JACKSON

 

SHE'S EVEN MORE beautiful up close is my first thought.

And my second thought — just as the woman raises her leg and knees me right in the crotch — is holy fuck, that hurts!

And just like a thief in the night, the woman disappears between buildings while I'm standing there in agony doubled over with my hand planted against the brick wall of the hotel.

Sucking in a deep breath and trying not to puke, I take a few seconds to gather myself, and my sore balls, before retreating back to my rental car parked on the street.  I loaded my suitcases while the daring trapeze artist climbed over balconies and maneuvered down a fire escape.  She's like some sort of hot ninja, and holy shit, her kicks are definitely lethal.

Kicking the car into reverse, I place a hand on the headrest of the passenger seat, look over my shoulder and floor it.

I know these streets like the back of my hand, and I'm guessing that my little fugitive does not.  If she did, she would know that she's running straight toward the docks and, thus, a dead end.

Squealing to a skidding stop, I whip the wheel and put the car in drive, racing down a dark, narrow street, dodging the occasional tourist out on a nightly stroll.

The water comes into view as I ease up on the gas.  Throwing the car in park, I dig into my medical bag in the passenger seat and prepare a syringe full of sedative just in case.  I don't have a plan of action in place.  I'm just going to go with the flow at this point.

I take a moment to breathe while filling the syringe, letting out an unsteady breath.  I've never actually chased anyone before.  And holy shit, the rush is incredible.  My heart is beating hard in an erratic rhythm against my ribcage while the adrenaline rushes through my veins.

Tucking the capped needle into my jacket pocket, I step out of the car and look towards where the woman should be coming out of.  The way she ran should lead her right to me.

I duck in behind a dumpster.  Watching.  Waiting.  A thrill of excitement shoots through me and straight to my heavy cock, which still throbs in pain from when she kneed me in the nuts.

I hear her before I see her.  Her panicked breaths escape her lungs in the quiet night as she runs straight towards me.  Like an animal stalking its prey, I stay low and quiet and wait for the perfect moment to strike.

As soon as I see her pass by me in a blur, I stand up and chase her.  It doesn't take more than a few strides before she's in my arms, her back to my chest.  I lift her up off the ground, and she struggles, but she doesn't scream.

Holding her tightly against me, stealing her breath, I whisper in her ear, "I saw what you did."

My words affect her, and she stops struggling, but only for a moment.  "Let me go!" she demands.

I release her, and she turns to face me.  Her blue eyes are blazing as she glares at me.  And then her face morphs into confusion.  "You're not one of Pavel's men.  Who are you?" she demands.  She speaks perfectly good English, but her thick Russian accent is a dead giveaway as to her roots.

"Who is Pavel?  The man you shot?"

She slowly begins to back up, but I follow her every move.  "What…what do you want from me?" she asks.

What do I want?  Wait, what the hell do I want?  I don't even have an answer for that question.  I made it a point to follow her, to capture her, but now I have no idea what to do with her.

I should turn her into the authorities.  That is what I should do.

But I've never really been one to follow the rules, and this girl has me so intrigued I can't even think straight.  I decide that I want answers more than anything else.  I want to know who, what, where, why and how before I choose her fate.

"I watched you murder someone," I tell her.  "What do you think I want?  What would you do if you were in my situation?" I ask as calmly as I can.

Her head shakes, her blonde locks swishing from side to side, some of them sprinkled with specks of blood.  "You don't understand.  You can't take me to the police.  I'll be dead by morning," she cries.

I'm not sure if she's meaning the police will kill her or perhaps someone else.  Someone else connected to the man she shot perhaps.

As her eyes fill with tears, I immediately feel sorry for the girl.  I don't know her backstory or why she murdered that man.  Maybe she had no other choice?

I put my hands up in a pacifying gesture.  "Look, just tell me what's going on, and then maybe we can both just walk away from this," I offer.

She stops walking backwards and looks up at me with big, blue, sad eyes.  "Yes.  Okay," she whispers.

I'm drawn into those beautiful blues, like two endless, tranquil pools surrounded by waves of tears, as she takes a step closer.  And then, with reflexes that surprise even me, I manage to block her knee that's aiming for my balls once again.  I grab her leg in midair and twist hard until she falls to the ground on her stomach.  Damn, all that sparring with Wraith in the gym really fucking paid off.

"Jesus, what is it with you and kneeing people in the balls, lady?" I hiss at her.  "You on a mission to stop procreation or something?"

I go to the ground with her, pinning her under me as she struggles like a wild animal.  "Stop!" she screams.  "Let me go!"

Fuck, I can't have her drawing even more attention than that damn gun going off in her hotel room.  I can already hear the sirens in the background racing towards the scene of the crime.  I don't need the police finding us and asking me questions I simply cannot answer.

Feeling like I have no other choice, I retrieve the syringe from my pocket, pop open the cap and stick the needle in the back of her neck, slowly injecting her with the sedative.

"I'm sorry," I whisper in her ear.

She struggles to the very end.  And then, she gradually goes limp under me.

Rising up, I stare down at her sleeping form and frown.

What the fuck am I supposed to do now?