Assassin (12 page)

He could check the old haunt they both frequented when they
were younger. With that in mind, Troy starts walking to the even rougher side
of town. First he has to find the hit man who killed Cassidy’s father, torture
out who hired him, and find that person. Revenge can be a bitch, but it’s one
that Troy is willing to cat fight with tonight.

It stinks.

He used to like the smell of raunchy flesh and stale beer,
but now it just reminds him of the times that were not so pleasant. He thought
they were the best of times when he was living them, but now he knows a sweeter
side of life. The side of life that involves a woman who actually cares and one
that might come to understand him some day. Troy wants to give that a chance
for a while longer.

“Robert Trenton!” Heads turn, his back stiffens, and Troy smiles
at his old name on the lips of a woman he used to frequent. Her dark hair is
teased into curls tonight, and she’s wearing green, glittering eye shadow that
makes her look like a stripper.

Oh, wait.
Troy thinks with a coy smile.

She’s wearing pasties tonight, which is a change of pace for
Jackie. She’s usually wearing nothing, but everything changes. Her eyes sparkle
when she sees him staring at her breasts, but what he’s seriously thinking is
that he should get himself tested. Not all women who strip use the back rooms,
but Jackie sees mostly nothing but the back rooms and barely anything of the
actual pole she’s
supposed
to dance on.

“Jackie, or is it Baby tonight?” Her lip quirks up at the
corner as she pokes him in the chest and swivels close.

“It’s always Jackie for you, Robbie. Are you here for a
dance?” She says this all quite loud, and then her voice drops as she turns
towards the wall. “You’d better get your ass out of here if you want your dick
attached after tonight! The higher ups are looking for you, Robert, and they’re
not happy
!” It’s flattering that she cares enough to warn him, but then
again, he did practically support her for over eight months with all the time
he frequented those back rooms.

“I was hoping you’d say that, Jackie Baby. Thanks for
letting me know.” He lets his hand move down to her hip to make it look as if
they’re discussing business, and leans in so that his lips are brushing against
her ear as he whispers over the loud music. “If you want to survive tonight,
get out.” Her shiver against him is not one of want, and she makes a whimpering
noise in her throat as he pushes her away.

Troy is not in the mood to spare casualties if it goes
south.

Two men eyeball him warily as he sits down at the bar and
puts down a ten. He’s going to need a few drinks for this, and it’s still going
to be rough. No matter how hard Troy tries, he cannot shake the feeling that he
shouldn’t be doing this. But how else will he ensure that they stop coming
after him?

But will this be enough to get them to stop?
He
wonders as he downs a shot of Yukon Jack. The name of the whisky makes him
almost chuckle.

“You have some nerve, Trenton.” It’s not the man he’s
looking for, but this one might know the whereabouts of his target.

“Why do you say that, Nate?” Troy’s fingers grip the tiny
shot glass as he stares at the last drop. He can never seem to get every little
drop out of the glass. He tries to use that thought pattern to keep from landing
himself in more trouble.

“You know there’s a hit out on you, right? Fifty thousand
dollars for your head on a silver platter, Trenton.” One of the girls makes a
startled noise when she sees the knife appear in Nate’s hands. It’s a
well-sharpened hunting knife, and one of Nate’s signatures, but this isn’t the
man who killed Cassidy’s father. Nate was the closest thing to a friend that Troy
had here, and the man is probably considering cashing in Troy’s head for fifty
thousand dollars.

“That so? Seems a little cheap, I’m insulted.” Another man
settles down on the left side of Troy with a pile of twenties in front of him
for the women dancing around the poles. He has no intentions of giving that
money away so easily. It’s merely a distraction.

“You’ve made business very hard for us, kid. Most of the
time, we’re getting phone calls about one of our own. Clients are afraid that
we’re all going to turn on them because of what you did.” The man’s deep timbre
washes over Troy and he turns with an expressionless face.

“Bobby, it’s so good to see you again. How’s your wife?” It’s
evident on Bobby’s leathery, scruffy face that he holds a severe grudge against
Troy. His lip is curled up in disgust and his sea green eyes cannot contain the
hatred behind a veil of friendship any longer. Troy knocks another shot back to
give himself something to do, other than smash the man’s face in.
This
is the man he came looking for. Now he just needs to figure out a way to get
him into the alley.

“I divorced the bitch for sleeping with your mangy ass. She
could have chosen someone much wealthier to sleep with.” For Bobby, it is never
a matter of emotional turmoil over a woman cheating on him; it’s a matter of
pride. He doesn’t hate Troy because he slept with the man’s wife. It’s because
it was
Troy
she slept with and not the mayor.

“That’s a shame. She gave one hell of a blow job.”
Unfortunately, goading a psychopath can be difficult. Bobby only nods once as
if Troy just stated a fact, and slides off his stool.

“You know we’re here to cash in on that offer, right
Trenton?” Nate slides off his own stool and twirls his knife once. A few of the
dancers have realized what is happening and crowded to the back by the glowing
Exit sign. Someone’s called the police, and the sirens hum in the distance as
Troy remains seated. They won’t kill him here. This is just a warning that
they’ll be looking for him, and when he’s not in the public eye they’ll strike.

“It’s nothing personal, kid. It’s just that you’ve forced us
to take the lowly jobs again because no one trusts us. They don’t trust anyone
to do our job for them anymore.” Bobby fingers the gun inside his jacket as if
he’s debating whether or not it will be profitable to shoot Troy on sight, but
Nate regains control of the situation and pulls Bobby back a few steps as he
passes. They’re fools to turn their backs on Troy, but they’ve forgotten how
dangerous he can be when threatened.

For now, he’ll let them leave. If he does this in a public
area with cameras and eyewitnesses, he might not be able to return to Colorado.
The name Jack Evans will not exist anymore, and the house will be destroyed.
Cassidy will be lost to him. So he’ll bide his time, but not for much longer.

Classic.

Troy lets his head hang as he pretends that he’s still
unconscious and listens to the babble of three men and one woman somewhere in
the dark room. It’s most likely not too dark for them, but the way the light is
shining down directly on his line of sight makes it difficult for him to see
beyond the luminescence.

It’s chilled, and he’s shirtless with chains wrapped around
his thick arms and twining down around the chair legs. The room is
uncomfortable for a reason. Troy recognizes one of the techniques a trained
killer might use to torture something out of a victim. Make them uncomfortable,
and then begin the process of mutilating their body. It’s not really a science,
just common sense.

“Someone
had
to have sent him! I want to know who
before you start cutting out his tongue, you idiots!” He doesn’t recognize the
tone, but he does recognize the inflection with words. Unable to help himself,
Troy starts to snort and laugh at the same time.

“And here I thought it would be Yukon’s associate or his
wife, maybe! But
you
?” His past is really catching up with him now. This
woman had crossed his mind more than a few times since he went into the witness
protection program, but he never suspected she would keep going with her
vendetta.

“Why not me, Trenton? I admit. I was foolish when I
attempted to hire you without more information. I guess the joke was on me at
that point. Haha Veronica Blanc is a blonde ditz! But who is foolish now, Trenton?
To think that you could get away from me!” He can’t see her, but he can tell
that she’s throwing her head back as she laughs. They’ve removed his weapon, so
he’s seemingly defenseless.

“You just couldn’t let it go, could you, sweetheart? Tell
me, was it the fact that your husband was murdered, or the fact that his
deepest, darkest secrets were strewn across the television screen for millions
of people to see?” As he’s speaking, there are a few clinks that sound like
stilettos walking across a concrete floor. He’s guessing they’re in a storage
room somewhere, and it’s two or three in the morning probably. Nate and Bobby
will either gut him or shoot him with his own silencer, maybe both.

The woman in her early thirties appears before him with a
sultry pout on her face. She’s a bombshell with breasts that are far too perky
to be real and a narrow waist he could wrap his two hands around and still be
touching them. Unfortunately, her flesh looks as if it’s lost the vibrant glow
from the last time he saw her, but she’s attempting to replace it with a fake
tan. She’s wearing a white pantsuit cinched around the waist with a thin, black
belt. Her blonde hair, which normally cascades down her back in ringlets, is
currently pulled up into a ponytail. It’s probably to keep it from swaying in
his blood when it’s spilled.

“Both, Trenton. Or should I call you Troy Red?” He doesn’t
allow the shock to show on his face or in his body. Its ping ponging around
inside, but no one can tell from his expression that she’s guessed the correct
name.

“You can call me whatever you want, just make sure it’s
slow. If I recall, that’s how you liked it last time.” Her hand comes up, and
she hits him across the face. An open handed slap placed just right can hurt
almost as much as a punch, but he doesn’t let it ignite the fury inside. Not
yet.

“Why don’t we have a little bit of fun first boys? I want to
hear him
scream
.” Veronica’s tinkling laugh contradicts with her words,
but he doesn’t flinch. Only the muscle in his jaw begins to twitch when they
slice into the tattoo of his niece. Troy’s endured worse pain than this when
his sister and niece were murdered. He can handle a few cuts and some bruises.

What he doesn’t see coming is the boot to the side of his
head that knocks him unconscious, throwing him back into his memories.

Olivia and Lilly have left for the evening, and he’s
sitting alone in his apartment. It’s a dark place with curtains keeping the
light from seeping in. When his sister and niece are visiting, he keeps the
curtains open so that they’re not suspicious, but he wishes his sister wouldn’t
visit. It’s dangerous here because he’s present.

The note in his pocket is still there when he checks, and
he stares at the neatly written name and address on it. He should burn the
note, but he feels the need to hang onto it. Troy lifts it to his nose and
sniffs once. The perfume the woman wore when she wrote this note smells like
lilacs, and for some reason that reminds him of something. Yet it stays on the
peripheral of his mind, unwilling to come forward.

There’s only one thing he can do to get this out of his
mind, and that’s find Jackie. So with a head crammed full of busy thoughts,
Troy swings on his only leather jacket and pockets the note again. The club is
not far enough to warrant calling a cab, so he hoofs it to the basement strip
club. As soon as he’s in the door, the woman with green glitter on her eyes
sidles up to him with a tiny grin on her lips. She knows why he’s here, and
she’s going to profit from it.

They skip the pleasantries of her dancing and Troy
immediately requests the back room.

“Rough day?” Jackie inquires as she takes his hand and
nods once at one of the bouncers. They’re not here to keep patrons from hurting
each other, but they do keep the ladies safe.

“You could say that.” Troy says with a heated voice. As
soon as the door is shut, he doesn’t waste time. Time is money in this place,
and he doesn’t like to waste too much of it here.

“Want to tell me about it?” Her gasp and the way her
tongue moves across her upper lip involuntarily makes him hard in an instant
and Troy answers her with a rough kiss. He doesn’t bother taking her clothes
off this time, and turns her around so that she’s positioned up against the
wall.

Jackie doesn’t normally allow her patrons to plow into
her as if there’s no tomorrow, but there’s something feral about Troy that has
her enjoying the encounter. He’s one of the only ones that make her feel
something while they’re fucking, and the poor girl is confusing that emotion
with love. Unfortunately, it’s not the same feeling that Troy has for her.

Cassidy lifts up the hay bail and throws it down the hole
for the men below to divvy it up amongst the horses. She wipes the sweat off
her forehead with her sleeve and narrows her eyes when one of the hands looks
up at her, worried. It seems only fitting that she’s working on a farm again,
but it doesn’t help her forget about who she is and where she came from.

“You look a little green, Cassie.” She almost got to keep
her real name. Thank God Moonlight took care of that for her. But why did the
bastard have to leave her in the middle of nowhere with nothing but men around?
She could use a little estrogen companionship.

“I’m fine, Roy. Just keep doing your damn job!” She puts a
hand over her mouth as soon as the quip is out, and takes a step back from the
hole.

Where the hell did that come from?
She wonders as she
turns around to grab another bale of hay. She’s been snippy lately, and she
can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. There’s also the fact that she
keeps getting nauseous every time someone makes coffee. Cassidy used to love
coffee, and now it’s become her mortal enemy. She’s chalked it up to the fact
that coffee in the morning reminds her of her father.

“Maybe you ought to lie down for a spell.” The older man’s
voice has her jumping and almost screaming. Cassidy quivers all over in her
boots and feels tears coming on as she tries to hold her breath. She’s been
more than jumpy ever since she found her father dead in the barn at his home.
Cassidy has almost lost her nerve over the past few days more than once.

“I’m fine, Vic. I just need a minute, alright?” She tries to
keep the quaver out of her voice, but it’s no use. A large hand comes down on
her shoulder, but she’s ready for it. Victor’s green eyes bore into hers, and
she sees the concern in them. It’s a shame she’s already tied up with someone
else in her thoughts for now. Or she’d give Victor a shot.

He’s a nice man in his late thirties, not too old for her,
who owns a dude ranch.

“No, I’m going to take you back to your quarters. You really
do look green, Cassie.” Without waiting for her to argue, he puts a polite hand
on her upper back and leads her away from the loft of the barn. Cassidy opens
her mouth to argue twice, but the third time she actually doubles over in pain
and groans. It’s been getting worse the past two days, and she’s afraid of what
this might all mean. The worst part is she wishes Troy was here to keep her
company.

“Cassie? Hey, do you need a doctor?” She falls onto her
knees as the pain overtakes her and proceeds to hurl all over Victor’s boots.
In her shame and embarrassment, Cassidy shuffles backwards as she tries to push
her blonde hair out of her face. “Someone call a doctor!” Victor begins to
yell, and the other farm hands come out to see what is happening.

She’s gasping for air as she tries not to vomit again all
over someone else’s shoes, but they’re all tremendously understanding as they
try to haul her to her feet and get her into the house. Someone informs them
that a doctor has been called, and Cassidy is placed in front of the toilet as
she wretches again.
At least it’s not on Victor this time.
She inwardly
sobs to herself as she struggles to breathe.

By the time the doctor arrives, her eyes are bloodshot, and
she has a funny feeling all throughout her body. When he asks her for a name,
she makes the mistake of saying her real one. When Victor’s eyebrows raise, she
clears her throat and manages to choke out the fake name. It’s too late. Her
cover’s blown and Moonlight Rogers will need to be called again.

In the meantime, the doctor begins to examine her while
Victor retreats from the room. Cassidy’s not sure if it’s the fact that she’s
vomiting or the fact that the doctor was starting to lift up the back of her shirt
to put his stethoscope to her back. He tells her to breathe deeply, and she
does. Then everything starts to fuzz at her peripheral vision until it’s
overtaking her sight, and the doctor manages to catch her before her forehead
hits the toilet rim.

“We need an ambulance!” He calls out as she begins to seize.

It’s been longer than twenty four hours that he’s been in
this room with the light shining on his face. Every now and then he passes out
from dehydration because the room is growing hotter and hotter. During his dark
episodes he’s left with his memories of the times that he searched for the
woman who hired him to kill himself.

This is one of those moments.

“You called me twenty six hours ago.” The payphone feels
slick in his hand as he leans against the glass. Phone booths are almost out of
style, but he found one.

“Yes, I did. Did you fulfill your end of the bargain?” He
can’t help the flicker of a smile across his face as he listens to the sweet,
feminine voice on the other end of the line.

“He’s disappeared, hasn’t he?” The woman takes a moment
to answer him, and he hears her hand over the phone. Someone else is in the
room, and he suspects she’s attempting to get them out.

“My apologies for the interruption. He has disappeared,
but how can I be absolutely sure that means he’s dead?” Troy glances at a man
walking past the booth with a rather large dog on a leash. It’s one in the
morning. So he’s suspicious of anyone outside at this time.

“This profession requires a lot of trust between the
client and the contractor. You trust me to fulfill my end of the bargain while
I trust you to fulfill yours. You can rest assured that I fulfilled my end, so
are you going to fulfill yours?” There’s a long silence on the other end of the
line, and Troy holds his breath. What usually happens in this case is the
murder is made public. Then the hitman gets his due while the client is
reassured that they’re not paying for a false murder, like this one.

“Where do I mail the rest of the money to?” Troy feels
his racing heart start to slow. He’s very close to figuring out which grieving
widow has hired him.

“Drop it off at the same post office with the same
address today at nine a.m.” Troy hangs up the phone abruptly and leans over in
the booth as he tries to contain his mirth. He’ll know who tried to hire him as
a killer against himself, and then he’ll take her out when he follows her home.
The problem will be solved.

Except there’s one issue with his plan, he’s never killed
a woman before, and he imagines it will not be easy.

“Robert, darling, it’s time for you to wake up and tell me
what I want to know. Who hired you to kill my husband, dear boy?” It’s not that
he doesn’t want to tell her because he cares about his old client’s
confidentiality. Troy knows that if he tells this woman what she wants to know,
he’ll be dead. He just needs a few more conscious moments to get himself out of
the chains.

“I told you. Tell me if Bobby was the one who killed my
family, and I’ll tell you who hired me.” Veronica’s white, gloved hand comes
down on his cheek gently as she narrows her eyes at him. She’s so close that he
can smell the familiar lilac scent wafting off her skin. And to think he
actually spared this woman her life when he had the chance to take it. He
should have shot her that day he saw her outside the post office.

Yet he had felt guilty about killing a woman.

“Oh, honey, you don’t want to know who really did that, now
do you.” She talks to him as if he’s an infant, and the sound of her cooing
voice makes him want to vomit on her pretty, cream colored pantsuit. Troy wants
to know what it is with her and these clothes. Sure they’re flattering to her
figure, but she has an obsession with them.

“Let me have another round with him. I’ll get him to talk
this time.” Nate twists the clean knife in his hands as he steps into the
stream of light. His lips are twisted up into a wry grin.

“No, you haven’t gotten a damn thing out of him! You’re
fucking useless! Get out of my sight before I have Bobby do to you what you did
to Robert’s flesh.” To emphasize, she puts a finger on one of the sore wounds
and pushes. Pain is something that he’s used to by now, so Troy doesn’t hiss
this time. He won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that it hurts due to
the infection already beginning to build.

There’s an awkward moment where Nate looks as if he’s
contemplating offing his employer, but the money must be too generous. Or he
just really wants revenge on Troy for making life hard for the other men of
their profession the last couple months. As soon as the door slams when Nate
leaves, Veronica turns her attention back to her victim.

“You promise you won’t lie to me if I tell you who did it?”
She asks in a singsong voice, straddling Troy’s lap and getting her clothes
dirty with the sweat and grime on his body. Her fingers tiptoe up his chest as
she chuckles sensually. If she doesn’t stop, he really is going to vomit.

“I promise.” He’s not lying, either. He feels the chains loose
against his arms as he bunches his muscles one last time. In one, swift
movement he’ll be out of them, and she’ll be dead. But not until he has the
confirmation that Bobby killed his family and Robert Grant.

“Get comfortable. It’s going to take a lot of telling to get
this all straight for you.” She makes herself supremely comfortable on his lap
as she puts a finger to her lips in thought. “Where to start?” She muses, and
then her eyes glitter in the light as she begins a chilling tale of revenge,
and stupidity.

“I first found out that you were the one who killed my husband
from an informant I hired, Nate. He told me everything about you, Robert. He
even gave me pictures of your little niece and your sister, and told me about
how you spoke of them all the time! It was kind of adorable to learn that you
had a weakness.

Nate was not fond of the idea of offing a young woman and
her daughter, so I had to find someone with a little more
grit
, you
know? Bobby seemed a perfect fit. So I hired you to kill yourself because Bobby
said that always throws a hit man for a loop. While you were chasing after me
that day, Bobby was murdering your sister and niece.
I
hired Bobby to
kill them, and he followed my orders.”

Troy feels his innards starting to coil with his rage as he
tries to keep a straight face.

“I wanted you to suffer, Robert. But I also needed you alive
and healthy so you could tell me who my husband’s killer actually was, the man
who hired you. I have my suspicions, but I don’t want to act until I have a
confirmation. It would be a shame to take down an innocent.” She studies her
gloved hand and looks downcast now that the fingertips are dirty.

“You want the name of the man who hired me to kill your
husband?” Troy asks quietly as his hands slip free from behind the chair.
Veronica doesn’t notice the slight movement of his shoulder muscles, or she
mistakes it for the beginning of a breakdown.

“Yes,” she draws out the word in a hiss as she gets close to
his face, and within a flash he has one chain wrapped around her neck while the
other is twirled around her middle with her arms tangled up. Veronica attempts
to scream, but no sound comes out when her mouth opens, and she gapes like a
fish.

“I’ll tell you who had your husband killed, Veronica, right
before your own life has gone from your body. I hope you two meet up in Hell.”
Her eyes are starting to bulge and her lips are turning blue, and true to his
word, Troy waits until her eyes flutter back in her head and he leans down to
whisper into her ear. “Your husband hired me to kill him, Veronica because he
couldn’t live with what he did for a living anymore. Not with his two beautiful
children and his caring wife. He actually thought you’d be better off without
him! I guess he was wrong.”

Her body goes limp, but for good measure he keeps the chain
tight for another minute before he lets go. Strangling someone is not a pretty
matter. It’s much messier and brutal than shooting someone in the back of the
head, and it brings Troy no satisfaction in knowing that she’s dead. It won’t
bring him any satisfaction in knowing that Bobby and Nate will soon be dead,
but as the old saying goes, an eye for an eye.

The death of Veronica Blanc was for his sister. The death of
Nate will be for his niece. And the death of Bobby will be for Robert Grant. One
down, two more to go.

Troy pulls up the chain and flicks the light off. He waits a
few seconds, and then he uses a torn off sleeve of Veronica’s shirt to unscrew
the bulb. Then he waits by the door patiently for it to open. It takes an hour
and a half for someone to open up that door finally, and the first one to walk
in gets a light bulb smashed in his eyes. Judging by the roar, it’s Nate.

Bobby tries to turn around in an attempt to flee, but Troy’s
hand snakes out and pulls him back by the shirt color. Nate is attempting to get
the glass from his bleeding right eye, but it’s no use. The door slams shut,
and they’re left in darkness with Troy on the prowl. The sound of a chain
trailing around the room sends chills up his prey’s spines, but neither one of
them move. That’s what he wants, and they know it.

“You were never a stone killer, Robert!” Bobby says into the
darkness. It’s obvious by his tone that’s frightened.

“I never had to be, Bobby, but I’ve had a lot of time to
think. I think it’s time for a career change. I rather like the thought of
ripping off your fingernails one by one instead of taking the traditional
bullet to the head hit man route. I think you need some time to think about
what you’ve done. You need to
feel
what I felt!” The chain comes out of
nowhere and hits Bobby in the face, effectively breaking his jaw. It’s amazing
how just one hit can bring a man to his knees, sniveling as he tries to keep in
his cries of pain.

“I was willing to forget that this all happened. I was
enjoying myself and the start of a new life! Then
you
had to come along
and pull it out from under me. Why, Bobby? Because you were jealous? Too pissed
off because I fucked your wife? Or was it the fact that I actually had a chance
at being something other than a monkey with a gun for hire?” Nate has gotten
the bleeding from his eye under control, and he inches for the door. He hisses
when his boot scrapes on the floor, and before he knows it, the chain is
whipping out to hit him in the chest. But Nate is not as slow as Bobby, and he
manages to grab a hold of the metal before it’s gone.