days,” my mom says sadly.

  I never know when my dad will be home or not and to tell the truth, I don’t think my mom ever knows either. To distract her, I pull her into a quick bear hug, which I’ve always thought was funny since I grew bigger than her at the age of twelve. With her being just a few inches over five feet, I tower above her at six feet now.

  “Let me take you out to dinner, mom.”

  She eyes me suspiciously, with green eyes so like my own. “I’m not upping your allowance again, Gabriel.”

  Giving her an insulted glare, I hold back my smile. “Can’t a son just show his mom that he appreciates her?” And I do. After all, I was a nine pound baby. Squeezing me and my big head out had to of hurt. The woman deserves some appreciation with my dad always gone while I was growing up. She sometimes had to be both the mom and the dad.

  “Alright, but I’m still not raising your allowance.” She attempts a stern look, but it crumbles into an affectionate smile.

  Giving her a look of mock hurt, I respond, “Gee, love you too, mom.” Just to be a brat, I add, “But you won’t ever hear those same words from me when you’re in a nursing home.”

  Narrowly, I miss her swatting hand.

  Lying in bed later that night, I’m wishing I’d had the common sense to at least get Anna’s phone number. I could be working my vocal magic on her right now. Guess the magic will just have to wait until school tomorrow. Probably for the best, I tend to be a lot for a girl to handle.

  Getting to school early, so I don’t miss her arrival, I wait in the parking lot, sitting on the back of my car with my feet propped up on the bumper. Max pulls into the parking lot ten minutes later. I hope he isn’t still mad at me, thinking murderous thoughts involving a gun and my head. When he steps out of his car, I wave him over. Instead, he ignores me and circles around the back of his car to open the passenger door. Out steps Anna. What the fuck is going on?

  They proceed to walk over to me hand in hand. Anna doesn’t even look me in the eyes or say ‘hi’, but Max is looking friend
lier than the last time I saw him. “How’s it going, Gabe?” At my dirty look, he starts looking guilty, as he should.

  “Just dandy,” I barely get out through my clenched teeth. Glaring down to where their hands are joined, I have the urge to rip them apart and yank her away from him. “I need to get to class.”

  As I walk to class, Carmen bugs me again and I think about having some angry sex out in the parking lot. However, I don’t want to encourage her and I’m so tired of her stalker bullshit. Before she can say anything more in that whiney tone, taking my anger out on her I yell, “Get the hell away from me you psychotic bitch!” Her friends standing a few feet away look at me like I’m scum, so I flip them off.

  Making it to my first class, I slam my backpack down on the desk, making a girl jump in the seat in front of mine. I grumble an apology, taking my seat. What the hell happened between the time Anna ran away from me at the beach yesterday afternoon and this morning? I thought she didn’t have his number! Did he get hers during one of their classes? How could she be with him after the multiple kisses we shared? I know I didn’t imagine how breathlessly she kissed me back.

  I sit through my first four classes, thinking over everything she said to me yesterday, everything I said to her, trying to figure out what went wrong. She seemed way more interested in me than Max. It was me that she was playing games with, not my douche of a cousin. Avoiding sitting with them at lunch, I instead watch them from where I’m sitting a few tables away. Seeing them kiss, I want to beat the shit out of my own cousin in a way that ends with him unconscious. No matter how much I tell myself that she’s just another chick and that there’s always more where she came from, I can’t stop seething.

  As she pulls away from the kiss, I study her eyes, her face. I was right. She doesn’t feel as strongly for him. The heated look that was in her eyes when we kissed isn’t in them now. Then it hits me, I know why she turned away from me and turned towards Max. It’s such a guy thing to do, but it took a while for me to figure out, coming unexpectedly from a girl.

  She’s trying to protect herself. She made it clear that she doesn’t do relationships and knows that one between us would be anything but casual. She’s the type of person that hides her true self from others, has secrets and doesn’t let anyone close enough to her to find them out. Maybe a guy hurt her in the past and now she shuts every other guy out that she has feelings for. She’s hiding from the feelings she has for me and using Max to do it. She thinks that if she dates my cousin, then she’s safe from me. That he’s safer to be with. Feeling much better about my own appeal, I start laughing to myself, getting weird looks from the people I’m sitting with.

  Well she’s wrong there. From the first moment I saw her at the club, I knew that I had to have her. Fate is crashing down on us. Doesn’t she know that you can’t fight fate?

  Annabelle

  Max had asked for my cell number between third and fourth periods yesterday, but I didn’t think he’d call after I’d hung out with Gabriel. He must have known about it, Gabriel seems like the type to make it known. I thought I’d have to smooth things over with Max at school today. Instead, he called last night and asked if he could drive me to school. Like putty in my capable hands.

  After Max picked me up at the hotel, he told me he liked me and straight up asked if I’d like to be more than friends. I told him ‘yes’ and there you have it. We’re going steady. I had to laugh about that one. Jackson obnoxiously did when I called him about it while in the restroom during second period. Gabriel problem solved. However, when we held hands in front of Gabriel before school this morning I actually felt guilty. I’ve never felt guilty about anything while on a job! It’d be ridiculous to since I use people to get to the target. It’s nothing personal, at least not on my end. And if it gets personal on their end, well that’s their problem isn’t it?

  Gabriel doesn’t sit with us at lunch, not that I’m not aware of his exact location a few tables away, and Max and I share our first kiss. It’s nice, but after we’re done with it, a part of me wishes that I could kiss Gabriel again. Greedy and stupid, Annabelle. I’m nervous as I walk to fifth period, both anticipating and dreading seeing Gabriel. Is this what normal teenage girls go through every day? If it is, it sucks. I’d take being an assassin over being a normal teenage girl any day. If I have a problem, I kill it or run away from it. If a regular teenager has a problem they have to work through it. Yep, it sucks.

  Taking the same seat as yesterday, Gabriel walks in and sits down next to me. I refuse to acknowledge how handsome he is today in that plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

  My phone vibrates and I check to see that there’s a new text from Max.

  Missing you already

  Wow, that’s kinda . . . cheesy. I laugh softly.

  The phone is snatched out of my hand by Gabriel. “What’s so funny?” Before I can answer he’s reading the message, laughing. “Told you my cousin was gay.”

  Snatching back my phone, I ignore him and pretend to pay attention to the teacher. A few minutes later a note lands on my desk. I open it slowly as if I’m not eager to read it when, sadly, I am.

  I know your secret. We’ll talk after class.

  Crap! Does Gabriel mean that he knows that I’ve been sent to kill his father? That can’t be it! Everything is done anonymously through Simon. But, what else can he be talking about? I may have to call Simon and let him know that I’m pulling out. It’d be a first, but not the end of the world. I come to terms with the fact that I may have to subdue Gabriel before leaving, but why does the thought of never seeing him again make me feel . . . uncomfortable?

  After class, I follow Gabriel out of the classroom, running through different options in my head. Knock him out . . . give him a nonfatal knife wound . . . push him down some stairs. I don’t want him at my back, that’s for sure, just in case he means to harm me. Joining him in the hallway, he grabs my hand and leads me to an exit out of the building. Good, I may need the privacy. The day is sunny and cloudless, with a temperature of around seventy-five degrees. We pass by the students heading for gym class, swerving off in a different direction.

  His hand is warm and I like the feel of my small hand in his larger one. It makes me feel feminine, protected. Something must be wrong with me because I don’t need protection from anything. I can take care of myself and anyone who chooses to mess with me. More like he’s gonna need protection from me.

  He leads me around to the back side of the gym. I scan the area and don’t see any witnesses in sight, just an empty soccer field. Well, at least it’s not an ambush. Dropping his backpack, he leans back against the wall and pulls my body up against his, hip to hip. The constant attraction I have while around him ignites further, very inconvenient.

  “What did you want to talk about Gabriel?” I’m able to keep my voice controlled, despite the urge I’m suppressing to rub against him. I lower my own backpack to the ground, readying myself for a confrontation.

  “You and me,” he says matter-of-factly. It doesn’t seem like he knows the truth about me, likely this is just some stupid ploy to get me alone.

  “There is no you and me, there is a Max and me,” I tell him coolly, holding his heated gaze.

  “There shouldn’t be a you and Max,” he says and gently grasps the back of my head, making me fight the instinctive urge to hurt him to get out of his grip. At the same time, it makes me hotter than a smoking gun. “You’re using Max to hide from your feelings for me.” Damn, I knew being alone with him was a bad idea.

  “What’s the matter Gabriel? Can’t come to terms with a girl not wanting you the most?” I tease in an attempt to hide what I’m really feeling. Want. Wants I must ignore.

  He sees right through me too easily. “Liar, I know you want me.” He flips us around so that I’m against the tan brick building of the gym and his body is pressing against mine. For some reason I choose to ignore, I let him, making excuses in my head. He kisses me and I can’t help but return
his desire. The same fire as yesterday is there, kissing him feels so right, so good.

  Weaving the fingers of one hand in my hair, with the other clutching my hip and pinning me firmly between him and the wall, Gabriel starts kissing my neck. As if he means to pick up where we left off yesterday. He kisses up to my ear and whispers, “Tell me that you only want me, Anna.”

  Instead of telling him what he wants to hear, I remain stubborn. “We just met. We barely know each other.” The instant connection and strong attraction doesn’t make any sense to me and I’m not sure it’s wise to admit to it, even to further my task. Why this male, after all the ones who have come before?

  “Tell me!” He says again, more demandingly, kissing me roughly this time.

  It’s a losing battle under his onslaught. “I only want you, Gabriel.” Somehow, I mean it and that scares the shit out of me.

  He looks me in the eyes and says with intensity, “And I only want you, Anna.” Damn, I should not be enjoying that statement, enjoying him. The heart that's supposed to be caged flutters its wings and soars.

  We start kissing again and he runs his hand up the outside of my thigh, with his torso still pressing me against the wall. I’m wearing a skirt again today, so he has easy access. When he gets to where I have several blades strapped high on my right thigh, he freezes and moves his body away from mine to look down at where his hand has raised the hem of my skirt.

  His eyes slowly journey up to my mine. His expression is one of shock. I peer at him innocently. “What? A girl has to be able to protect herself.”

  He inhales sharply, letting his next words out on the outward breath, “God, you are so hot.” Then he leans down for another kiss. This time, I’m the one grabbing the back of his head in my enthusiasm.