The Killers Freedom

Chapter Two: Don't Let Him Take Me

I arrived back at my apartment shortly after receiving all the documents I needed for my next job. I hated that he called them jobs because it was always the same thing. Research the target, find them, kill them and let Stryker's men clean up my mess. This time is no different. I grabbed a bottle of sparkling water, a bag of popcorn and the files and walked over to my couch to begin reading whose life I was ending in the next twenty four hours.

With all of the money I make I'm not allowed to spend it on a nice apartment or house. I have to live under the radar, invisible to everyone around me because of what I do. My apartment, if I could even call it that, is an old small, abandoned factory that used to produce truck parts. It sits in the middle of a forest which is owned by no one other than Stryker himself. I don't think anyone other than myself and the men who always drop off the paperwork to me have stepped foot in here over the last thirty years.

The perfect place to stay invisible.

I have managed to create a small livable space on the upper level by bringing in furniture and built a small wall between what I call my living room and bedroom. It's not much but it works for what I need otherwise I stay at cheap motels only paying in cash under a fake name every time I'm on an assignment.

Jaxson Denmear, was the name on the front of the files. I flipped through the pages learning everything I needed to know about this man, his strengths, weaknesses and everything in between.

Jaxson, forty-five years old, he's much younger then the men that they typically send me after, is five foot nine with a slender build. He has blonde hair and brown eyes and resembles a stereotypical computer geek. Wearing black glasses perched at the tip of his nose and all the pictures they've attached he has a thing for dark blue jeans with a plain colored button up. He just started working at a company that fixes computers, hit the nail on the head with that one didn't you, I mentally high-five myself.

Reading through his file and becoming familiar with the man I will be meeting tomorrow I start to get curious on who would pay such a large amount for someone like him. What did this man do that is worth forty thousand dollars for his life? Specifically delivered in person, to Russia, in two days? Sipping on my water and popping a handful of popcorn in my mouth I get to the last page in the file, the most important page as far as I'm concerned because that's where my payday comes from.

As quick as I flipped the page I immediately opened my mouth in shock, the popcorn spilling onto the blanket covering my legs and dropping onto the wooden floor. It can't be, this isn't right, I have got to be dreaming. I was told I would never come face to face with this man ever again and yet here his name stares back at me like punishment for my outburst earlier.

Joseph Volkov.

Joseph was a man I used to train with many years ago before I was sent out on my own. Before I became the monster I am today. He's the most beautiful human I've ever laid eyes on. He's my height, five foot eight with chocolate brown hair that he lets grow out longer on the top so he can comb it over slightly. His eyes are the color of sapphire, intense and demanding. Muscles and tattoos take over nearly every inch of skin exposed from his clothing and his deep voice sends me into a trance when he speaks.

But I don't have time for emotions and feelings in my line of work. Those thoughts stay deep inside my mind.

But I hate this man and as much as I would do anything to get him in bed, he's fucked me over one to many times stealing my money and helping track me down when I attempted my fist getaway. The ugly scar across my stomach flashing in my head as I keep staring at his name.

So why would I be tasked with his job? Punishment is the only thing I can think of.

I let my mind wander as I put the files down on my coffee table and walked back to my small kitchen area to figure out what I should make myself for dinner. I have two days to complete this. Two days to find him, lure him, kill him and fly to Moscow. Why me? Why such short notice and why Joseph?

My kitchen was small, had everything I needed and nothing more. It is set in the corner of the upper level of the factory and was attached to my living room. My sink was below a window with a small counter space between that and the stove which was off to the right. On the other side of the sink was another counter on which sat a microwave and a small knife rack. My refrigerator was next to that counter and I only had one shelf that held a few plates and bowls and two cups. This kitchen always made me sad, I've always wanted a huge space to cook in. To create beautiful food in a space that I love. Instead I'm stuck here, in a small space living everyday alone and angry.

Finishing up dinner and doing the dishes I sauntered over to my bed. It was the only thing I looked forward to at the end of the day. It was a piece of heaven made by the Gods. It was as if I plucked a cloud out of the sky and slept on it every night. Encasing me in warmth and softness letting me escape my reality if only for a few hours to dream of what my life could have been had Stryker not taken me from my family all those years ago.

I let myself fall asleep knowing these next few days will come too fast and sleep will come too little. Praying these nightmares don't consume me again.

"Momma!" I screamed as I was being pulled from her arms, "Momma please don't let him take me! Please!" Tears poured out of her face as she grabbed her chest in pain needing help to even stand, "please I don't want to go!" My voice cracked and liquid drained from my nose and eyes.

She held one arm out in my direction trying to get me to come back to her. And I fought and screamed wanting to be safe in those arms again.

The man took me away grasping me tightly by the waist throwing me over his shoulder. I was being sold to pay off my Fathers million dollar debt to Stryker. Debt I had no part of but would cost me my freedom. My life.

"I love you Betty! I love you so much please don't ever forget us," she gripped my Fathers chest and buried her head deep into his jacket as he rubbed her back and let himself silently cry.

"I will be good please don't let him take me! I'm sorry if I was ever mean, Momma please let me stay!" It was too late, my small body collided with the leather seat and the door slammed shut next to me.

Their faces are always impossible to make out but their voices stay the same.

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Double update to start the book off!

Thoughts on Stryker?

Will update soon with another chapter

-H