Young Love Murder Part 10

Maybe there is a way to stay with Gabriel. Those in my profession can't risk love, but if I wasn't in this profession I could risk it. Do I want to give up this life for Gabriel? Is he worth it? Yes, absolutely and completely.

I step out of the shower and dry myself off with an energized feeling. All I have to do is finish this job, then I can tell Simon that I'm done. I'll be free to be with Gabriel. I quickly dress in a denim skirt and tank top. When I enter the living room, Gabriel is sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels. Jackson wouldn't like the thought of Gabriel on his throne. My brother is probably wondering why I haven't texted or called to let him know that it's okay to come back to the suite. But I won't worry about that right now. Feeling somehow lighter now that I've made my decision, I jump on top of him. "Gotcha!"

He laughs, then gets a serious expression on his face and brings his forehead against mine. "From the first moment I saw you." Aw, how can a girl resist that?

I wrap my arms around his neck. "I love you, Gabriel." There's a freedom in saying it now.

His stomach rumbles, but he ignores it. He starts kissing me but a knock on the door interrupts us. Good, my man's hungry. Going to the door I answer it, expecting room service but see Jackson standing there. Wearing wet swim trunks, flip flops and a towel around his neck, he's dripping water on the hallway carpet. "What are you doing here?" I turn my head back and see Gabriel flipping through channels again, oblivious to Jackson's presence.

"Simon called," Jackson whispers.

I sigh. "He called me too. I'm doing it tonight."

Jackson looks surprised. "Really?" His skepticism is insulting.

"Yes," I whisper harshly, glancing back again to see Gabriel now preoccupied with a soccer game. Jackson's lack of confidence in me is annoying. He grins, turning around to walk away. "Jackson?" I whisper.

He turns back around. "Yeah?"

b.u.t.terflies flutter in my stomach as I tell him, "This is my last job." I quickly shut the door before he can react. Chicken s.h.i.+t of me, I know, but I'm not ready to listen to his lecture telling me that I'm being a stupid girl.

Leaning back against the door, Gabriel looks at me quizzically. "It was just someone asking directions to the ice machine."

Gabriel mutters, "Why didn't they call the front desk?"

There's another knock on the door and I pray that it isn't Jackson again, wondering if he heard me right. I'm relieved to open the door to room service. I even give the guy a big tip. Removing the metal warming covers, I see that Gabriel ordered a giant Angus burger and chicken club sandwich, both served with French fries. I'm guessing the sandwich is for me. He smiles gratefully when I bring him his plate. Grabbing a couple of Jackson's root beers from the fridge, we use the coffee table to set our plates on. Gabriel has switched channels to watch a surfing champions.h.i.+p in Hawaii.

Watching his profile as he devours his food, I think that maybe this could work. Not that I'd ever imagined living a normal life, but with Gabriel it might turn out to be even more exciting than the murdering business. Guess I'm stuck with the name Anna Walker. It could be worse. Oh man, guess I'm stuck staying in high school too, until we graduate in May. I almost choke on a bite of my sandwich at that thought. Gabriel glances over at me, grinning when he sees that I'm alright. With a glint of humor in his eyes and a quick kiss on my lips, he resumes chewing the bite he was working on, turning his attention back to the game.

Yeah, if I have to quit for anyone, it'd be him. I suppose he'll want to attend college next fall. I'm really not into the idea, but I saw a movie about kids in college once and it looked like it could be fun. There must be something I could study. Maybe there's some sort of college degree that involves weapons design or I could go into criminal justice. Take care of criminals the legal way. That'd be kinda cool, maybe. Though, I've never been very good at obeying rules. I imagine laws will be even harder to obey.

Once we've both swallowed our last bites, I tell Gabriel that I want to go to his place and watch another movie from his ma.s.sive collection. Before we leave the hotel, I grab a messenger bag and fill it with a backup plan. I still have the gun and silencer hidden in Gabriel's closet but, when possible, it's good to have a backup plan. A plan that includes an alternative method to commit the murder or the means for a quick escape.

When we get to his house, his mom and dad aren't around. We watch a couple movies in his room, both comedies, and by the time we're done, it's getting dark outside. Gabriel takes me with him down to the kitchen to scrounge some food out of the fridge. With a chef coming in to cook every day, the leftover options are restaurant-worthy.

As we're eating and Italian dish we warmed in the microwave his mom comes into the kitchen. "Hey kids," she says with a joyous look on her face. I don't know if I've ever had someone call me a 'kid' like that, even when I was a kid. Better get used to it, Annabelle, 'cause you're about to be normal. "Gabriel, your father's home."

"Again already?" Gabriel asks, obviously having his father home again so soon is an odd occurrence. At the mention of his father, my appet.i.te is gone.

"Yes, he asked that I bring his dinner to his study, since he has so much work to do tonight," she answers as she begins to put together a meal for Xavier.

Knowing that I need to get my job over with, I whisper in Gabriel's ear, "I'm ready for dessert."

Standing up so quickly that he almost knocks over the stool, he grabs my hand and pulls me off the barstool I'm sitting on. "We gotta go mom!" I laugh as he practically carries me up the staircase.

After we enthusiastically make love, I'm laying half on top of him as he yawns. "Put me to sleep the old fas.h.i.+oned way," he mumbles and dozes off. All this s.e.x is causing us to nap like preschoolers. I know that it's too early for him to be out for the night, so I quietly get off the bed and get dressed. Retrieving the gun and silencer from the top of Gabriel's closet, I pull the messenger bag over my shoulder. I slip a throwing knife from the bag and tuck it into the waistband of my skirt, underneath my tank top.

Xavier is overconfident when it comes to security inside his home. The place is surrounded by bodyguards outside, but in the house he's chosen privacy over further safety. While inside, he seems to only keep one bodyguard with him. Good for me. Bad for him.

This is just too easy. Even after the job is done no one will suspect me. After all, seventeen year old teenage girls don't commit murder for hire. Gabriel will tell everyone that I was in his room with him. It'll be a.s.sumed that either one of the security men killed Xavier, or that an unknown person managed to sneak into the house and commit the crime. The teenage son's girlfriend will never be suspected.

I feel a brief moment of guilt but quickly brush it back with thoughts of the horrendous crimes that Xavier has committed either directly or indirectly. I also think of Gabriel. No doubt a man like Xavier Sanchez would eventually introduce his life of crime to his only child, bringing his son into the family business. Gabriel is a good person and should be protected from his father along with everyone else.

I stand outside the closed study door, listening for the sound of anyone else that may be inside. The solid wood door is too thick for me to hear any noise from within. I twist the silencer on and s.h.i.+eld the gun from view with the messenger bag. Xavier is surprised to see me when I enter the room but his expression is welcoming. There's a bodyguard standing behind where he's sitting in the large office chair, wearing all black with a gun strapped in his shoulder holster.

Xavier smiles, relaxes back into his chair, wearing a white b.u.t.ton down s.h.i.+rt and khaki pants. "h.e.l.lo Anna. What-" Cut off by my bullet, I raise the gun and shoot his bodyguard between the eyes before he can react. The man drops back to the floor, his head smacking into a painting on the way down causing it to tilt diagonally. Xavier looks down in shock and begins to reach towards his desk drawer. Having already rifled through the room while I was here previously, I know what he's after and there's no way that's gonna happen.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The ba.n.a.l phrase works and Xavier reluctantly pulls his hand away from the handle. "Stand up slowly with your hands in front of you."

Xavier complies, taking on a baffled demeanor. "What's this all about? Why are you here?"

"I'm here for justice," I reply, pulling a tape recorder out of the messenger bag with my free hand while holding his gaze. I place it on the desk between us and press the record b.u.t.ton.

Xavier looks down at it, then at me questioningly. "What is that for?"

"It's just a little reinforcement, evidence. Now, we don't have much time, so don't try stalling. I want you to confess your crimes."

"Crimes?" Xavier gives me an innocent look. Innocent men don't keep their cool this easily after watching their bodyguard get a bullet to the brain. There's usually a little rambling, maybe a wetting of the pants, at least some amount of horror. Not that I deal with innocence very often, if ever.

"You can cut the victim routine. Now talk fast or I'll make sure that the same fate meets your family." I'm bluffing, of course. I'd never hurt Gabriel. Not his mother either since she's ignorant from what I can tell.

Xavier hesitates some more, so I shrug nonchalantly. "Fine, keep your silence and I'll just shoot you all the sooner."

Xavier stares me in the eyes and I know he can see the knowledge in mine that I am completely serious and he can't fool me with lies. Taking a moment to think over his options, he begins to speak. Most likely he's hoping to stall long enough for someone to come along and save his worthless a.s.s. But it's too late for that, because I'm already here. I'll take out any employee of his that dares to interrupt.

At first, he only admits to his lesser crimes, drug running and money laundering. The way he explains it in a 'no big deal' manner would make you think he was talking about running a red light. Wanting to move him along, I tell him, "More. I want to know about the murders." I can't believe this monster is partly responsible for bringing someone as wonderful as Gabriel into the world. Pus.h.i.+ng thoughts of Gabriel out of my head, I remind myself that I shouldn't be thinking of him right now. Focus, Annabelle, now's not the time for distraction.

When Xavier isn't forthcoming, I move the aim of my gun around, as if trying to decide which body part to shoot first. That finally gets Xavier to go into detail about the men and women he's murdered, or ordered to have murdered. He's an even bigger monster than I'd thought. I don't plan on anyone ever hearing this tape, but it makes me feel better to have proof that I killed the father of the love of my life for a good reason.

I interrupt his ramblings at one point, around murder number seven. "So you had the little girl killed?"

He holds his hands up in a helpless gesture. "Her father stole money from me."

"Oh yeah?" I ask. "I'm going to steal your life." You disgusting piece of c.r.a.p. His dark eyes narrow in hatred, and I know what he's thinking. He's determining all the ways he's going to hurt me when he gets his hands on me. Uh-Uh-Uh.

Next, I ask him to give a brief summary of his extramarital activities. And man, is the guy a s.l.u.t. "Got any illegitimate kiddies out there, Xavier?"

Yeah, he so wants to wring my neck right now. Tapping his fingers on his desk, he shoots me a dirty look and gives me a simple, "No." Eyeing the tape recorder, I know he's dying to smash it with his clenched fists.

Figuring that it's time to get this show on the road, I decide to wrap it up. "That's enough," I tell Xavier, turning off the tape recorder.

"Wait! There's more!" Xavier pleads, losing his criminal cool. He's desperate to hold on to his miserable life for a little longer, as they always are.

I tuck the tape recorder into my bag with my free hand. "You have thirty seconds."

"Why are you doing this?" Xavier asks instead of confessing more.

"It's my job. Twenty seconds."

"So you used my son to get to me?" Xavier actually has the b.a.l.l.s to act offended.

"I love your son. Ten." My finger tightens on the trigger.

"Funny way of showing it," Xavier scoffs.

"I could say the same of you. I'm protecting him from you. Three, two, one." I take precise aim, ready to pull the trigger. He closes his eyes in resignation. "Goodbye, Mr. Sanchez." In a split second my finger will end the contract. Sometimes a split second is all it takes to change everything. The door opens. Turning my head, Gabriel is standing there with a look of disbelief on his face. I still have the gun aimed at Xavier's head and quickly hold up my other hand in an attempt to halt Gabriel. "Don't move."

"What the h.e.l.l is going on?" Gabriel practically yells.

I look back at Xavier just in time to see him reaching for the desk drawer again. I pull out the knife that's tucked in my waistband and throw it, hitting him on the inside of his wrist. At the sight of the blood, Gabriel takes a step forward, but stops when I give him a look of warning. His eyes flash back and forth between me and his father, looking pained.

"Why are you doing this, Anna? Did my father do something to you?" I can hear the caring in his voice, even now, as he tries to desperately rationalize why the girl he loves is holding a gun on his father.

"Not me." I'm trying to find a way out of this dilemma. According to Simon's teachings, I should just shoot them both. Killing an innocent is reprehensible, so Simon would say to give him a nonfatal would. But this is my Gabriel we're talking about. "Your father has to die." I know my words are inadequate but it's all I got.

"Why?" Gabriel asks. A question I hear all too often from my targets.

"He's a bad man," I say pathetically. Make a decision, Annabelle.

Ignoring the knife sticking out of his arm, Xavier senses my weakness when it comes to his son. "Gabriel, she's insane. She already killed my security man. Her delusions have her thinking that I'm some criminal mastermind." Wow, he's good, looking so sincere, pleading with his eyes. Cleary it's only okay if Xavier uses his son, just not anyone else. That threat is just one reason why I have to finish this job. I can't imagine the turn Gabriel's life will take if I fail in this.

"I don't think, I know," I say through clenched teeth. Xavier continues to try to convince Gabriel of my insanity. I'm only half-listening, coming up with the only logical solution to the problem. Xavier is mid-sentence when I pull the trigger. Gabriel shouts out and rushes over to him. I stand there, debating. Gabriel crouches down over his father's body. Xavier Sanchez was dead before he even realized what happened. A quick death was better than he deserved.

Gabriel deserved better than having to witness this.

Right now, I'm thinking I deserve nothing.

Gabriel looks up at me with horror-filled eyes. In his shock, he's immobile. Not having the same problem, I walk around the desk, coming within a foot of him.

"I'm sorry," I tell him, right before I hit him in the back of the head with my gun. He crumples along with my heart. I crouch down now, touching Gabriel's cheek. Lightly kissing his lips and his cherished face, I whisper, "Love you forever, Gabriel." Feeling as dead on the inside as Xavier Sanchez is bodily, I get up and leave my heart on the floor.

Chapter 14.

Gabriel Waking up, my head is throbbing. And I must have drooled in my sleep because my face is wet. I blink open my eyes and see that I'm lying on the floor in my dad's study. How the h.e.l.l did I get here? I wipe the drool off my face, but my fingers come away red. What the h.e.l.l?

Then it all comes cras.h.i.+ng back. Anna, my father, a knife, a gun. Anna coldly shooting my father in front of me. I squeeze my eyes shut, praying that it was all a nightmare. I open them, sit up and see that it wasn't. My father is spread out face down on the floor next to me. Dead. It's his blood on my face.

One side of my face is covered in my father's blood. Blood that's pouring out of his head. His head that has a bullet hole in it. A bullet that came from a gun that my girlfriend fired.

Why?

I think this is what people mean by someone going into shock after a traumatic experience. I must be in shock. I'm way too calm right now. Numb. I should be fainting, puking my guts out, something.

My girlfriend, who I love more than anything in this world, just murdered my father. There has to be some sort of explanation for this. There is always a reasonable explanation for a guy's girlfriend killing his father. Isn't there?

I think about turning his body over. Better not. Better preserve the crime scene. Of course, I've been lying in the middle of it. That can't be good. I really shouldn't be this calm. I should scream. Later.

I notice that the knife Anna threw at my father's wrist is gone. More blood coming out of that wound too.

My girlfriend can throw a knife like a ninja.

My girlfriend owns a gun with a silencer.

My girlfriend can knock a guy out in one punch.

Every eccentricity that I know about Anna is running through my head.

My girlfriend sometimes wears knives strapped to her thigh.

My girlfriend can drive a car like James Bond.

My girlfriend lives by herself at a hotel suite and I've never seen her parents around.

My girlfriend a.s.sociates with supposed Russian bodyguards who can afford Lamborghinis.

My girlfriend was a virgin who had already been taught s.e.x tricks from a French Madam.

And, oh yeah, my girlfriend is obviously an expert marksman because she shot both my father and his bodyguard in the same exact spots on the forehead.

Who the h.e.l.l is she? What the h.e.l.l is she?

I am way too calm right now. I am definitely in shock. Everything feels so unreal, like it's not really happening. Like I'm watching it happen to someone else. Maybe I'm dreaming. Still sitting on the ground next to my father's body, I feel it's best to stand up. I have blood on my clothes. My socks are now soaked in the blood I'm standing in.

Turning around in a daze, I walk out of my father's study, leaving a trail of b.l.o.o.d.y footprints behind me. I somehow make my way through the hallway and down the stairs. I can hear my mother humming. I follow the sound, finding her in the living room arranging pink and red flowers in a vase. She looks pretty today, wearing a green dress.

"Mom?"

She doesn't turn around from what she's doing, answering, "Yes, honey?"

"Mom!" I shout. I think the shock is starting to wear off.

She turns around and screams, covering her mouth with one hand. "Gabriel! Are you okay? Where are you bleeding?"

She rushes over to me with a look of motherly panic on her face, wanting to check for injuries. I hold my arms out to ward her off. "I'm not bleeding. You need to call the police. Someone shot dad and one of his men." By the time I'm done speaking my entire body is trembling. It's starting to sink in.