These women raised me with love and care, but they're very aware of the lack of masculine role models in my life. Deep inside, Mom wonders if I'd be healthier now if I had a dad growing up. If only I had a father to roughhouse with me as a kid, I’d have shrugged off the abduction and torture.
As silly as I know her fears are, I don't mind using them against her when necessary. Right now with evil fuckers threatening my life and family, I'd use any trick to get the professionally scary people to stand between me and the threat. Despite her size and beauty, Saskia is terrifying.
Before she disappeared into the bedroom to unpack, we met briefly. Her gaze sized me up, dissecting my every weakness before dismissing me as unworthy. I'd never felt more pathetic.
Saskia might not be warm and cuddly to have around the house, but logic dictates she's dangerous. In her line of work, she's faced bigger opponents. Somehow, she won. I found her as fascinating as I did scary.
"If one of the freaks breaks onto this property, a retired cop will think about laws," I say when they remain silent. "Do you really think Saskia will care about following procedures?"
"I bet she cheats in fights," Mom mutters, grinning at me. "I want someone sneaky and ruthless."
Nell balls her hands into fists and shoves them into her jean pockets. Nell grew up with a cop father and thinks the police are the answer to problems. If someone steals my car, I agree with her. When freaks want to sacrifice me to their demon god, I'll happily hire the people with the biggest guns and fewest morals.
Leaving them to whisper, I walk through the house to the back room where Saskia is staying.
Despite my size, I'm a rather quiet man. I occasionally scare the shit out of Nell when I appear behind her. Peering into the spare room where Saskia unpacks, I wonder if she's good enough to hear me. I don't get my answer because she doesn't react to my standing at the doorway, yet I sense she still knows I'm there. Either way, I watch her quietly for a few minutes.
Her thick red hair hangs loosely down the back of her blue and white striped shirt. I take in the sight of this petite woman and try to imagine her taking down anyone, let alone a full-grown man. Too fascinated by her size, I don't notice she's turned and is now watching me too.
"I wanted to see if you need anything?" I ask once I'm aware I've been caught being an idiot.
"I'm fine. Thank you," she says, strapping a gun holster to the loop on her jeans. "Are you frightened? Would you like me to make a sweep of the property?"
Narrowing my eyes at her, I wonder if she's always this rude to people. Based on how she narrows her eyes at me, I suspect she's amused by my irritation.
"Thank you for your concern."
"It's my job."
We study one another, and I wait for Saskia to insult me again.
She smiles slowly. "Is there something else you wanted?"
"Besides being friendly. No, I guess there wasn't."
Saskia watches me leave, and I feel her gaze long after I know she can't see me.
I walk into the living room, feel restless, and end up on the front porch. Why do I care if she thinks I'm pathetic? Her job is to protect me. I should expect her pity, yet I'm angry at myself for not standing up to her. Yeah, how would that have worked? Would pumping a few hundred pounds in the weight room impress her?
"I'm an idiot," I mutter, watching Marx's car pulling down the road.
I'd like to say he's my friend. He knows many of my secrets, even things I've never told Mom or Nell. Though he thinks otherwise, Marx doesn't know them all. Somehow, we're close yet not friends.
"What kind of badass did you end up with? Is he huge?" Marx asks, stepping onto the porch.
"It's a she."
"A girl?" he asks like a horny teenager. "Think she's a killer?"
I frown hard at him. "Keep your voice down."
"Why?" he says, smiling. "Think she'll kill me?"
Remembering Saskia's cold eyes, I doubt she'll need to kill an excitable dweeb like Marx. A cutting comment followed by her stare, and he'll simply wet his pants. While my jeans remained dry in her presence, I'm still kicking myself for lacking the balls to stay in the room and force a conversation.
4
Saskia
Embracing the Monster in the Mirror
I've crossed moral lines in my life and done violent things to the human body. I've hunted people like prey, leaving me to wonder if I still have a soul.
I refuse to live with regrets. My crimes are mine, and I accept them. The people I harmed do not haunt my nightmares. Sleep never escapes me because of a guilty heart. I am at peace with who I am and what I’ve done.
Yet I find myself suffering from the illusive sense of regret when considering how I spoke to Brad. Worse than how I treated him, I'm horrified about why I was so rude.
I'm lusting after my client!