Page 29 of Praying Mantis

“The buttons won’t open,” he slurs. I giggle.

“Damn those buttons not doing what they need to do. Let me help you.” I get out of bed and walk to his side. He’s so drunk. His hands are on my legs. I’m wearing one of his signature black t-shirts along with a pair of light blue lace panties. I slowly unbutton each one making sure my fingers brush against his chest.

“Not playing fair,” he murmurs.

“You started it by running those long fingers up my thighs. You don’t want to play the game, don’t start one,” I tease. I finish removing his shirt and unbutton his dress pants. “Lift your hips so I can get your pants off.” He smirks. “You’re drunk and we’re not having sex tonight.”

“Are you sure?” He teases as his fingers are now running over the front of my underwear. “So wet already.” I moan as he moves my panties over as his thumb rubs my clit.

“Let me make you come,” he whispers. My hands play with his black hair. I tug on his hair as he slides two fingers inside my soaking wet pussy. Feeling my orgasm building, Sean places his head on my stomach. He slowly slides his fingers in, and I’m almost there. Then I hear it. Sean is snoring. Looking up at the ceiling, I am trying not to laugh or cry at this point. What is the female equivalent of blue balls? I pull back a bit and lay Sean down on the bed. Placing a kiss on his forehead, I go into his bathroom for a washrag. My OCD, no matter if it is my pussy juices on his fingers, needs to clean his hand up. I place the washrag in the dirty clothes hamper and lie next to him. Sleep doesn’t come easy because the impending conversation about me being Praying Mantis needs to be had tomorrow, and I pray I don’t lose him and my freedom.

Sean

Why do I feel like a bus has hit me? I’m lying on my side and the room spins as my eyes slowly open. I’m noticing all I’m wearing are my boxer briefs.

“Fuck, my head hurts.” Shit, it even hurts to speak.

“That’s because you came in drunker than Cootie Brown last night.” Hearing Louisa next to me, it all comes back to me from the drinking to—fuck I passed out of her last night. Did I really fall asleep with my fingers inside this beautiful woman and didn’t get her off?

“Hey, baby.” I roll over to face her and have the bubble guts. “I’m sorry for last night.”

“No need to apologize.” Louisa’s voice is small, and she’s laying on her back staring at the ceiling. Did I piss her off last night for being drunk and a fucking idiot for not having sex with her? I reach out to lightly stroke the top of her lace panties underneath her T-shirt. I feel her stomach tense with my feather-light touches on her skin. She places her hand on top of mine stopping me. Oh my God what the fuck did I do? Is she breaking up with me? Is that what she wanted to talk to me about last night? Louisa takes a deep breath while still staring at the ceiling. “Sean, we need to have an important conversation and I can’t blur the lines with sex.”

“Okay. Situations like last night have never happened before and I’m truly sorry. I love you and getting you off is a very high priority for me.” I try to make my voice sound sexy trying to lessen the tension in the room.

“Sean, this has nothing to do with sex or the fact I’m constantly wet thinking about you, talking to you, and being in the same room as you. This is something entirely different and it’s going to change the way you feel about me.” I stare at her face, and I see a tear falling from her eye.

“Acushla, there is nothing you can say that will ever make me love you less or see you differently.” I try to reassure her. Louisa shakes her head as she brings her hands to her face and is now sobbing into her hands. “Baby, I hate seeing you cry like this, please talk to me so I know what’s going on. I can’t fix anything if I’m left in the dark.” Louisa gets out of the bed and paces the length of my room and I sit up but grab my head as the room spins. “Let me get something for this headache and a drink of water from the mini fridge over there then we can talk, okay?” I use a gentle voice I bring out when talking with victims, especially children. She nods while chewing on her finger.

I get out of my bed and walk into the bathroom attached to my bedroom as I search for Tylenol for this pounding headache. The way her face is white as a ghost tells me this is an important conversation and I need to be fully functional for it. Finding the bottle, I grab it and walk to the mini fridge Maeve keeps stocked for me when I come to stay here. After taking the pills, I throw on a pair of gray sweatpants and sit back on the bed. I give her all of my attention as she continues to pace.

“If I could give you information about or tell you who the Praying Mantis is on a silver platter, what would you do?” she rushes out. I shoot out of the bed and stalk toward her.

“How the fuck do you know about the Praying Mantis? Have you been snooping in my shit?” I snap at her. I am now face to face with her and my breathing is erratic. I feel like a lion on the hunt, and she stands there shaking. I want to comfort her but my instinct as an FBI agent tells me to protect myself and my career.

“No, I didn’t snoop in your shit. The television has been talking about the fucking Praying Mantis for months, you dumb fuck!” she yells at me. I flinch as if she just smacked me across the face. I swallow hard trying to calm down. I move to sit back down on the bed as Louisa opens her mouth dropping the biggest bomb of my life.

Louisa

“Please don’t hate me. I’m the Praying Mantis.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop myself. Sean is midway between standing and sitting but he’s completely frozen in time.

“What did you say?” His words came out so low but I can feel the rage behind them. They’re almost sinister which sends a shiver through my body.

“Please don’t make me repeat those words.” He stands to full height and the look of his eyes is darker, I can’t tell if it’s hate or rage.

“Oh, I heard you quite clearly, Louisa or do you prefer to be called Praying Mantis?” He sneers at me. The tears are falling even harder but I’m trying to be strong. The way he stares at me fills me with dread as I know the man who promised to love me forever is now getting ready to arrest me. “Get the fuck out.” The venom behind his voice is something I’m not used to and it makes me swallow the bile coming up my throat because I know he’s serious. I walk toward the door and grab the handle, then turn to look at him over my shoulder.

“I’m only telling you this because they contacted me yesterday about a new hit. You’re the next one on my list.” I walk out the door slamming it before fleeing from the hallway. I run down the stairs and I hear things crashing while hearing him yell my name and to stop. Cara is standing at the bottom of the steps asking me what’s wrong and I ignore her while running outside to my car. I put the car in reverse after starting it and race out of the driveway. I slam the steering wheel, angry at myself for being so fucking stupid to think he’d be rational enough to talk to me about things but no, once an FBI agent always an FBI agent.

I arrive at home after taking several side streets to make sure I wasn’t followed. I finally walk into my apartment an hour and a half later making sure the FBI or police weren’t waiting for me. I left my phone and purse at Cara’s house. I have a second phone in my safe with all of the important business contacts and information. I open the safe which is in my closet and dial my handler.

“Are you in trouble, is that why you’re calling from this number?” the voice on the other line says without even saying hello.

“What happens if I don’t take a hit assigned to me?” I ramble as I put the phone on speakerphone so I can change my clothes.

“Not take an assignment? That’s just stupid on your part but to be honest, it goes back onto the dark web for another hitman or hitwoman to take it. Why?”

“Mom, the next hit is too personal. I can’t do it.” I sniff.

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