Mikhail

14

For about a minute, we straed at each other in a stunned silence, the silenece condensing like a cloud, showering us in tension. Then finally, hurt and disappointment flashed in Montserrat's eyes before she turned and stormed away.

The disappointment in her eyes stabbed at me. I didn't want it to be there, and so I went after her immediately, not giving a damn that I was naked. She ran into her room and attempted to shut the door but I was quick to brace my hands against it.

Some seconds of battle later, she seemed to realize she couldn't match my strength and stepped away from the door. The door flew backwards, and I was thrown into the room.

“Montserrat.” I said.

It hit me then that thus was the first time I was calling her by name ever since we'd met again, but what could I sat. There was no innate reason to be here wanting to explain myself to her, and yet I felt a grating need to make her understand.

“What? It's not what I'm thinking?” She sneered, voice full of cynicism. “Ha, I guess you had a gun to her head then. That's why she fucking screamed your name to wake the dead.”

It was the second time I was hearing her cuss. The first had been in high school when she'd defended me against her then best friend who'd accused me of sexual harassment. With this, I knew she was very upset.

“I'm sorry."

“What are you even apologizing for?” She snapped. “It's not like I give a damn. There's nothing between us so you can do whatever you please for all I care.”

I suddenly felt an uncontrollable need to hold her. I couldn't resist the urge so I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her flush against my body. It felt so good; her standing fully clothe and me naked with my arm around her. Until she begun to struggle to get out of my grip.

“What ate you doing? Let go of me.” She galred into my eyes angrily. Her eyes had begun to water.

I held on tighter. “Look into my eyes and tell me that you don't give a damn whether I'm with another woman or not.”

She avoided my eyes, trying to wiggle out of my hold.When I still didn't let go, he returned her glare full force. “I can't. I fucking can't because I do care. Which is why I'm so damn stupid. Who catches feelings for a man who has never even said my name. Me, apparently. I can't believe I was stupid enough to let myself believe for even a second that you felt the same way.”

Whatever bit of control ud been holding onto snapped, and I captured her lips with mine. At first, the kiss felt forced as she tried to break free from me, but it soon turned sensual, our tongues sweeping out to wrap around and pull at each other, making me harden down there.

It was the slowest I'd ever kissed a woman. Filled with so much more warmer emotions. Emotions that made me want to keep holding on and never let GI, yet made me want to stay as far away as possible.

What the hell was I doing? Why was I breaking all the boundaries I'd sworn to never cross with this woman? I needed to stop this. For her safety, I needed to.

I broke the kiss, making the both of us gasp. She stared into my eyes, hers heated with list, and opened her mouth to say something.

I panicked. For some reason, I felt I wasn't going to like whatever she was about to say. Without giving hr a chance to say a single word, I pulled away from her and walked out of the room.

In the living room, I briskly gathered my things from the floor, wore them and left the house.

******

I gazed into the dark sky, the cold air whipping my face. There were no stars at all. I was sitting on a hill which gave a beautiful vista of the city, had been sitting here for the last hour.

I shoved my fingers into my hair, once again feeling like an idiot for how I'd bolted on Montse after our kiss. What was she thinking of me right now?

I wanted her badly. Lord knew I did, but would she be able to accept me for the man I was? I didn't think I wanted to know the answer.

It didn't matter why I did what I did, why I killed, that the people I killed were only murderers. To most of the world and her, killing those criminals made me just like them. As bad as they came. Sick. Psycho.

She'd indirectly made that clear the first day I'd briugh her to my house.

Montse and I were different on so many levels. She was like the lamp that could light up everyone's life, kind, full of optimism and every other good quality you could think about. I on the other hand was so full of darkness, cold, merciless. We were axavt opposites. But would I be willing to give up my life as an assassin for her?

I searched inside myself, and the answer was right there; yes I would.

It was a shocking revelation, and with that, I could non longer deny what Montse made me feel. I was in love and I was willing to change to be the kind of man she deserved.

Suddenly, I felt something round and sharp press against the back of my head. I didn't have to turn to know that it was the muzzle of a gun.

Shit! I'd never been crept up on without me sensing anything. Except today, thanks to my disconcerted mind.

I slowly raised my arms into the air to let the person k ow that I was unarmed. I'd left the house too hastily, forgetting to bring a gun. I atteoeted to stand up, but the person holding the gun pressed it down hard on my head.

“Don't fucking dare make a move.” He growled. I hated being told what to do but I had to be sensible. Better eating humble pie that having me brains blown out.

“What do you want?” I asked cooly.

The person chuckled humourlessly. “Isn't it obvious? You fucking killed my brother. I'm here to send you down to hell.”