The Story Of Blood And Roses 38 Good Shot, My Kitten
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Looking around the large expanse of the place, I spotted Anthony right at the edge of the range. There was no one around him. I believe he preferred it to be that way. His goggle covered eyes never left his target as the bullets punctured through the air in quick succession.
I made my way towards him, the plan forming in my head. I wanted to test his concentration; see if he could hit the target with absolute precision even if I interrupted him with my sheer presence. Before I knew it, I was standing right behind him, staring at his back, waiting for his reaction. I knew that he could feel me right behind him, but he didn't move or show as much. I peered over his shoulder to see that the target was close to destroyed, barely any danger points left to be shot.
I waited for him to be done, or at least acknowledge my presence and he did finish his round of shots soon after. He pulled his ear protectors off and leaned forward to change the cartridge.
"Enjoying the show, Mia?" His voice was low for someone who'd just finished his round of shots and out away his ear protectors. Standing in close proximity to someone who shouted their answers at you for no reason was appalling. He didn't do it. His control over his senses was refres.h.i.+ng. Few people could pull off keeping their voice low after taking of ear gear. He was still facing away from me, not glancing over at me to see if it was me or not.
"Sure am." I could see the side of his face from where I stood, and the distinct lifting of his cheeks as his lips spread into a smile. He placed the gun beside him and turned towards me while he removed the offending goggles from over his eyes. He scrutinized me for a moment, taking in my clothes, my face—my eyes.
"Didn't get much sleep last night, I presume." I shook my head with a little grin. "After I asked you to rest, that is," he mocked, coolly. I didn't answer him back.
"Thank you for calling them off my back," my voice was barely a whisper. Yes, the tailing b.a.s.t.a.r.ds were gone. That was why my rancid mood had vanished. Momentarily, but vanished.
He just shrugged it off like it was nothing.
"You did some good work, yesterday," he said. I took a bow but ended up thinking of a lot of questions.
"Why did you send me, yesterday? Clearly, Cienna handles all the business." He smiled a sarcastic smile at that.
"I knew you'd ask that." He tilted his head to a side to appraise me. "I want you to know the odds of working for me. I had to get you into the sight of Luke Darcy. You're my new a.s.sociate; an a.s.set. I was just flaunting to you. There is nothing wrong with that, Mia. I have plans which are bigger than these little meetings." He raised a brow as if to dare me to ask him his plans. I didn't. I just knew that he'd have already told me if he intended for me to know. After a while, you accept that Anthony isn't someone you can take out information from. He'll hint at it, but never tell it like it is.
Mind games: he loves those.
"Thank you for the opportunity." I appreciated it. To be flaunted by Anthony was a good thing. I didn't exactly understand where that left me, but it certainly gave me an advantage. People would trust me enough to give me information freely. It would be easier to infiltrate Anthony's mob.
"Nice jacket," he said before he left me behind to stare at the carnage he called 'practice'. There was not much left of the target. He was the brand of dangerous that mixed genius with a destructive att.i.tude. It suited him.
The comment made my stomach tighten. Memories of the first fight between Anthony and I flashed across my mind. I flung the jacket open and threw it beside Anthony's discarded gun. I chose the target next to Anthony's and picking up the gun I'd been given, shot at it mercilessly.
One after the other the bullets flew, piercing the d.a.m.ned thing over and over. Never missing, never faltering, I shot at it until I had no bullets left. I shot at it until I felt my shoulders ache with exertion. I put the gun down to give my shoulder some time to recuperate.
"Good shot, my kitten," I heard him say. He stood right behind me, too close to miss. And even though I could feel the warmth radiating from his body now, I hadn't felt it all the time I'd been shooting at the target.
"You don't miss, do you?" he spoke into my ears. I heard a quiet, strangled chuckle follow. I peered at his face to see if he'd been sincere. His lips were twisted into a smile, his eyes burned. His hands gripped at his sides as he stared at me. He licked his lips as he stared at my shoulder. "Put the jacket back on before half the men in the room decide to forget themselves and gravitate towards you." I stared at him for a moment as he walked away, feeling a sense of power overtake me.
I had the ultimate control—to have him want to possess me. That excited me to no end. I was reaching the very peak. He would soon be in my palms to do with as I pleased.
Lewd images crossed my mind. Us: flesh on flesh, glistening and tearing at each other like hungry wolves, shaking with need, uncontrolled. My blood boiled and swam in my veins, scorching me—with familiar anger and unfamiliar need.
Putting my jacket back on, I stole a look at Anthony who was talking to the other men, his hands still clenched at his sides; eyes still flitting across the room, trying not to look at me.
I felt triumph- a victory I had never thought would feel so sweet. I lived in those moments for some time.
It only lasted for a few moments. Cienna had entered my range of sight. She latched herself onto Anthony as soon as she spotted him and as if disgusted by the conversation the men were having, looked away. Her eyes met mine and she sneered at me. I knew that Anthony was talking about me, and she didn't like it. The look on her face was proof.
She left his side like she'd been scorched. Anthony didn't give an ounce of attention to her. She walked towards me with contempt filled eyes and stopped mere inches from me. Her face was too close to mine. I felt her breath on my face. I wanted to move away, but I didn't want her to think that I was backing off.
"You reek!" she accused like it was an insult. To me, it wasn't. I sweat because I work. I was powerful; I was closer to my goal than she was. I reeked of victory and promise. She hated it.
I wondered then, when did I start becoming so insightful? Maybe, it was the forgotten dream that jolted me out of my helpless act.
I f.u.c.king worked now. I would pretend to do every d.a.m.n thing asked of me and ruin them. I would have fun. I would destroy and take; take everything and anything I want. It was all clear in my mind. It was the only way to win.
"Cienna!" I think I gave her a sweet, fake smile. It made me look terribly scary. I'd seen myself in the mirror while I pulled that smile at anyone. "Give me a hug." I engulfed her into my arms, surprising her. She shrieked in horror.
[Donate @ paypal.me/SunScar9 and ko-fi.com/sunscar9 to ensure I don't starve.]
The Story Of Blood And Roses 38 Good Shot, My Kitten
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The Story Of Blood And Roses 38 Good Shot, My Kitten summary
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