Angel and the Assassin (18 page)

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Authors: Fyn Alexander

Tags: #BDSM LGBT Erotic Contemporary, #General Fiction

BOOK: Angel and the Assassin
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9“You okay, Daddy?” Angel came over and began to pat his back. Between the coughing and laughter, neither of them heard the doorbell. In a moment of silence, the buzzer filled the room.

Without pause, Kael grabbed Angel by both arms, propelling him out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom. “Stay in here.”

“What‟s the panic; don‟t you ever get visitors?”

“No, I don‟t.” He pointed at the bed. “Sit and don‟t move.”

Angel held up both hands as if threatened with a gun. “I won‟t.”

The bell sounded again, making Kael feel murderous. Angel sat on the side of the bed. “In the middle!” The boy scrambled into the middle of the bed on his hands and knees, looking up at Kael. The amusement had all melted from Angel‟s face.

“Your backside is glued to that bed. Do not come out. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Kael closed the door behind him and ran on silent feet to the kitchen. He stacked the dishes and pushed everything into an empty cupboard—plates, glasses, everything that suggested two people had eaten dinner. The bell rang again as he hurried down the hall and opened the coat cupboard, reaching up to the top shelf to get his gun. He tucked it into his belt and looked at the CCTV. It was Conran, and he was right outside, not down in the lobby.

Standing behind the door, Kael opened it.

“Saunders?” The voice sounded tentative.

Kael pulled the door slightly wider.

“Saunders, what the hell are you up to?” He stepped inside. Kael closed the door and at the same time leveled his gun at Conran, who plastered himself against the door, his hands raised comically like in an old gangster film.

Kael began to laugh.

Looking both frightened and angry, Conran dropped his hands, pulling his dark gray suit jacket closer about him as if it could protect him from a bullet. “Put that thing down, and don‟t be an idiot.”

Kael grinned. But he didn‟t think it was especially funny; he just enjoyed winding Conran up. He leaned across him to lock the door.

“For God‟s sake, will you invite me in or do we have to stand here talking?”

With the gun still aiming directly at his heart, Kael kept him waiting another thirty seconds, looking directly into his eyes. Conran could not take his eyes off the gun.

Kael took a step backward. “Go ahead, into the living room.”

Still nervous, Conran sidled past him. “I see the place is spotless as usual.”

Kael returned the gun to the top shelf and closed the cupboard door before following Conran into the living room. “You came to check on my housekeeping?” He pointed at the couch. “Sit down.”

Glancing around him, Conran stood in the middle of the living room, obviously looking for signs of another person.

“Sit!” Kael‟s voice split the air. Conran dropped onto the couch at once, his face in tight lines of anger and fear. Smiling, Kael sank down into a leather armchair.

“What are you bothering me for? Do you have an assignment for me?”

“Where‟s the boy? Angel. Ridiculous name.”

Kael felt his hackles rise at once. Who the hell did the little prick think he was making remarks like that about his boy? “Isn‟t your kid called Rupert? Like Rupert the bear?”

Conran swallowed nervously but did not respond to the question. “Where is he?”

“I told you. I never saw him.” The fucker knew. He was on to him.

Conran sat back and crossed his legs, looking at Kael. “I‟ve seen the CCTV

footage of you both boarding the British Airways plane at Logan International Airport and disembarking at Heathrow. The e-mail he sent to the maid came from the Starbucks on Palmer Street, half an hour at most from here.”

It was just a matter of time before Conran found out. Kael‟s expression gave nothing away. He had been expecting this; he‟d just hoped it wouldn‟t be so soon.

“All right, so I brought him home with me.”

Conran leaned forward. “Why? If he saw you hit the target, he was collateral damage. Why is he still alive?”

“He saw nothing,” Kael said. “I found him outside the house on the beach after I killed Andresen. I wanted to fuck him, so I did, and I enjoyed it so much I brought him home for a few days to amuse me.”

“You know, Saunders, I have no trouble at all believing that.”

“He was willing. I never fuck them unless they‟re willing.” He grinned. “Well, there was that one time, but you deserved it.”

“You think the whole world is your trampoline, don‟t you, Saunders?”

“And so it is. Are we finished?”

“Not quite. Where is he? He can‟t stay here.”

“He‟s not here. I killed him,” Kael said. His expression and tone remained completely neutral. “I had what I wanted from him, and then I got rid of him. Don‟t worry; his body is not going to show up anywhere. I took care of it.”

Conran‟s eyes flickered about the room momentarily before alighting on Kael again. “I have no trouble believing that either.”

“Is his mother looking for him?” Kael asked.

“The mother doesn‟t give a damn about him. The maid found Andresen and called the police; they contacted Samantha Andresen in France. She admitted the boy was not with her and said he‟ll have to look after himself. He could have been alive or dead at that point. She doesn‟t want him back. She won‟t make any trouble.”

9Anger at the woman‟s callousness gripped at Kael‟s belly, making him want to snatch Angel to his chest and protect him. What kind of mother would not look for her missing son? “Are you sure?”

Conran entwined his fingers and stretched his palms as if getting ready to deal cards. “Yes. She dumped the boy in foster care for six years or so. She married Andresen when the boy was ten, yet she didn‟t take him back to live with her until he was twelve and the authorities tried to put him up for adoption.”

“Charming.” Kael suppressed the urge to go and find Samantha Andresen and put a scalpel in her neck.

“However, you were in the supermarket buying food you would never eat, and then you bought an anime magazine. Something a teenager would read. I think he‟s still here.”

“You went into the fucking supermarket and asked what I bought?” Kael asked.

“Of course I did,” Conran said.

Anger rushed through Kael, tightening the muscles in his belly. In a split second he was leaning over Conran with a fistful of his jacket in one hand and the strong fingers of his other hand pinching the man‟s throat. Conran slid down in his seat, his eyes wide with pain and terror, his breath coming hard and fast.

“I knew that was you in the car park. If you keep following me instead of letting me do my job, then I‟ll have to get rid of you too.”

“You had better take your hands off me, Saunders. No one will protect you if you hurt me. You will be prosecuted.” The words were brave, but his face was pale and tight with fear.

Kael leaned in closer until his face was barely three inches from Conran‟s bulging, terrified eyes. “I don‟t give a shite. You know perfectly well I don‟t give a shite,” he said in a low voice. He was sure that, if they were still enough, he would hear Conran‟s heart thudding in his chest and the blood rushing through the veins in his temples. Another minute and the man would piss himself.

Kael hung onto Conran‟s throat for another full minute to get his point across before slowly easing his hand away. But instead of going back to his chair, he sat beside Conran, close enough to both arouse and frighten him. “Do you want a drink?” Kael asked, as though it was a social visit and he had not just had the man by the throat and threatened his life.

“No, thank you. Is that boy still here? I need some assurance that he‟s not.”

“Don‟t touch anything, and don‟t get off the couch,” Kael ordered.

He got up and went quickly along the hall and into the bedroom, closing the door behind him, his finger to his lips. Angel still sat in the middle of the bed exactly where he had been told to wait. He rose up on his knees and shuffled to the side of the bed. Kael looked at him with relief. “Good boy.” He kept his voice very low and pulled Angel into his arms. “You have to stay here for a while longer, until I tell you it‟s safe to come out.”

“Yes, Sir, but Daddy, where‟s my blanket?”

“Your what?” Kael was confused.

“My blankie. It was under my pillow.”

That‟s what that rag was, a comfort blanket! Why didn‟t he figure that out himself? “I locked it in the dungeon with your clothes,” he lied.

“Why, Daddy?”

“Are you my slave or what?” Kael asked to distract him.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then you have to obey me. There‟s something I have to do. There‟s a man in the living room who can‟t know you‟re here, at least not yet. He‟ll try to take you away from me. You be a good boy and stay here, not a sound, not a movement. If you have to use the loo, do not flush.” Angel nodded obediently. “Good lad,” Kael said. He snatched the magazine off the bed.

“Daddy!” Angel mouthed.

“I need this.” Kael returned to the living room to find Conran exactly where he had left him. He looked at the way the man‟s jacket lay against his body and the position of his hands and feet, and knew he had remained seated as ordered. Kael tossed the magazine at Conran. “My guilty pleasure,” he said. “I was going to read it in my lonely bed.” He grinned.

Conran picked it up and leafed through it. Kael walked to the sideboard where the drinks tray sat and poured two glasses of whiskey. He returned to the couch and sat down beside Conran again. Conran let the magazine fall in his lap and took the glass. “What about the food? You don‟t eat macaroni-cheese, nor do you eat hot dogs.

The chocolate biscuits, perhaps, but not the other things.”

“How do you know?”

“I know your habits. It‟s my job to know,” he added quickly. But Kael knew that as good as Conran was at his job, he would not know what his other operatives ate or read. Somebody would, but not him.

Looking down, then back up at Conran with a little grin as though he felt sheepish, Kael said, “You can take the boy out of the council estate, but you can‟t take the council estate out of the boy.” He looked intimately into Conran‟s eyes.

“Now why don‟t you admit you came here because you want me and not to look for a dead boy.”

Conran‟s mouth twitched nervously. He took a sip of his whiskey. “Where‟s his body?”

“In the river, but it‟s weighted down. If he ever surfaces, nobody will recognize him, not after the fishies have eaten him. Now let‟s talk about something more interesting, like what you want me to do to you.”

Sweat broke out on Conran‟s upper lip; his breath became suddenly shallow.

He was close to getting what he wanted but was terrified of being humiliated again.

“I don‟t know,” he said quietly.

9Kael sat back expansively, letting his arm fall around Conran‟s shoulders.

Conran sucked in a quick breath. His hands began to shake to the point where his drink splashed onto his trousers, leaving little dark circles of whiskey.

“You do want me, don‟t you?” Kael asked.

“Are you going to humiliate me again with a last-minute refusal like you did in my office?” Conran looked bitter.

Kael laughed and swallowed a mouthful of whisky. “That was just a tease. I enjoyed playing with you. You know I‟m an evil bastard, don‟t you?”

“Yes, I do know that.”

“That‟s why you like me. I always intended to give you what you want. Now you just have to tell me what it is.”

“I don‟t know,” Conran whispered.

Kael turned to face him, his arm still draped loosely about Conran‟s shoulders.

Conran‟s breathing became labored, and Kael lifted the magazine and looked down to see the bulge at his crotch.

“When I fucked you in the showers at school, your cum was all over the tiles when you got up afterward.”

“You raped me.”

“That time, yes. Would you like me to do it again? Do you want my cock up your arse?”

“Yes.” Conran would not look at him.

Kael leaned in very close until he could smell the whiskey on Conran‟s breath and the sweat under his armpits. With his free hand he pulled open the jacket to see wet patches forming on Conran‟s usually immaculate white shirt. “Say it. Say the words. I may have raped you last time, but this time you have to tell me what you want. I‟m not touching you unless I have your complete agreement.”

“I want your cock up my arse.” His voice was barely discernible.

“Shall I restrain you first? You know what I‟m into. You know everything about me. I like to dominate. I like to tie men up before I fuck their brains out. I like to whip their backsides until they scream. Do you want some of that?”

Conran nodded and wiped the sweat from his upper lip.

Kael‟s smile was both teasing and very intimate. “You have to say yes please, Sir.”

“Yes please, Sir.” Conran‟s cheeks were scarlet.

“Finish your drink.”

Conran downed the last of his whiskey, and Kael took the glasses back to the sideboard. He returned to Conran and with his right hand took the man‟s left hand, pressing their palms together and entwining their fingers. Conran‟s gaze locked on Kael‟s. It was bright and glassy as if he was about to faint.

“Come with me; there‟s a good boy,” Kael said.

Chapter Twelve

Kael drew him to his feet and pointed at the passage. Passively, Conran walked ahead of him into the dungeon. Kael switched on the light but turned it low.

He had left Angel‟s clothes by the door and had to remove them quickly, but Conran was so aroused and distracted he did not notice. Quickly Kael shoved the clothes under the towels on the shelves where he kept blankets and creams for aftercare.

Then he walked over to the shelf above the sink and pressed a button.

Rooted to the spot, looking extremely nervous and aroused, Conran glanced around the room. Watching him, Kael stripped and stood, hands on his hips. His height alone was imposing, but standing magnificently naked, absolutely sure of his own strength and attractiveness, he knew he was extremely intimidating. Conran looked him up and down, breathing hard.

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