The Assassin's Bride Ch. 11

"You don't know what I'm suffering," Michael glared, stepping closer. He glanced over Gavin's appearance, his taut, pale complexion from nights of restlessness. "You're hurting, too. I can help you forget."

"Ethan, if you come near me with that thing, I will break your fucking neck!" Gavin snapped, and he meant it. "Drop the pin. Let's talk. Or you don't want her ashes?"

Michael hesitated and Gavin lunged. But Michael was on edge and wary of Gavin's skills. He quickly side-stepped the attack, using the syringe to keep Gavin at bay.

"I have never, ever seen you afraid in a fight," he mused, his dark eyes darting to the tip of the needle and back to Gavin's unsettled face.

"I had this specially formulated for her," he disclosed, observing the needle with a bitter smile. "It would have worked. She'd have forgotten what I'd done. We'd start again, and she would fall in love with me."

"You sick, manipulative piece of shit!" Gavin raged, rattled by an unfamiliar fear that he despised, unable to take his eyes from the syringe in Michael's hand. It would be easier if it was a gun.

"That's right," Michael gloated, reading Gavin's mind. "You might win the fight, but chances are you'll lose your memory." His pale face slightly lightened with wry humour. "We had some good times, before Tate died. Maybe we'll be friends again, and you'll never know she existed. I could convince you to come back-"

"If you pretend not to be irretrievably insane?" Gavin sweetly interrupted. "It'll take ten doses to forget how pathetic you are."

"It was you and Tate, before Carina..." Michael shrugged off the insult. "I miss her every second of the day. Maybe you're all I have left."

"If you think you can scare me into handing over Carina's ashes by threatening me with friendship, Ethan," Gavin warned. "You won't like how it ends."

"This," Michael held up the needle. "Is just a cherry on top. I'm going to get her ashes. They matter more than anything."

"You needn't be so dramatic," Gavin sneered. "You're not getting them. If my memory goes, you'll never locate them."

"I know you, Gav," Michael softly chuckled. "Always were a stickler for fair play, even if only by technicality."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gavin retorted.

"I know you brought her ashes." Michael paused as the words left him, his face slightly contorted with pain before he continued. "And I know you would keep them in plain sight."

Gavin's eyes flickered to a space behind Michael, before he pulled off a perfect expression of being taken aback by suddenly thwarted plans.

"All I need to know," Michael gently readjusted his grip on the needle, holding it like a knife. "Is where you've hidden them."

"Wait." Gavin stalled, racking his brains. If Michael got that serum into him, he was fucked. "Fine, new deal," he proposed, sweating with genuine unease. "Destroy the pin, I'll tell you where I hid the ashes. Then you fight me for them, no more tricks."

"Do you have any idea how much this cost?" Michael said flatly. Bitter grief surged through him unexpectedly, the grief of his hopes that were now impossible.

"I bet the revolver was more expensive," Gavin swiftly responded. "I'll see you get it back."

Michael's eyes narrowed. "I'll admit, that ticked me off. You don't even like guns."

"Just like ticking you off," Gavin replied, wondering how he managed not to jump out of his skin with anxiety.

Michael stepped closer, and Gavin held up his hand. "Stop. That won't have the same effect on me. I'm male, and twice her size."

"Meh," Michael tossed his head dismissively. "Maybe you'll forget a couple of weeks. I checked with Sam."

"That cretinous fucker holed up in a shitty basement?" Gavin snarled. "How can you still deal with that...!" With no words to express the hatred he felt, Gavin shook his head with disgust.

Michael's gaunt face formed something that slightly resembled his handsome grin from before. "I won't pretend I'm not enjoying this. It's the closest I've come to seeing you beg. Are you going to?"

Gavin grappled with his options. If he just handed over the urn, Michael wouldn't buy it. The last thing Gavin wanted was for Michael to suspect he was hiding something.

The most effective action would be to break Michael's neck, that way it would be slightly less disastrous if he was injected. He would wake up, startled and confused, but Carina would be safe. She would find him.

On this thought, Gavin nodded resolutely. "I'm sorry, Ethan," he said with genuine regret. "I wish things could have been different."

"You're not going to kill me," Michael smirked with disconcerting confidence. "What would Tate think?"

Before he could stop himself, Gavin made a critical error and allowed his mind to process Michael's question. Tate was the nucleus of the trio. He wouldn't let Michael die. Gavin knew exactly what Tate would say, in his irresistibly coaxing Irish accent. The predicted dialogue poured through Gavin's mind like an unstoppable stream of lava flowing down a hapless mountain.

You can't kill him, Gav. He's not himself. He's distraught. You know he never meant to kill me. I'd never take it personally, you know that, but I couldn't forgive you for this. What about all those jobs we did? It's Ethan. You can't. There's too much history. Don't do it, Gav. Please...

Gavin reared up with frustration. "This is what happens when you don't get any sleep!" he roared, more to his imagination than Michael.

Michael laughed, feeling the camaraderie. "I miss sleep, too."

In a chance move, Gavin darted forward, targeting Michael's hand holding the syringe.

Michael gave a shout of pain as the angle of Gavin's grip almost broke his wrist. He punched Gavin in the face with his other hand, and they went down together.

What ensued was a desperate fight between two strong, exhausted men. They rolled about, beating on each other, both getting a sick satisfaction from it.

In a dirty move, Michael grappled and managed to seize a smooth slate of cement. Gavin fell back, stunned when Michael whacked him with it.

Michael leapt to his feet and stared around for the needle. As Gavin stirred, Michael quickly ran to where Gavin's eyes shifted when Michael claimed Gavin would hide the ashes in plain sight. He reached over the grey brick wall, felt along the top and exhaled heavily when his fingertips brushed the cool, smooth side of the urn.

Gently tipping it into his palms, Michael's mind was far from the pain of the fight, distracted by the fact he held what was left of Carina. Though tempted to go to pieces, it wasn't the time. That indulgence could wait until he was in private. Clutching the urn, he turned when he heard Gavin behind him.

As Michael contemplated whether to place the urn aside and continue the fight, or gamble that Gavin wouldn't risk damaging them, he registered the look on Gavin's face.

The seconds slowly passed, uncertainty in the air between them, before Michael grinned knowingly. "Uh oh," he teased, the harsh tones of his face softened with genuine humour.

"No-" Gavin frowned, looking both dazed and alarmed.

Gavin unsteadily raised his heel to inspect it and collapsed, panting with fatigue. Michael stepped closer, watching Gavin urgently feel around the sole of his shoe, then his heel and up his ankle.

Michael's eyes glowed with callous amusement as Gavin writhed on the ground, blindly searching. Finally, he pulled the syringe from the back of his thigh.

"N-No..." he uttered, gazing from the empty needle to Michael's triumphant face. "No... Ethan...!"

"Yeah," Michael murmured, watching Gavin turn his dismayed attention to the sky, his eyelids unmistakably heavy.

"Ethan... Ethan, wait..." Gavin slurred under his breath, then his eyes fluttered closed.

Michael stood there a while, still holding the black urn in his undamaged hand. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips to the sleek lid, his features flexed with passion and grief as he remembered Carina.

"Let's go home, sweetheart," he muttered, feeling he could start sobbing all over again. Suppressing the urge, he wiped a stray tear from his cheek and approached Gavin's still figure.

"You might remember enough to come for her," Michael hoarsely spoke aloud, even though Gavin couldn't register it. "But it was different with Tate. You won't catch up with me, this time."

***

Twenty minutes later, Gavin tiredly sat up to survey the reddened horizon.

"Fuck me," he mumbled, looking down at his dirty, bloodied clothes. "Yeooowch!" he hissed, gingerly touching the blunt force graze across his cheek.

He jerked around when someone applauded from behind him.

"That was a fun spectacle."

Ralph looked very different to his usual mild appearance; dressed similarly to Michael, but with a mean-looking gun casually slung across his back.

Gavin exhaled, then cringed at the pain in his ribs. "You followed me?"

"I had to see this guy," Ralph grinned. "Couldn't let you touch base with a psychotic unprotected. You went easy in the fight."

"Not quite. It was nice to let off some steam."

"Didn't like the look of that jabber he waved about," Ralph remarked.

"Me, neither. If I knew you were watching, I'd have signalled you to take him out," Gavin replied, then continued on an afterthought. "I'm glad I didn't. Things turned out for the best."

"What was in the syringe?"

"Memory serum. I'm actually groggy," Gavin grumbled, infuriated that it was meant for Carina.

"Didn't know that was on the market." Ralph bent for a closer look at Gavin's face. "That's gonna bruise, real bad."

Gavin grunted dismissively.

Ralph straightened and nudged the empty syringe with his boot. "Glad he didn't get the full contents into you; I hate repeating myself."

"What?"

Ralph haughtily arched an eyebrow. "I can still shoot you, you know."

Gavin coughed and lay back with a wince. "You might have to carry me."

"Any excuse to get touchy," Ralph smiled.

"If you touch my cock, there'll be trouble."

Ralph laughed and stretched his arms above his head before bending to take Gavin's hand and pull him from the ground.

"So far," Ralph announced with clear delight, "I've sprung you having hot nasty sex, seen you cry, and watched you fist-fight over a woman. At this rate I'll be cancelling my Netflix subscription."

Weakly gathering his footing whilst adhered to Ralph's side, Gavin chose not to reply.

***

Easing through the door into the suite, Gavin lazily trudged toward the long kitchen bench, not caring about the dirt scattering across the shiny white tiles.

"Carrie?" he called, wearily dropping his keys to the counter. He grinned, hearing the sound of Carina's small feet rapidly padding his way.

"Gav!" she gasped, taking in his appearance. "What happened? I was so worried! "

"Ralph was patching me up." He flinched when she launched into his arms. "Easy, brat. I may have a broken rib, or two."

"Why did you... what happened?" she whispered into his chest, closing her eyes as his comforting warmth and familiar scent seemed to wash over her.

"I let him have the urn," Gavin sighed, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair before she leaned back to observe the stitch down his cheek.

"But why this?" She gestured to his bruised face.

"I had to convince him I wanted to keep it. If I just handed it over, he'd be suspicious. I also want him to think I'll come after the ashes the same way I did with Tate's."

"Oh." Carina nibbled her lip. "So, you let him win?"

"That would have been a dead giveaway, and too much for my ego," Gavin wryly answered. "He had a syringe. I emptied it, then stabbed myself with it."

"But what if he decided to kill you when you were down?" she exclaimed.

Gavin shrugged, relieved she didn't want to know why Michael had the needle in the first place. "Ralph was watching."

Carina sighed uneasily. "Gav, that was so risky, we should have just-"

"There's no half-assing this kind of charade," he interrupted, firmly cupping her cheek. "After the effort we've gone to, it can't all be for nothing. We had to do this properly."

"So...was he distraught by my passing?" Carina pried, coyly batting her lashes, sexy mouth curved to a malicious smile.

Gavin tiredly inclined his head. "He was a broken man. Even I was shocked."

"Good." Carina's pretty eyes burned with fierce satisfaction.

"We need to tread very carefully," Gavin reminded her. "Fate can be a bitch. If he so much as suspects we've done this, fuck..." he said with an exaggerated shiver. "If he gets the upper hand, there will be no mercy. I'm scared to picture it."

"That's not funny!" Carina insisted, burrowing into his chest. "I'll kill myself before he can touch me."

"No, you won't," Gavin growled, sharply tilting her face upward. "Don't you dare talk that way."

Carina pouted.

Gavin's hold on her chin tightened. "If he ever catches you, which he won't, then you fucking wait for me to rescue you. And if I'm not breathing," he widened his eyes warningly when Carina opened her mouth to object, "then I know you'll find your own way out. That's my legacy."

Gavin's hand stroked down her neck to slightly peel back the soft pink dressing gown, the colour reminding him of her nipples. "How's the bruise?"

"It's fine," she said indifferently, slightly shifting to let the gown droop further down her shoulder so the tempting curve of one breast popped into view. She smiled when Gavin's hand immediately closed over it.

"I was fucking scared, you know," he said huskily, his thumb tracing the silky peak of her nipple. "I didn't mean to be so rough in the tube. I know you worked hard to stay under for that time, but when you're nervous it's always a little less. And I thought..."

"I could have held my breath longer," Carina sighed, feeling her tension melt under his warm touch. "You're very clever, Gav," she shyly complimented him.

Gavin's idea was perfect. Though complicated to navigate, the outcome was effective in several ways. Michael would stop tailing them. Even better, he'd indefinitely run the opposite direction, thinking Gavin was chasing him.

But best of all, he would suffer intensely, incessantly, pining away over her death, the whole time cradling an urn of bleached ashes like a long-lost love. And all for nothing. It was more epic than any punishment Carina could have devised for him.

"And you're a vengeful little thing," Gavin mused, ruffling her hair while she gazed at him with stars in her eyes.

"And you're the best thing in my life right now," she purred, standing on her toes for a kiss.

"Mmm," Gavin groaned against her lips, gently drawing back. "Fuck, I need an ice bath. We'll tussle after. Gently," he added, grinning as Carina immediately began to pull at his clothing.

"I'll go on top," she stoically announced, as though making a sacrifice for his well-being, but her eyes gleamed with inappropriate intent.

"It's bizarre how fatigued I am, and suddenly I'm wide awake," Gavin remarked, letting Carina lead him to the large bathroom.

"You can nap after," Carina said imperiously, turning the tap on and making sure Gavin had a good view of her ass. "I hope there's enough ice left."

"What? I bought five bags!" Gavin exclaimed; his voice broke with incredulity.

"I made mojitos," Carina giggled, wriggling her bottom before straightening with another twist of the tap. "Just kidding, there's at least one bag left."

"At least-?! You're just doing this because I'm too weak to spank you!" Gavin glowered, eyeing her figure with a lustful gleam. "God, I can't wait to fuck you and pass out."

Staring mischievously into his eyes, Carina suggestively bit the tip of her finger, then pranced from the room to fetch ice.

***

Hours later they relaxed in a king size bed, lazily tangled with blue satin sheets. They talked intimately through the night, enjoying the quality time as a sweet-scented candle burned down from the bedside next to two unfinished glasses of red wine.

They spoke about travel, family, unique life experiences. Eventually, the topic turned progressively sentimental.

"You know what, Carrie?" Gavin murmured; his eyes unusually warm as Carina curiously shook her head, slowly drawn into his embrace. "You were worth all of this."

In the candlelight Carina's eyes seemed huge, glittering with vulnerability, and almost black with desire. Unable to voice her appreciation, she snuggled against his side, burying her face in his neck and wiping away the tears brimming to surface. A long moment passed before she felt composed enough to speak.

"When?" she breathed in a hushed whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"When did you know I was worth all this effort?"

Gavin gently smiled, feeling the damp of Carina's tears on his neck and knowing it would likely take years for the pain inside her to fade. But she was too strong to be defeated by heartbreak; it was one of the many reasons he loved her.

He smoothed his hand comfortingly up her back. "There were moments that twisted my detachment."

Carina eagerly waited, softly panting against his skin.

"When you chased me after our first meeting, I was intrigued." Gavin thoughtfully trailed his fingertips up the side of her arm. "When you confessed you didn't want Ethan dead, I came to respect you." Gavin kissed her temple.

"When I thought you were sleeping with Carlos, I couldn't fool myself that I wasn't jealous as fuck. And then..." Gavin murmured, his hand sliding along Carina's taut thigh resting across his hips. "When he touched your leg to stop you leaving the table on that yacht, I knew I was in deep. It was more than principle, more than a bargain between us."

Carina sniffed, wiping her eyes on the thick column of his neck. "I always wanted this."

"What?" Gavin grinned ruefully into her hair. "Some random guy to rescue you from a besotted stalker?"

"No," Carina shakily exhaled. "Just some strange guy who can handle my shit."

"Is there any man who wouldn't try?" Gavin laughed.

Carina playfully pinched his bicep. "It really helped that you knew Michael...I mean Ethan," she corrected herself. "I felt closer to you, like you could understand how it was."

"Believe me, his character shift was quite eye-opening," Gavin admitted, his gaze darkening when his searching fingers met with Carina's soaked pussy. "So, when did you fall for me?"

Carina took a long moment to seriously consider it. "I don't know. I wanted you from the beginning." As she remembered, a sly smile curved her lips. "I think it started in the woods, when you warned me not to mess with you. It made me determined to mess with you."

"God, Carrie," Gavin shook his head, then slowly pressed kisses down her neck as she shifted higher until her breasts were in his face. "You like to test a man's patience, don't you?"

"It's not that," she answered, her breath catching, distracted by his fingers sliding inside her. "I just loved the idea that I could get under your skin..."

"Only you would take a serious caution as an encouraging compliment," Gavin muttered, before gently sucking her nipple into his mouth and feeling her stir restlessly against him.

Suddenly impatient, Carina smoothed her hand down his chest toward his cock. Gavin's fingers curled around her wrist.

"Easy, wildcat," he smiled against her left breast. "Don't get me too worked up. I can't fuck you with my usual vigour."

"But I'm not sore," she argued with a wicked light in her eyes, moving to straddle him. Lining up with his erection, she held her breath and began to gently buck down on him, her hands supporting her weight on his shoulders to avoid putting pressure on his ribs.

"Oh, fuck!" They whispered together, both feeling the intense pleasure.