Punching Bag

| 4 |

Two days later another car is sent for me.

The driver walks me to the front door of Townsend's place and lets me in, then leaves me to myself.

This is the first time I've been left alone to wander the house. I take my time going down the halls, peeking into whatever rooms come into view. There was an office I'd just walked past with several people standing around a table with papers on it. They merely gave me a glance before carrying on with whatever they were doing.

I make my way deeper into the house before finally making out Townsend's voice.

"It is not something I'm going to even contemplate helping you with until we get the archives, I have made this very clear to you Elizabeth."

Elizabeth? Who is he talking to? I continue my way down the hall, stopping just before the entrance to the main living room. I peak around the corner and see Townsend sitting frustratingly in one of the leather chairs, the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone. There's no one else in the room.

"I know but if you'd just listen to me, I have the confirmation that Reddington is N-13. He is the reason your family is dead, the reason that you can't sleep. Surely that is enough for you to want him dead!"

I try to get a closer look. He's on a video call. It's Elizabeth Keen. I saw her all over the news with Reddington. She was a fugitive running and hiding with him. Why does she want Reddington dead now?

"I think you'll find that if you continue to bring my family into conversations YOU will be the one to end up dead Elizabeth." It sounds like he ended the call. I hear him sigh and the sudden noise of glass smashing not too far from me.

Maybe it's stupid of me but in his vulnerability I gravitated towards him, coming out from my hiding spot behind the wall.

"Was that Elizabeth Keen?" I ask shyly.

He removes his hands from his face and looks at me. Clearly startled, he didn't know I was here.

"Yes Cora, it was."

He answered me, and actually told me the truth.

I continued walking closer to him.

"I heard the news story a while back about her when she was on the run. She worked with the FBI. Is she dirty?" It was brave of me to ask, to pry into his private business but I felt comfortable doing so. It was the last thing I should feel seeming he beat me up a couple days ago.

He leans further back into the chair, one of his arms propped up on the arm rest, his legs crossed. God he looked... Good.

"That is a long complicated story not for right now. We have similar interests that's why we're talking."

"I understand." I nod softly.

It's silent for a moment as he studies me. I see his eyes fall over my entire body. Up and down twice. I don't miss how he adjusts in his chair, getting more comfortable.

"Cora, I have one more meeting to attend to and then we can talk. This meeting needs to be private do you mind?"

The way he looks at me has me hypnotised. Without any consideration or consciousness I agree.

"Of course. I'll step away." I can feel the heat of his stare follow me out the room. Once I'm free of him I finally take a deep breathe.

What the fuck is happening to me?

I have never in my life been so altered by someone's presence. So affected by someone's movements and expressions. His voice...

Townsend is a psychopath. A murderer. A drug and weapons smuggler. He's fucking crazy.

I'm here to do a job. The information I've just learned is exactly what Reddington will want to know.

Using the moments I have alone, I end up finding the library. I enter and close the door behind me, and hide myself in between two rows of bookshelves.

I decide to call Reddington.

After a few rings he answers.

"Ah Dana! I've been so anxious to hear from you!" Reddington is the weirdest crime lord I've ever met. He's always so warm and enthusiastic. I had no issues giving him my real name. Clearly my name is fake for Townsend's case.

"Hello Red. I can't talk for long but I need to tell you some info while it's still fresh."

"Of course. Do tell." He invites.

"I'm at Townsend's right now. He was on a call with Elizabeth Keen."

He stays silent, so I continue.

"She said she knows your N-13. She wants you dead. She wants Townsend to help. But he won't until he gets the archives. Keen tried to encourage him by bringing up his family. She said you're the reason his family is dead. Although Townsend didn't appreciate Keen doing that. He threatened her then hung up on her."

"I see. Thank you for the information. You've been more helpful than I think you imagine." He praises.

"Is there anything else you need from me? Anything specific?" I ask.

"Not at this point in time. Keep up the good work."

"Okay. Sure. I'll speak to you again soon."

I hang up the phone and put it into my back pocket.

I barely have the chance to turn around before a hand is on my throat and I'm slammed into the bookshelf behind me.

It's Townsend.

Both of his hands grip my throat firmly. His body pressed into mine makes it impossible for me to move.

He heard. How much did he hear? I've made a huge mistake. What was I thinking? Calling Reddington with Intel when Townsend was in a couple of rooms over?

"Neville I -" I begin to try to explain. To try and lie to cover my ass but he cuts me off.

He leans into me, his lips brushing against my ear.

"Who was on the phone Cora?" He stays there still. I can feel his breath on me.

"It was my boyfriend." I whisper out. It was the first thing I could think of on such quick notice. If I hesitated, he would've known I was lying.

He breathes in deeply. Is he... Smelling me?

"A boyfriend?" He whispers in my ear, sending chills down my body.

"Yes."

His hands loosen, they aren't holding my neck tightly anymore but he keeps his hands there. I breathe in relief. He's calmed down.

"What could this boyfriend be needing from you?" Holy shit I got lucky. He only heard the end of my conversation.

He brings his head up, our faces only inches away from each other.

It's only at this moment that I feel him. I feel him everywhere. His hands at my neck. His fingers brushing my jaw. His forearms along my chest, grazing my breasts. One of my legs in between both of his. His erection. Firm. Big. Pressed against my thigh.

My whole body stiffens, my breathing turning into panting. My body reacting instantly. Reacting to him. Needing him.

"We've been arguing lately. I was asking what he needed from me, to fix it." How I managed to string together a sentence right now is beyond me. It has to be the adrenaline. The fight or flight. My body knows he's dangerous. But it wants him anyway.

Without realising, I moved. I pressed my body towards him. Desperate to get closer. His erection glided slightly up my leg. My heat getting more friction against his leg. A deep breathe that could have passed as a moan or a whimper passed my lips automatically.

At this he instantly moved one of his hands to hold beneath my chin and force my head up slightly. To be looking directly at him.

I can see it in him. His need. But he doesn't give into it like I wish he would.

He slams me back again against the shelves. My heading throwing back and hitting the book behind me, aching in pain.

He walks away.