His Tempting Captive (Assassins Can Love Book 1)

Shocked was a gross understatement in Thomas' mind as the alleged criminal made her debut. She was young and even though he didn't want to admit it, very beautiful. But he had learned that a book was not to be judged by its cover. He lunged at her, pinning her to the wall.

She cried out in pain, but as soon as those eyes fluttered open he paused.

"W-who a-are you?" She gasped her face one of complete innocence.

"I will be the one who asks the questions." His voice echoed throughout the room, the callousness of it enough to make her close her eyes in fear. She tried to push him off which resulted in him spinning her around effortlessly and pushing her face-first into the wall. The towel that covered her body fell away from her and she gasped, tears forcing their way out.

Thomas leaned into her body to restrict any movement. He wasn't proud of it but his body was reacting to her. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear.

"What-are-you-doing-here?" He questioned. "In my house." Word by word, the words were slow and dangerous.

"Your house?" Her voice was cracking but Thomas tried not to be affected, she was a criminal and they were good at pretending.

"Yes, my house." He all but growled.

"I-I w-was invited here, by Mr. Lynne. H-he he's a friend of my dad's." She responded, tears flowing uncontrollably down her cheeks.

two month ago

Sigh. Just Breathe...

Avril repeated the words in her mind as both her parents rose their voices at the same time. She kept her focus on the sound of her breathing. Both of her parents basically telling her the same thing but the melding of their voices at such pitches was doing nothing for her throbbing temple. She inhaled deeply and silenced her parents with a strained, " Please, just listen..." The words as thin as her resolve.

They both paused and looked damningly at her. She felt as if she was being judged for some terrible sin.

"First off, I am not sixteen and pregnant so stop looking at me as if I have disappointed you." Avril's tone was clipped but she immediately composed herself and tried to show her parents the respect they deserved, even though they were raising her blood pressure.

"This college offers the best program for my field. My teachers felt as if it would best suit my needs as a student. I know the distance is troubling but if you could just consider what this opportunity would mean fo-" the moment Avril thought she'd gotten in full swing of her argument her father's voice thundered over her own.

"Opportunity..." Her father rasped, his arms folding instinctively at his chest, a gesture he made whenever he was angry or upset. "A school has nothing to do with results. It's the students that need to aspire. You never asked our permission to apply that far away." He responded, motioning to her mother sitting dining table. At her husband's command, Avril's mother passed her gaze frantically between her husband's furious expression and her daughter's helpless one. She gazed back at her husband and nodded her approval of his words. Avril felt her heart rate increasing. She wished the wretched thought to apply to college had need found root in her brain.

Her father was intimidating when he wanted to be and her mother always took his side in his presence. Avril was certain of her ability to articulate her thoughts, of that she was sure but whenever she had to make a point to her father her mind and wit abandoned her and she didn't know how to counteract his baseless arguements.

"But dad-" She began feebly realising at once that her tactic to convince her parents should never be to acknowledge the parent/child relationship. It reinforced to her father that she was just a child. A witless child, who hadn't the slight clue of what she was talking about.

"No. It's settled. You are going to a college close to home. I am not letting my eighteen-year-old daughter go off on her own to an unknown place. Have you considered the risk?" He questioned harshly and Avril flinched at his tone. She looked to her mother longingly but she too seemed adamant.

"Dad.." she bit her lip the moment the word escaped her lips. "I am eighteen, don't I have a say?" She threw her hands up in the air. Her eyes feeling hot.

"I am well aware of your age. But do you think that being eighteen makes you an adult? Do you think you have it all figured out? As far as your mother and I are concerned you are still a child. We make the rules." His voice boomed, shaking the very foundation of the house.

"Eighteen..." he muttered to himself as if the word itself inspired lunacy. "It's just a damned number! Doesn't speak for anything!" He muttered, rising on his feet and pacing. He was obviously worked up now. "What kind of parent will I be if I let my eighteen-year-old daughter free to roam unknown places unaccompanied? I won't encourage such reckless and stupid behavior. I am thinking of preserving your future." He growled, but this time Avril grew angry. She ignored the hot stinging behind her eyes and refused to hold her tongue.

"Stupid behavior? When have I ever done anything to disappoint you? I am not some dim-witted girl who doesn't understand right from wrong. Don't you trust me?" Her voice rose a pitch higher. Avril had been living with a routine from the time she was old enough to know the meaning of the word. Her life revolved around school and home. She was never allowed any leeways to attend even after school functions.

"No. I trust my instincts and my decisions and I say you are not going, Avril. Your mother and I will not send our only daughter off to ruin herself." He shouted and Avril averted her eyes to hide the tears that sprang up once again. This time there was no willing them away. She turned abruptly and fled to her room.

Avril locked her door and sat in the corner of her room, she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. She allowed her body and soul to be swept up in her sadness. Her entire body shook violently as if she was in the midst of some natural phenomena involving plate tectonics.

She thought it incredibly unfair. She'd never done anything to deserve such harsh treatment. She was a model student; she carried herself with propriety and all for what? Just to have her careful behavior shot back into her face? How could her parents even consider that she would do something stupid? Her father's words echoing in her brain, she felt as if they saw her as a burden, a disappointment and it hurt. Everything she did was aimed at making them proud but sometimes she felt as if her efforts were unappreciated.

She would agree that her age was no real accomplishment, it was really just a number but parents back out of their children's life at early ages. Why was her family different? She still looked to her parents as her guide. That's just how it always was and she feared that is how it will always be. She craved the chance to grow into her own self.

She adored her parents, they weren't usually that harsh and she enjoyed their company but sometimes she felt as if she needed some space to grow on her own. Make her own mistakes instead of continuously learning from others. She wanted, so desperately to attend the college of her choice, but no. Her parents had the last say and it hurt that they couldn't see that she really wanted this. Her desires had never swayed them.

Avril dried her eyes. It didn't make sense crying over something she would be unable to rectify. Her parents had their reasons and even though she would never be able to understand this particular one she had to respect their decisions.

Thomas tapped his fingers gently and rhythmically on the mahogany counter at a bar. His eyes expertly searching for his target while juggling a conversation with a very voluptuous blond. Her body everything he looked for in a woman but at the moment his job took precedence.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw his target move. Ronaldo Torrid. The man was notorious in the black market. He involved himself in everything from drugs to human trafficking. Thomas felt that killing this man would be a highly enjoyable event. He leaned off the counter and eloquently excused himself as he downed the remainder of his whisky.

He followed the man out into the washrooms. Ensuring no one else was inside, Thomas locked the doors and waited casually by the exit for Rolando to remove himself from one of the stalls. As the hammered scoundrel exited, Thomas began to whistle, the sound alerting Ronaldo to his presence. His hand immediately reached for the pistol in his jacket but Thomas was faster. He pushed off the door instantly and caught Rolando's arm causing the gun to fly out of sight. The only reminder of its existence the clicking sound as it fell to the floor.

Thomas took the opportunity to smash Ronaldo's head into a nearby mirror, switching him around and then pinning him to the wall.

"Fuck! Who the hell are you?" Ronaldo cursed as the pain of his battered forehead took effect, blood oozing from the wounds.

Thomas smiled, his teeth bared like fangs. His much more dangerous than any animal. "I, you sadistic bastard, am what some would refer to as a reaper," That was Thomas' nickname in his world and he used it proudly. "and I have come to deliver you unto your maker." He spoke the words deliberately, holding Ronaldo in place.

"What are blabbing?" The obnoxious man growled and Thomas assessed that he was more bark than bite. It was evidently stupid of him venturing out alone and Thomas almost regretted how easy this job was. "Is it money that you want? Because money I've got, I could make you a very rich man." He tried to tempt Thomas, but he didn't realize that Thomas was in fact affluent and money was not his issue, scumbags like Ronaldo was.

"Actually, Ronaldo I stand to gain a lot more by your death than you can ever give me." He replied.

"You stupid imbecile, you can't kill me!" He applied more force attempting to break free from Thomas' grasp which only led to Thomas drawing out his switchblade and marking Ronaldo's neck in a thin, definite cut. The man went limp and his body slumped to the floor lifelessly.

"I just did." He replied to the empty room.

Thomas removed a handkerchief from his jacket and wiped his blade clean. He unlocked the door and made his way out. The washrooms were hidden from the view of people so his entrance and exit were unmarked. He straightened out his suit and made his way back to the bar's counter, ordering another whisky.

Tonight was a night to celebrate. He mused as the blond from earlier made her way over to him. She drew up his arms and led him to a room upstairs. He didn't dare resist.