Page 14 of White Wings of Desire

Evelyn

I can't believe I'm doing this right now. It's been almost two weeks since the wedding, and I haven't seen him since, but I know he's there. When I escaped that night, I thought he would come for me right away, but he didn’t, not even in the following days and nights. He hasn’t given up, that’s for sure; he’s watching me, but for some reason, he’s keeping his distance. I assume he either has other jobs to attend to or is planning his next move. I sit back down at my dining table and put the small plastic stick in front of me. Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on the glass surface and bury my face in the palm of my hands.

"Eve, are you listening?" Riley says, her voice snapping me out of my thoughts. I lower my hands and turn my attention back to the laptop in front of me, where she is on a video call.

"Sorry, I got distracted."

"By something more important than telling me who the hell is trying to kill you?" I look at her through the screen and see her raised eyebrows.

"Well, kind of," I say with a nervous chuckle. "I'm taking a pregnancy test."

She falls silent on the other line, staring at me through the screen. Her eyes widen, and her jaw drops, forming a small gap. The look of disbelief is written all over her face. I can't blame her. Since I'm not on birth control right now, I took Plan B as soon as I got home, took a shower, and washed away the mess. But since he didn't use protection and came inside me more than once, I just want to make sure I'm not pregnant.

"I didn't know you were seeing someone. Why didn't you tell me?" Riley asks excitedly, the subject of the killer forgotten. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"I’m not seeing anyone," I say with a sigh and lean back in the chair. "I–" I look at Riley on the screen, her eyes wide with curiosity. "I had sex with my killer." I close my eyes, preparing myself for her reaction.

"What? You slept with that bastard?" She screams, the speakers of my laptop hissing at the volume of her voice. When I open my eyes again, I see her face up close to the camera, as if she is going to jump through the screen and attack me.

"Yes," I confess. "I was trapped, and it was my last resort, and I mean, it worked, didn't it?" Riley settle back into her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, and she looks at me in a judgmental way. She knows me too well. She knows my preference in men and has watched me make a fool of myself countless times for other hitmen.

"Was he hot, at least?"

"Yes." Heat creeps up my cheeks, and I can't hide the subtle smile that plays on my lips. The memory of him on top of me flashes through my mind: his handsome face, those bright green eyes looking into my soul, his big, strong hands all over my body, touching every part of me he could reach. No matter if it's day or night, at some point, I catch myself thinking about him.

"Tell me who it is. I want to see for myself." She chuckles, and I can already hear her typing on her mechanical keyboard through the speaker.

I hesitate for a moment before finally answering. "It's the White Dove Killer." The moment the nickname other killers have given him rolls off my tongue, Riley freezes, as if her camera froze but I see her eyes moving, returning to the screen to look at me.

"And you made it out alive, a second time?" she asks, her voice laced with surprise and something else, fear?

"Yes, and I haven’t seen him since. His behavior seems strange compared to the information we have about him."

"And the little information we have isn't much," she sighs. "Eve, you're the first one to come out of an encounter with him alive. You know what he looks like now."

"I also have a possible name," I add, and Riley's eyes widen in shock.

"How?"

"Apparently, he is a close business partner of the groom’s, so I texted Mr. King's daughter and asked her about him. She said she had met him, and his name is Noah Philip Holman."

"Give me a second," Riley says, followed by the sound of her keyboard echoing from my laptop speakers. "Got something interesting. Noah Philip Holman, born February the 27th, 1990. No parents on the birth certificate. Multiple records from the foster care system. Emancipated in 2006, shortly after he and his foster mother were in a house fire in which she died."

I close my eyes and concentrate on everything Riley says, rubbing my temples as I process the information. "Age-wise, it could be him, he looks like he's in his mid-thirties. And he has a hand-sized burn scar on his chest. Is there any current information?" I look up at her only to see her shake her head in response.

"Nothing that stands out. There are a few Noah Holmans, but this one's childhood stuck out," she says. "He probably uses multiple identities like everyone else. Finding foolproof information on him will be difficult."

"You're probably right." The alarm on my phone's timer interrupts us, and I jump in my chair. I quickly turn off the annoying chime and reach for the pregnancy test, taking a deep breath before turning it around.

"What's the result?"

"It’s negative." I throw my arms up in the air and slump back into my chair, releasing a deep sigh of relief.

Thank God. I don't know what I would have done if the test was positive. What would he have done if he found out I was pregnant with his child? I doubt he would have spared me. He doesn't give me the impression that he cares about such things. I wonder if he would actually kill a child if someone hired him to do so. I turn my attention back to the screen. "Riley, can you send me everything you have on him? I have to figure something out."

"Sure, give me thirty minutes, and I’ll email you everything we have," Riley falls silent for a brief second. "Are you sure you don't want to tell the boss about this?" She asks, and I shake my head. Sure, I've thought about asking for help before, but I know it would come with a price I’m unwilling to pay. I don't want to go back to that lifestyle. If I did that, I could just let the White Dove Killer kill me. It wouldn't make much difference.

"I'm sure it's for the better, Riley." I offer her a reassuring smile. "I'll be alright, I promise."

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