On Forgetting Ch. 05

He pounced on her, and they rolled across the bed. They play wrestled, limbs entwining and bodies meeting until Connor took advantage of his size and pinned her down. He gazed down at her, his hazel eyes darkened to liquid chocolate with desire. "I think," his lips brushed against hers. "That a tongue lashing may be in order." Langdon's breath caught in her throat as his lips descended on hers.

~o~

Paul stared at the rapidly waning level of beer in his pint glass. There was nothing like a shit day at work to make him want a drink, but today's need extended beyond work and beyond want. He needed to drink until he couldn't feel feelings. He signalled the bartender, and a few moments later, a glass of whisky appeared beside his beer.

He jumped as a hand landed roughly on his shoulder. "Did you get it done?"

Paul frowned and glanced around the dim snook he had settled into. No one was near enough to hear the conversation. He took a deep swig of beer before speaking. "It doesn't need to be done."

The man slid into the seat opposite him, glaring. "Of course it needs to be done."

Paul shook his head. "I was there, she doesn't remember a thing. She's down more than a few days, man; it's months."

The man leaned forward, his size intimidating even to Paul. "I don't care what she does or doesn't know. People remember things, and don't want her alive long enough to remember." Paul opened his mouth to object, when he felt the muzzle of a gun press into his stomach. "And I assure you, if she stays alive you won't. Do I make myself clear?"

Paul nodded quickly and felt sweat breakout along his forehead. "Crystal."

The man tucked the gun back into a coat pocket and rose, straightening his coat with a brisk motion. He nodded once to Paul and strode casually from the pub. Paul waited for the door to close in the man's wake before releasing a pent up breath. "Shit," he muttered, and drained the glass of whisky.