Page 31 of Crushed
“You need to be prepared for a future when I’m not around. You need to do this job the right way. For me.” She motioned around the room. “Show me what you’ve learned. Give me that comfort. I know you’re capable, but I wantyouto have that confidence too.”
It was hard to hear those words. She had always taught me that an assassin needed confidence, that insecurity was part of how a consultant lost themself in an assignment, letting their true self show through the cracks. An assassin, or a consultant, had to have faith in themselves, at least on the outside.
And Lizzy didn’t believe that I had that confidence in myself.
But it was hard to think of a world where Lizzy wasn’t there. There were so many people that I didn’t trust, and Lizzy had acted as my guide through that uncertainty. What would I do without her?
I didn’t know the answer to that, but I knew what I had to do.
I would break through Cormac’s walls. I would convince him to lower his defenses. I would find his weaknesses, and I would show Lizzy that I was capable of completing a mission on my own. I would prove to myself that I was confident and capable, because that’s what Lizzy needed me to do.
It’s what I needed to do. For myself.
We stayed like that for a while, sitting in the silence. Eventually, I went downstairs and got an ice pack and a snack, bringing them back up to Lizzy. She read a book in bed and I decided to stay the night, in case she needed anything.
My old bedroom down the hallway smelled stale, the way a room is when someone hasn’t been in it in a while, but the staleness was familiar. There were still movie and rock band posters on the walls, and the bed was a queen, bigger than I was used to at the Dahlia District, and the closet didn’t have a single piece of lingerie in sight. A large window showed the backyard, covered in exercise and training equipment. There were no windows in my dorm room at the Dahlia District. But this bedroom, in Lizzy’s house, was a place where you could rest and actually see the daylight outside.
I collapsed onto the bed, holding my phone above me, and found Cormac’s name. I typed a message:I really enjoyed the other night.It was the best kind of lie because it wasn’t a lie at all. The reason behind telling him was my secret.
He responded quickly:Oh?
I had his attention. He wasn’t shutting down my attempts to flirt like before.
The fire cane, I responded,It was so different from anything I’ve experienced.
I set my phone on the bed, then ran my fingers along my bruised thighs. Some lines were more swollen than others, but no matter where I poked, the pain was there, a vibrant reminder of what we had done.
But this wasn’t about whether or not I wanted to do it again. Ihadto do it again. I would do it again and again, because I had to complete this task for Lizzy, and for myself.
You haven’t experienced any kink before, he sent.At all.
But that’s where you come in. Maybe we can do more next time, I sent.
He didn’t respond, so I stared at the ceiling. A band poster was taped up there of a female-led group that specialized in angry songs about independence and heartbreak. When I was a teenager, I had never thought of their songs as lonely. But now?NowI realized how sad the songs were. Life as an assassin, a consultant, whatever you wanted to call it, meant a life alone, no matter how young or old you were. Your only other option was to end up dead.
Maybe that’s what was going on with Cormac. Maybe he was lonely because he never found the submissive he was looking for.
Decadence Revelry. I needed to use that loneliness to my advantage.
How is my audition for the role?I sent.Am I your guest yet?
How would you rate your skills?he replied.
Decent, I texted.Willing, eager, but unrefined.
I would add a hint of desperation, he replied.
If only he could see how frenzied I was to get this assignment over with.
Where are you?he sent.
At my old home, I sent.Visiting my family.
Find a permanent marker, he responded.
A chill went down my spine. What was he going to make me do? The word ‘permanent’ seemed strange. It wasn’t just words, but something he wanted to instill in a way that meant forever. He had already marked my body and mind in a way I wouldn’t forget anytime soon. Would these bruises leave behind a scar?
I sent him a picture of the permanent marker and typed,Got it.
