The Hitman’s Angel

“Did she help lure you here?” Lenin asks, his expression darkening further. “I am sorry, angel. Nobody deserves you.”

I tear my eyes off my mother and look at him. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.” His throat works. “They told you what I am?”

“Yes.” I come to my feet and go toward him. “But your past is only one part of who you are, Lenin. You showed me the rest and it’s beautiful. My heart told me to trust you and I’m so glad I listened.” I splay my fingers on his arm, soothing the tense muscles with a massage. “Let’s go find out who you’ll be in the future instead. Who we’ll be together.”

“I will be everything you need me to be, angel,” he vows.

“That should be easy.” I kiss his bicep, his shoulder, his mouth. “You already are. And you don’t need to kill anymore. You just need to love me. Starting now.”

Lenin collects the weapons in the room and with one final menacing look at the occupants, he guides me to the exit with an arm around my shoulder. I stop and mouth the word “goodbye” to my mother, but she’s staring blankly at the wall. I will still miss her, unbelievably, but it’s time to start my own life, with the man I love. I want to so badly.

“Come, angel.” Lenin picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist, snuggling my face into the crook of his neck. “I’ll take you to see the horses.”

“I love you,” I whisper.

“Ah, Margaret. I love you, too.”

EPILOGUE

Lenin

Fourteen Months Later

This is what it’s like to be content.

I never knew this feeling until now.

My angel smiles at me through the window of our house and I send her a wink before hauling back my axe and splitting a log in half. Who knew I would grow accustomed to rural life so quickly? Our days begin bright and early, but that suits me perfectly because I love being awake. Being awake means I have eyes on Margaret. It means I’m speaking with her, touching her. Sleep is nothing more than a means to rest so I can love her harder the following day.

After we left Baltimore, I was unable to relax until there was a ring on her finger to proclaim her as mine. Once Margaret took my last name in a civil ceremony, I brought her to a horse ranch in Montana, far from the memories of our old lives. She loved the place so much, I bought it for her in cash, along with a paddock full of horses, so she could have her pick.

In between caring for our eight-month-old twin boys, she rides her favorite mare through the green pastures barefoot, her hair in a dark, whipping wave around her beautiful, smiling face. The sight steals my breath every time, though I’m tense until she dismounts safely and is once again in my arms.

Speaking of which, I need her in my arms now. Badly.

Laboring makes me hungry for Margaret. Everything does.

When we arrived at the ranch, I could barely stop fucking her long enough to perform the tasks that make the place function. After she became pregnant with the twins, however, I was imbued with the drive to provide for my wife, my children, so now I must harness my never-ending need to be between her thighs, absorbing her purity and love. I have enough money to give my family a comfortable life, but I long to give them even more. So I work from dawn to dusk, always keeping an eye on my gorgeous wife through the windows.

The front door of our house opens and I let the axe drop, acutely aware of the sweat pouring down my face and bare torso. Aware of it, because my skin is extra sensitive whenever Margaret is near, looking at me. This time is no exception. She steps out onto the porch in her pretty yellow dress and hugs one of the wooden pillars, peeking at me from behind it almost shyly.

Ah, I see. Our sons must be napping.

I know what she wants. To play. My cock stiffens at the knowledge.

“Come, angel,” I call, crooking my finger at her. “There is something I want to show you in the barn.”

She looks almost nervous as she ascends the steps, her fingers playing with the hem of her dress, very nearly showing me her pussy. “What is it, Daddy?”

Without answering, I take her hand gently and guide her toward the red structure, located at the edge of the property. She looks up at me trustingly, even though Daddy is watching the ways her tits shake in the low neckline of her dress. And planning. “I think it is time for some new dresses, angel.”

She frowns down at her attire. “You don’t like my dress?”