Young Love Murder (4 page)

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Authors: April Brookshire

BOOK: Young Love Murder
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We’re both still staring at her, when I notice the guy casually glance over at us. He smirks and turns back to the girl. Leaning across the table, he says something to her that I can’t hear over the music and across the space. They both get up to leave. As she walks past us, she doesn’t even glance in my direction, which disappoints but doesn’t deter me. 

As they walk down the stairs, I lean over the railing again to watch her take the steps to the bottom. Her little black dress may not be as short as some of the others here, but I’m enjoying the view from behind. She has a great walk, confident and sexy.

Max is also staring. “I have to talk to her,” he pronounces. This is going to be a problem. At least for him it is.

“Max, look below, there are plenty of hot girls. Let that one go. She’s already taken,” I advise him, but I can’t help but feel the same way he’s feeling. It’s true, there
are
plenty of other options for tonight down there, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off of one option in particular. 

The girl and her gay best friend, as I like to think of him, make their way to the middle of the dance floor. As they start dancing to the track playing, I notice that there’s space between them. Aha! They aren’t together after all. If she was with me, I’d be dancing closer to her,
a whole lot closer
. She raises her arms over her head as she moves to the DJ’s remix of a Daft Punk classic. She then raises her eyes up to where we’re standing and I see her smile and wink.

Did I just see that right? Max asks me something along the same lines, “Did you just see that?”

“Yeah,” I tell him. “I’m going down there. She’s beckoning me.” Immediately, I walk to the stairs, hearing Max calling out behind me, his voice being drowned out by the pounding music. I don’t care if he saw her first. I don’t care if she
is
with some other dude. Her little flirtation was an invitation for more, and for me. 

Once at the bottom of the stairs, I spot the girl leaving the dance floor in the direction of the bar. I don’t know where the guy she was with went, not that I’m complaining. He just made things easier for me by leaving her alone for a few minutes. Really though, a minute is all I need.

Taking a seat next to her at the bar, I nod to the bartender. He knows me since I’m always here. It’s quite handy. I nod my head again in the girl’s direction. He knows what I want. She still hasn’t even glanced my way. This is getting frustrating. What’s up with that little flirtation on the dance floor then she just ignores me? Maybe the smile and wink was for Max. If so, it was a miscalculation on her part. Better set the girl straight.

I take a moment while she’s not paying attention to check her out discreetly. Her body is rockin’. Toned, but not missing any luscious curves. The black dress looks even better up close. Thin straps curve over smooth shoulders and accent the long graceful curve of her throat. The swooped front reveals just enough of her full, plump breasts to have my mouth watering for a better view and maybe a little taste. Dipping in to her small waist and flaring slightly at her hips, it ends in a loose flutter at mid-thigh. I’m digging her spiked heels, which showcase lean thighs and calves. 

Her olive skin looks like a light golden tan, but I can tell that it’s her natural skin color. She has glossed full lips that beg for me to kiss and nibble. I can hear them whispering sweet nothings to me,
‘Kiss us, Gabriel. Feel how soft we are. Please give us a kiss’
. It’s almost more than a man with my legendary self-control can deal with. She’s not my usual type, blonde and blue-eyed, but I think my new type is exotic and golden from head to cute little red toenails. 

As I’m checking her out, she finally turns her head towards me and lifts her eyebrows. “Are you done?” she shouts over the music. Her big eyes are a stunning golden-brown and surrounded by a thick fringe of dark lashes. Pretty. W
ant
.

“No,” I shout back, grinning confidently. As I’d planned, her attention is now solely on me. This is going to be too easy.

Just then, the bartender comes over with two drinks. He places one in front of me and one in front of the girl. “No thanks!” she tells the bartender. He just shrugs and walks off. Good man.

“What’s your name?” I ask her, figuring an introduction is a good place to start. 

She smiles knowingly and leans into me. “Anna,” she answers, leaning away from me again.
Come back.

“Aren’t you going to ask me my name?” I chastise her.

She just shrugs as if to say that it doesn’t matter. I’m about to lean in and tell her anyways when Max walks up and steps between our seats, blocking my view of her. He says rudely in my ear, “You’re an ass! Introduce me!”

“Fuck off!” I tell him, giving him a dark look. “I got to her first. Go find your own!” 

“Fine then, I’ll introduce myself.” He turns around then whirls back to me with a dirty look and stalks off. 

After he leaves, I can see what the dirty look was for. Spinning around on the barstool is useless. The girl is gone. 

The hot blonde I was checking out earlier stumbles drunkenly to my left. Catching her arm before she hits the ground, I help her onto the now empty barstool next to me. Once situated, she gives me a flirtatious smile, which I walk away from.

Annabelle

Jackson’s waiting for me at the entrance of the club. “How’d it go?” he asks once we’re away from the crowd. 

“Exactly as planned,” I confirm. “They’re both interested and I disappeared into thin air.” With one hand, I make a ‘poof’ gesture.

His laugh is deep, drawing the attention of a group of girls behind the velvet rope. It’s always disturbing when women check out my brother. “You’ve definitely set yourself up as a vixen. They’ll be both surprised and ecstatic when you show up at their school on Monday morning. This one time, in Amsterdam-”

“Don’t want to hear it!” I cut him off. “Every time a story of yours starts with ‘one time in Amsterdam’, it ends with me wanting to hurl into the nearest wastebasket.”

“Wimp,” he mumbles with obvious disappointment. 

“Yeah, yeah,” I tell him absentmindedly. As we walk to where we’re parked, I’m lost in my thoughts.
What was I doing telling him my name is Anna?
Sure it isn’t my legal name, Annabelle, but it’s pretty close. I never use any variation of my real name on jobs. Something about Gabriel made me want to. For some odd reason, I didn’t want him calling me a completely fake name.
What the hell is wrong with me? He’s just some guy. He’s just a job. Why the hell am I excited to see him again?

Gabriel

I can’t get my mind off the sexy brunette for the rest of the weekend. There was just something about her, an aura of mystery and secrets. Plus, she’s the only girl to ever
not
succumb to my immense charm. Well, there was that one girl, but that wasn’t my fault. She wasn’t interested in the kind of parts I possess. Where’d Anna go? I searched the club for her, but she was gone. So was the guy she was with. Maybe she left with him. The thought makes me envious.
Chill out Gabriel.
She’s just some girl, a girl that I’ll never see again.
Why the hell does that thought bother me so much?

On Monday morning, I pull into the school’s parking lot and join Max where he’s standing by his car talking to some of the guys. “Hey,” I greet him as if he didn’t ignore my calls for the past two days.

“Hey,” he practically growls the word.

“Oh come on! You’re not still mad about that girl on Friday night?” I tease, pretending a nonchalance I don’t feel.
Maybe if I go back to the club this weekend . .
. .

Max finally relaxes and smiles. “I guess not. I mean, she did disappear on both of us. Guess she wasn’t interested in either of us.” He’s always quick to forgive, no matter what I do. And I do piss him off often enough. But I have to silently disagree with his last comment. The girl was interested in one of us, I’m sure of it.

Just then, I hear the roar of an engine and turn towards it, along with everyone else in the vicinity. It’s a yellow Lamborghini Murcielago. Nice car. I’m still looking to see if I know the person driving it, when out steps the girl from the club.
Anna
.

A glance at Max shows me his delightfully shocked expression. Oh hell no! He starts walking towards her with that damn look on his face. The one where he thinks he’s in love again. I catch up with him and trip him. He falls to the ground, but catches himself with his hands on the asphalt. He’ll forgive me later.

Walking up to her, halting her in her tracks, I give her a friendly, “Hey! Remember me?” Her hair’s different from the wavy mass it was Friday night. Today it’s sleek and straight, but still begging for me to run my fingers through it, with red highlights glinting in the sunlight.

She looks up at me blankly, says, “No,” and walks around me to go into the building. Oh that’s a challenge if I ever saw one. Challenge accepted.

 

Chapter 3

Annabelle

That was actually funny. The shocked look on Gabriel Sanchez’s face when I pretended not to remember him from the club was priceless. I just wish I could’ve taken a picture and posted it on his Facebook page, labeling it ‘
Burn’
. Knock the cocky male down a notch or two. I’ve read his file and know that he’s quite the ladies’ man, a player through and through. Bet that’s never happened to him before, especially after flashing that expensive smile that daddy’s drug money paid for. Even if he wasn’t connected to the job, I’d remember him. He’s handsome and charismatic. I’ve never thought about it before, but if I had a
type
, he’d probably be it. Not that he needs to know that.

I’m not stupid. I know what I’m feeling for him is attraction. Not that it matters, because it’s not like I’ve never been attracted to a male before. Hell, I’ve come close to having a one night stand a time or two. Even an assassin can’t avoid teenage hormones. However, I’m usually in one place for such a short amount of time that I’ve learned to just brush off any attraction or interest I feel. In my profession there’s no time for something as trivial as a relationship. 

Simon taught Jackson and me to only rely on ourselves. He said that our parents’ love for each other was a weakness and that weakness is what got them killed.  Despite what Simon taught us, I do love my brother and I would trust him with my life. However, I’m not stupid enough to rely that deeply on any other man, including Simon. After all, my dad couldn’t save my mom.

If I had to attend high school for real, this school seems like it’d do the job nicely. The main building is a long, white two-story structure of stucco, with landscaping and palm trees surrounding it. A blue banner with yellow lettering says ‘Go Rams!’ over the glass doors of the main entrance. For a moment, I imagine myself in a blue and yellow-gold cheerleading uniform. Shuddering, I shake my head. I’d shoot myself first. Passing by the sound of music, I spot musicians playing scales on instruments through an open doorway to the left. I get another image in my head of me wearing a blue and gold marching band uniform, with a trumpet to my lips. That one makes me laugh out loud. 

Damn, these little dudes must be freshman.
It seems somehow wrong that they attend the same school as people my age, the fully grown humans. I jump defensively when a girl squeals to my right, throwing herself into the arms of another girl. A boy and girl walking up ahead are accomplishing it with the guy wrapped around the girl from behind, moving slowly as one unit.
Well, that’s retarded.
Wonder what would happen if I tripped the girl. Would the boy’s devotion extend to tumbling down with her?

I already scoped out the school last Saturday night, breaking and entering with Jackson. I’ve memorized all the exits, classroom locations, teachers and staff. I left weapons in hiding places throughout the place just in case. But it’s not likely that I’ll need them. With the help of a computer geek friend, I’ve been enrolled and scheduled in all the same classes as Gabriel and Max. They don’t have any classes together, but I have all of my morning classes with Max and all of my afternoon classes with Gabriel. If I’m to be forced to attend school, not a moment of the time will be wasted.

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