Page 18 of White Wings of Desire

I stare back at him. My hands twitch at the sudden confrontation, and I suppress the urge to raise the knife on him. "Yeah, didn't I tell you what happened at the wedding? I guess I forgot to mention that detail."

"That's one big fucking detail you forgot," Kyle almost yells at me, his grip on my shoulders tightening as he rocks me back and forth. I bring my hands up and put them on top of his to push him off of me.

"Let me go and calm down. It's just sex." I attempt to brush it off, even though I know it's not just sex. It’s changed the whole set of circumstances for me and has thrown me off my game. But Kyle doesn't need to know that.

"Sex with the person you're supposed to kill." He lets go of me and takes a step back to look at me. "Here I thought I was the reckless one of us, but you're showing me a whole new part of you. Where have you been hiding that side of you all these years?" He chuckles.

"Shut up." I roll my eyes.

"Is that how she got away from you again?"

"Possibly."

"Man, you must really suck for that girl to keep running away from you." I glare at him, but it only causes the grin on his face to grow wider. "You know, if you were so desperate for this pussy, you could have just killed her and fucked her corpse. That would have saved you the embarrassment."

My head snaps in Kyle's direction, my face turning into an expression of horror at his proposal. "What the fuck? Please don't tell me you've done this before."

"No!" He laughs at my reaction. "But since you're the crazy one, I wouldn't be surprised if you had a thing for dead bodies."

A cold chill runs down my spine, and I shake my head, trying to get rid of the new set of images that have formed in my mind. A grunt behind me grabs our attention, and we turn to see the man regaining his consciousness. With him awake, we can finally move on from the subject of Evelyn. I don't want to think about her right now.

It's been two days since I last saw her, and it's been killing me. I've barely been able to eat; every time I think about her, my stomach begins to ache. I don't like not knowing what she is doing. Not being able to keep an eye on her drives me nuts. I have the GPS on her, and instead of sleeping, I've been watching the little red dot on my phone. I know she hasn't gone out of her apartment since I left, but it's torture not to actually see her. I thought about hiding cameras in her apartment, but ultimately decided against it. As hypocritical as it is, I already follow her everywhere, so I didn't want to invade her personal space any further.

With Kyle's nagging out of the way, we get to work.

These people are all the same. No one is creative these days. Just like everyone else, our victim is trying to convince us that he’s innocent, that we have the wrong one, and that X, Y, or Z is the person we are looking for. But we have the proof that he's the one we're after, and even if he wasn't, he’s seen our faces; he has to die.

I sigh and look at the finger I cut off the man's hand. He lies on the table, crying uncontrollably, his whole body quivering while calling for his mother. "Let's take a break." I toss the finger aside and turn to Kyle, who is looming over our victim, cooing to him like the crying baby he is.

Kyle spins around and nods. "Sure, sounds like a fantastic idea." He pats the man on the cheek one last time and joins me. I pull the blood-soaked gloves off my hands and drop them on the table before we both head outside. Escaping the stench of blood and urine. The poor guy pissed himself the first time I slapped him. What a fucking pussy.

We sit in silence perched on the hood of my car, each with a cigarette in hand and an energy drink I brought as a treat. Kyle is busy typing on his phone, jumping between different chats, his face scrunched up, his forehead wrinkled in lines that highlight his annoyance. The temptation to sneak a peek and see who he's having drama with this time is high, but it's probably just one of his far too many escorts feeling neglected again. Given his preference for young girls with attachment issues, I wouldn't be surprised. I tilt my head back, close my eyes, and take a deep breath, releasing the gray smoke from my lungs with a deep sigh. Opening my eyes, I watch the smoke dissipate into the early morning sky, a beautiful orange with a hint of blue.

With a quick flick of my wrist, I dispose of the cigarette. The remains of the filter fall to the dusty gravel. Stepping forward, I twist my foot to kick out the remaining burning stub. The kicked-up dust settles on my previously clean leather shoes. Kyle does the same, and we head back inside.

A buzzing sensation in the back pocket of my pants makes me freeze. Didn't I turn off all notifications? I grab my phone, and the screen flickers to life the moment it tilts up. My heartbeat quickens, pumping the blood through my veins at the notifications from the GPS tracker I put in her purse. With nervous, shaky fingers, I enter the passcode to unlock the phone and open the app, which shows a map with a small red dot moving away from the zone I've set as safe. Does that little bitch really have the audacity to try and run away?

My foot nervously taps against the concrete floor of the building, the repetitive sound echoing off the stone walls. My eyes remain glued to the screen of my phone, watching the dot move toward what looks like New Hampshire. My brain is working at high speed, coming up with every possible scenario and action I need to take to stop her.

A low, gurgling groan tears me from my thoughts, and my head jerks up to our victim. The man has already lost a lot of blood and lost his ability to communicate long ago. There’s no point in trying to get any information out of him. I put my phone back in my pocket, and with long strides, make my way across the room. Grabbing one of my knives from the table, clutching the handle tightly in my fist, I approach the man strapped to the table.

"Noah, what are you doing?" Kyle asks, and I hear the concern in his tone, but I choose to ignore him. I raise the knife above my head, and without a second thought, I stab the man in the chest. Over and over again. Blood spurts from his mouth and splashes in my face as he gurgles and takes his last miserable breaths. Even when the man stops moving, and no more screams come out of the now lifeless body, I don't stop. I let out my anger and slam the knife back into the man's torso, putting all my body weight into the swing. A pair of large hands land on my shoulders and pull me away from the lifeless body. I trip over my own feet as my body is tossed around. Kyle grabs my wrists, knocking the knife out of my hand. "Calm down," he says with an urgency in his voice. "What's going on?"

"She's running away." I try to free my wrists from his grip, but he holds tight, my palms prickle from the reduced blood flow to my fingertips. My whole body is trembling, the anger boiling inside me. Kyle's hold on me remains tight, and he looks at our target, knowing just as well as I do that we are done anyway. He releases my wrists and shoves me back.

"Go get her. I'll take care of the rest," he sighs, "I'll call you as soon as I got everything." He steps out of my way.

"Thanks," I say, and in no time, I gather up all my belongings and storm out of the building. I toss everything in the trunk and get into the driver's seat. Stupid bitch, I curse under my breath. I've been away for what? Two days, and she has the nerve to try and run away? After I treated her like a gentleman? If that's the way she wants to play it, she can have it.

Chapter 17

Evelyn

It’s ten in the morning when Lily pulls into the driveway of her grandparents' summer house. The moment I catch the first glance of the big cabin, many fond memories of my childhood flood into my mind. For many summers, this place was my escape–my safe haven. Where I could get away from my parents for at least a few weeks, far away from the abuse and the drugs. The O'Briens always took care of me, and from them, I learned what a healthy family should look like. Unfortunately, their love didn't save me from falling into the wrong crowd.

When Lily went to college, I had to start working. My first and last somewhat legal job was in a shady bar that was hidden in a dark alley where no eighteen-year-old should be working. Many of the regulars were sketchy men, and everyone was aware that they were criminals. It's no surprise the bar was where I met my first employer, who introduced me to the world of professional killing.

Now that I'm back at one of the few places that fill my heart with warmth, I'm going to enjoy my time and relive the happy moments of my childhood with my dearest friends. After getting settled in our rooms, the first thing we do is change into our swimwear and take a dip in the freezing cold lake. We explore the forest and pick flowers around the lake for a cute and colorful bouquet to decorate the dinner table. It’s as if we’re all fifteen again, having a great time with no responsibilities to worry about. Back at the cabin, we settle down on the big, cozy sofa and watch romance movies until the sun sets, casting a beautiful pink glow over the forest and lake.

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