Assassin (7 page)

“Haven’t you ever fed something before?” Her curt tone has
the hairs on his arms bristling as he narrows his eyes. He’s heard that anger
in the sick room is not good, but is it detrimental to a developing foal?
Probably.

“Oh, I’ve fed plenty of things before, just not a goddamn
horse!” In his frustration, the bottle pulls from the foal’s mouth, and Reese’s
Pieces tries to bolt after it.

“Christ Troy! Just give me the bottle and go back inside to
sleep. You’re worse than a three year old trying to help its mother clean!”
She’s really pushing his buttons now. For the past few hours,  he’s been trying
to follow her instructions, ignore the fact that she’s an attractive woman way too
close to him, and stop thinking about the fact that when he goes to sleep he’ll
have nightmares about his niece’s dead body again.

Before he can blow his top and disturb all the sleeping
horses, Troy slams his way out of the stall and paces outside in the brisk air.
He can see his breath in front of him, and puts his hands on the back of his
head as he stares up at the bright stars. He’s never seen this many stars I his
life, and it’s as if they’re falling down all around him. Struck by the obscene
beauty of it all, Troy forgets about the urge to slam Cassidy down and show her
whose boss. His hands fall away from the back of his head as he slumps against
the outside wall of the barn.

“I guess it’s captivating when you haven’t seen it before.”
He feels his heartbeat increase to quick tempo, but it’s not because Cassidy
startled him. It’s the way she slumps against the side of the barn with him and
looks up, revealing the length of her neck that leads down to her chest. She’s
wearing a V-neck, long-sleeved green shirt that reveals just enough cleavage to
make his mouth water.

“So you just get used to it looking like the sky is falling
in on you?” She smiles as she looks over at him, and he quickly adjusts his
gaze so that it’s on her eyes and not her chest.

“I view it as being close enough to touch them, not that
they’re falling on me. I guess you’re a glass is half empty sort, huh?” He
looks back up at the stars and tries to picture it the way she does, reaching a
hand up as if he’s going to grasp one of the twinkling lights.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” They’re silent for a spell
before Cassidy interrupts his thoughts of home.

“I’m sorry that I snapped at you back there. Reese’s Pieces
just makes me so nervous. Dad doesn’t think he’s going to make it.” They both
glance at the living room light that is still on inside the house and Troy feels
a pang of guilt that he thought the same. But the foal seems eager enough to
eat and walk, so he has a fair shot.

“He will with a mother like you.” Cassidy’s smile fades when
he looks back at her, and for a second she swears she sees genuine interest in Troy’s
eyes. An owl hoots in the distance, and she quivers when she realizes that
she’s staring into a killer’s eyes. Troy Red is not his real name, and he’s a
dangerous man. It’s not that she hasn’t slept with dangerous men before, but
they always end up leaving before dawn.

“I used to think that the world was the city I lived in, and
there was nothing beyond it. I felt that I owed it to my family to continue on
the business if you want to call it that. My world was small, Cassidy. It
wasn’t full of people like you and your father. My sister was the only decent
thing I had, and they ripped her away from me before I even knew it was
happening. I can’t tell you much more about myself, honestly, or you’ll become
a target if they come looking for me.” The hairs on her neck stand up as she
listens to him confessing that may hap his past lifestyle was wrong. Ten days
in isolation might do that to a person when they have a lot of time to think.

Troy keeps his gaze on the light in the living room, and
sees the curtains pulling aside for a moment. Grant waves a hand in greeting
and Troy raises his in return. Cassidy clears her throat and turns to head back
into the barn with Troy on her heels. They have a foal to feed, and it’s
already been fifteen minutes.

The rest of their night goes without a hitch, and the foal
looks a little more bright eyed than he did the previous day when they picked
him up. Cassidy is taking a nap in the stall with the foal when Troy starts
cleaning. He attempts to keep quiet, but she comes stumbling out anyway to
help.

“Why don’t you take the first shift while I clean, and while
I’m taking the second shift this afternoon you can sleep? I think I have the
hang of feeding him now.” She gives him a worried glance, but nods. Something
happened between them last night, but Cassidy isn’t totally sure what it means.

“When are you going to sleep?” She rubs at her eyes as she’s
asking and gets dirt in them. Troy shrugs one shoulder and starts cleaning
again.

“I’ll be fine. Now go feed him before he starts his fits
again.” Cassidy is about to open her mouth to argue, but Troy holds up a shovel
full of manure and she turns on her heel as quickly as she can. He watches her
retreat back to the stall with Reese’s Pieces in it, and stifles his yawn with
a hand before he gets back to work.

Grant comes out occasionally to check on the two of them,
and offers to watch the foal for an hour while they go shower. His face turns
red as he stumbles over a few sentences to explain that he meant separately and
not together. Troy retreats before he can be embarrassed further and skip hops
to the front door of the farmhouse as he’s pulling off his shoes.

Cassidy takes her father’s truck home to get clothes and shower
there. Now that he’s completely alone, Troy undresses with a heavy heart and
leans his forehead against the shower wall. He lets the hot water pour over him
and wash away the mixed emotions he’s experiencing with the farmer’s daughter. And
attempts to forget about the one minute he did manage to grab some shut-eye the
previous night. He had woken up after only a few minutes with sweat on his
forehead even though it was below sixty last night.

Thankfully, the woman beside him had not noticed, or she
pretended not to.

When the water starts to run cold, Troy finally turns the
knob and towels off before he gets out. He looks at himself in the mirror and
sees the confliction all over his face, but turning it off is nearly impossible
now.
Just two weeks ago I killed a man. Now I can’t fathom wanting to go
back to that.

He reminds himself he never enjoyed the killing in the first
place, but on his way here he never imagined he’d enjoy a simpler life much
more than the one he had in the city. Out here there’s only one woman that
attracts his eye, not that the other women he saw in town are any less
attractive than Cassidy. It’s the way she carries herself and her attitude
towards life that makes him want to learn more about her. It makes him want to do
more than just learn about Cassidy in a physical way.

Getting dressed is difficult, but not for the obvious
reasons. Troy can’t seem to keep his eyes open when he sits down to put his
socks on and wakes up to find that ten minutes have passed. He drops to the
floor to do ten to give himself a boost, and then heads down the stairs to
rummage around for lunch. Nothing but yogurt and leftovers in the fridge, there
is one thing that he misses from the city. The ability to go out and get
something to eat down the street had been heaven.

Grant’s truck pulls up in front of the house, and Cassidy
hops out with a large duffle bag in hand. It looks as if she’s planning on
staying here for the next couple of weeks while the foal has to be fed
overnight. Or it’s only a few days, and she’s like all the other women Troy has
known in his lifetime, they pack too much.

“You need help with that?” He asks as he opens up the front
door, but Grant is already hauling ass up the driveway to help his daughter.

“I got it. Why don’t you go check on the foal, Troy? He
doesn’t seem to like being alone.” Taking the old man’s hint, Troy recycles the
yogurt cup outside and tromps down towards the barn. He’s not going to get in
the old man’s way when it comes to his daughter.

“What did you think I do for a living, Olivia?” Troy
slams his fist down on the kitchen counter as his sister jumps, and her face pales.
He grits his teeth together and feels the familiar muscle jumping at the back
of his jaw as he grinds them together.

“Anything but that, Troy! Killing people? I just don’t
think it’s a smart idea for Lilly to be around someone who does that. Do you?”
He feels his guts twisting as he stares at the countertop that
he
paid
for. His money has kept them both afloat since their parents died, and now she
disowns him?

“I’m careful. I don’t bring my work home like Dad used
to. Besides, I’m in too deep now, Livvy. They’re not going to let me go.” He
looks at his sister to see if there’s any chance she’ll sway from her resolve,
but her eyes are as hard as his. She’s not going to back down over this, which
means he’ll never get to see Lilly again. “Fine, I’ll quit. I’ll tell them it’s
all over, but we’ll need to disappear.”

She shakes her head at him and rolls her eyes to the
ceiling as she crosses her arms over her chest. It’s the classic ‘I’m not
listening to you right now, Robert’ look she’s always gotten on her face when
he’s tried to tell her what to do. She’s stubborn that way, and he loves her
for it. But it’s going to get her killed.

“I can’t just up and leave! Lilly has school, and I’ve
found a job finally!” She pushes her blonde hair back from her forehead with a
shaking hand and looks at the kitchen door that leads to outside. “I think you
should go. It’s too late. I’ve made my decision.” Her tone tells him that she’s
serious, and he realizes that right now he can’t sway her. So he sucks up all
the anger and hatred he’s feeling towards her, plasters a sick smile on his
face, and walks out of his sister’s house. It’s the last time he ever saw her
alive.

“Troy?” He wakes with a start and flinches away from her
hand at first until he realizes whose it is.

“Cassidy, what’s wrong?” Her eyes are wide, and the foal is
quivering on the other side of the stall, as far from him as it can get. He
looks down at the fists on his thighs and lets out a sigh of frustration. If he
hadn’t fallen asleep, this wouldn’t be happening.

“You were dreaming. Do you want to tell me about it?” Her hand
is still warm on his shoulder through the gray shirt he’s wearing, and it’s
distracting him from what she’s actually saying.

“No,” he pulls away from her hand to give himself the ability
to think again. She doesn’t follow him as he retreats to the outside of the
barn into the early morning air. It’s crisper than it was the night before, and
the sound of insects has ceased. The living room light is no longer on tonight,
but Troy knows that Grant is still listening. The old man doesn’t trust him.
Hell, Troy doesn’t trust himself around Cassidy Grant.

He leans his forehead against the outside wall of the barn
with his hands next to his head, almost in the position he was arrested in.
Troy grits his teeth together as he tries to think of anything but his sister’s
death and the mess that ensued. Images flash by at record speed as he searches
for a memory that doesn’t involve them or death. When he finally realizes that
his life was nothing but his family or his job, he feels the weight crushing
down on him.

“Troy?” He doesn’t want to hear that name, or his real name.
He just wants everyone to stop looking at him for just a few heartbeats. In two
 weeks will be the trial, and he’ll be called in to testify. Just two more
weeks of holding Cassidy at arm’s length, and then he’ll be shipped off to a
more permanent location.

“I’m fine, go back in and feed Reese’s Pieces. I’ll be in soon.
I’ve gotta take a piss.” He lies smoothly as he pushes off the side of the barn
and marches towards the trees. Just in case he’s telling the truth, Cassidy
doesn’t follow him.

“Let go of my shirt, you little shit!” Troy pulls away from
the horse’s teeth and jumps out of the way, dodging this way and that and
taking off. Reese keeps up with him easily, and looks over at him to see why
he’s running so slowly. “I’m human, kid, I don’t run very fast.” His hand comes
down on the foal’s nose,and he marvels at how much Reese has grown in just
seven days. They still have to stay up at night with him, but it’s gotten
easier now that they’re on a schedule.

Troy takes care of the foal in the morning and into the
afternoon while Cassidy gets some sleep. Then she takes care of the foal as
Troy gets his chores done and lies down for about six hours. At which point
they both attempt to make it through the night without any awkward encounters
or discussions. For the past three nights, they’ve been dodging each other’s
gazes.

“Soon he’s going to weigh more than you, and you won’t want
him doing that!” Grant looks disapproving over Reese’s training, but he’s just
too fun to play with. Troy flicks a fly off the erect ear that points towards
Grant, and ignores the old man’s words.

“Do you need to go to the feed store today?” He asks
casually. Troy’s gaze stays on the pasture ahead of him with the adult horses
grazing in the distance. The foal has tried a few times to interact with the
adults, but he’s just not ready yet. Lightning about tried to take his head off
yesterday because the foal was looking for a tit.

At first Troy had felt fear, but after he realized that
Reese’s Pieces was not injured, he had himself a good laugh. Cassidy had
laughed, too, when he told her after her nap. Grant had seemed perturbed by the
horse’s behavior and his social development, but Cassidy assured him that she
would keep pushing him to take to the other horses.

“I’m heading out right now. I just wanted to let you know.”
Troy puts a hand on Reese’s back and finally looks over at Grant’s
expressionless face.

“Do you want me to come with? I’m sure Reese can handle
things on his own for an hour in his stall, or I could wake up Cassidy.” Grant’s
already shaking his head before Troy can finish and glances at the trees beyond
the pasture.

“No, she needs her rest and Reese needs his formula. Just
try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone.” Troy finally looks over at the
man who trusts him so much with his daughter, and tries not to think about
breaking that trust. Grant gives him a hesitant smile that lasts a fraction of
a second and turns to leave.

“I’ll see you when you get back.” Troy says as he continues
to look out at the adult horses. Reese’s Pieces nibbles at the hem of his shirt
and butts his head up against Troy’s chest for attention. In return, Troy idly
runs a hand up and down the foal’s face, and gives a decent scratch behind the
ears as if he’s petting a dog. The foal’s gained a substantial amount of
weight, and he eats a little less often each hour, but he’s still fed small
amounts every hour.

Troy takes him back to the stall for the next feeding. He
hears Grant’s truck start and waits for the sound of the tires heading down the
dirt road to fade before he heads into the house to get the foal’s formula.
Reese’s Pieces tries to follow him, but he gently closes the stall door and
leaves the foal to his own devices.

He tries to close the front door gently so as not to wake up
Cassidy, who is currently spread out across the living room couch snoring as if
there’s no tomorrow. Troy pulls the powder from the refrigerator and begins to
follow the instructions as quietly as possible, but when he turns off the sink
water, he hears that Cassidy has stopped snoring. She’s sitting up on the couch
rubbing at her eyes and trying to push her hair back into place.

“You have another three hours, go back to sleep.” Cassidy’s sleepy
face finally turns towards him, and she smiles at him as she stretches. His
mouth goes dry at her shirt lifts up to reveal her flat abdomen and the V-neck
bunches with her cleavage.
What I wouldn’t give to-

Shocked by the thought, Troy immediately turns back to the formula
bottle and successfully blocks the rest of that thought from forming. He shakes
the bottle vigorously to make sure everything is mixed evenly, and retreats
from the house like the hounds of Hell are on his heels. Reese’s Pieces is anxious
by the time his adopted father returns and Troy has effectively forgotten about
his reaction to Cassidy when the bottle is emptied.

He pats the foal once before he stops outside the barn on
his way back to the house. His nose rises into the air as his face turns
upward, and he closes his eyes as he smells the first hints of autumn. Unbeknownst
to him, Cassidy is watching the way he stands from his bedroom window. She
takes a step back when he opens his eyes and retreats into the bathroom to
shower quickly. This room used to be hers, and she’s much more used to this
shower than her father’s bathroom.

Troy sets the bottle by the sink and crosses his arms as he
waits for the sound of water to cease. When it finally does, he rinses out the
bottle with hot water and wonders what his bathroom smells like. The thought
has about a half a second to percolate in his mind before he tries to shut it
off, but it’s like a fire hydrant now.

It’s normal. I’ve been spending so much time with her
that I’m bound to start thinking about her at some point. Just because I think
about it doesn’t mean I have to act on it.
Troy snorts at that thought and
tries to tell the hard-on in his pants the same thing. It’s not helping.

What does help is the sound of Grant’s trucking pulling up
in the driveway. Troy takes in a deep breath and stuffs down his thoughts of
the man’s daughter. It’s well past noon now, so Troy grabs  yogurt from the
refrigerator and marvels at the amount in there. At some point, Cassidy’s been
stocking up. It seems she’s realized the blueberry is his favorite, and there’s
a group at the back separated from the rest. They’re all blueberry.

Unable to help the small smile, Troy closes the refrigerator
door and makes himself comfortable at the table. Grant looks worried when he
walks through the door, but he seems relieved when he sees Troy sitting dressed
fully at his kitchen table. The relief is short-lived as Cassidy comes bounding
down the steps, freshly showered, in a bath robe. She smiles at her father as
if this is an everyday occurrence, and pulls out her own personal favorite,
strawberry yogurt, from the fridge.

“Would you mind helping me with the feed bags, Troy?” Grant
masks his worry at his daughter’s unabashed flaunting of her long legs.

“Sure, you got Reese’s Pieces, then?” The last part of his
sentence is directed at Cassidy, but he doesn’t look at her. He has a feeling
that Grant will be talking to his daughter about appropriate dress in front of
the guests later on when Troy is sleeping.

Once outside, Grant’s shoulders relax, and he pulls the
truck up to the barn door. The horses are still in the pasture, so it’s only
Reese’s Pieces who whinnies at the sound. Grant’s silent for the first half of
the load that they carry in through the doors. Then he finally speaks up.

“Cassidy is awfully casual around you.” It’s one of the
strangest things that a father has ever said to Troy, but he supposes it’s
warranted. Although, may hap if he had been around more women’s fathers, he
would hear the same remark.

“I’m not pursuing her, Grant.” Troy grunts as he grabs a bag
and heaves it over his shoulder. His footsteps are light as he makes his way
back to the tack room where the feed is stored.

“I know,” There’s a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence, yet Troy
doesn’t ask him to go on. Cassidy wanders out with another bottle of formula by
the time they’re finished stacking feed, and Troy is beginning to feel the
effects of not sleeping enough lately. He doesn’t say another word to either of
them as he tromps up to the house, pulls off his boots, and heads upstairs to
shower.

He was right. It smells like Cassidy in his bathroom, and
his bedroom. Ignoring how much that scent makes him feel relaxed, Troy hops
into a cold, cold shower that should help him soften in other areas. It
doesn’t. He falls asleep with one arm tossed over his eyes as he tries to think
of anything but her scent.

The temperature in the room is met to be freezing to make
the person within uncomfortable, but for Troy it makes him feel right at home.
The room feels just how his insides feel at the moment, and the police officer
across from him is the one who is uncomfortable. Officer Link flips through a
manila envelope with pictures in it, ones that Troy doesn’t want to see. Yet
the officer turns them and waits patiently for Troy to look down.

Her blonde hair is splayed out around her, and her eyes
are wide with fear. There’s a tear trail down her cheek still, and her lips are
parted as if she’s about to sob. A six year old little girl should never look
like that. Troy feels the muscle in his jaw twitching with his rage, but it’s
the only visible sign that this photograph has bothered him. The officer
notices.

“You know, she probably died thinking someone would
rescue her before it was over. Poor kid.” The photograph is flipped over so
that a more gruesome one can be revealed.

They sent a stone killer. This was personal.

Olivia’s hazel eyes are staring at nothing in particular,
but they’re afraid even in death. Her jaw is slack because it was broken, and
her own blonde hair is in a disheveled bun. Troy can’t help it. He looks away
from the photograph to swallow the lump in his throat. It’s not a lump forming
because of tears, but a lump that is his outraged cry.

“They took off three of her fingernails before they
killed her Robert. I assume after three she told them where you live. Perhaps
the broken jaw was for dishonoring her own family. You know how those sickos
are. They’re still finishing up the rape kit to see if she was assaulted. Do
you think they assaulted her, Robert?” One finger twitches at the word rape and
Troy begins to see colors in front of his vision. It’s so difficult to keep in
this seething hatred; even though he’s managed to keep his emotions veiled most
of his life.

The ones who did this wanted him to see the bodies, and
they wanted him to be sitting in this chair. Whoever committed this heinous
crime probably is someone like him, a killer for hire. Except this killer was
hired to figure out his whereabouts by any means possible, and kill him. Did
they really think the cops would think Troy did this?

“I don’t think they assaulted her, but if you’re trying
to get me to talk, there’s no need for this. I’ve already agreed to tell you
everything I know.” The officer’s smirk makes his skin grow colder than the air
around him. Troy keeps his face expressionless, but he’s imaging pulling off
this man’s fingernails and plucking out his eyes slowly, very slowly.

“Oh, I know. I just wanted to remind you why you’re here
in case you got the urge to keep something to yourself. The deal is, you
testify in court when we need you, and we’ll make sure whoever did this to your
family doesn’t find you.” The man makes it sound like Troy cares about his own
life in this moment, but he’d trade places with Lilly and Olivia any day.

“I don’t care about that, but if you want answers I guess
I have to be alive. So I’ll join the witness protection program for as long as
it’s necessary. Then I’ll disappear on my own after this is all over, deal?”
The officer closes up the manila envelope and looks at the thick glass. Without
another word, he stands up, and waltzes from the room like their discussion
never took place.

Knowing that there is someone behind the glass, Troy
doesn’t move an inch. He keeps his leg from twitching, checks the twitch in his
jaw so that it stops, and stares at the table in front of him. The cuffs
keeping him rooted to the floor and weighing his wrists down make him feel like
an animal in a zoo.

This time he doesn’t wake up with a sheen of sweat on his
body, but he is breathing heavily. Rolling over so that he can see what time it
is, Troy curses under his breath when he realizes that he missed dinner, and he
also missed Cassidy bickering with her father over the answers to Jeopardy.
Getting dressed takes him only a few minutes, and as he’s heading down the
steps he’s pulling on his t-shirt over his bulky frame. Grant catches him at
the bottom of the stairs at the last second.

“Heading out?” He asks sleepily.

“Yeah, Cassidy’s already out there?” Grant just nods and
pats Troy on the back as he meanders up the rest of the steps. The old man
looks zonked after a day of loading and unloading feed bags. He looks as if
he’s starting to get too old for this sort of work.

Before he heads out, Troy grabs a fresh bottle of formula
for the foal and slips on his dirty boots on the front porch. The cool air
feels good on his flesh, but he figures it’s going to be too cold tonight for
the foal to be without a blanket. So he stops by the tack room to grab
something to put over the young horse, and shuffles into the stall with his
supplies.

Reese’s Pieces is standing in the corner with a sour look on
his face, and Cassidy is nowhere to be seen. Confused, Troy puts the blanket
over the foal and feeds him half the bottle before he sets it down to find
Cassidy. It’s been five minutes already, and she should have been back by now.
Worried about her well-being, Troy starts by glancing out at the pasture.

“Cassidy?” He calls softly so that he doesn’t disturb the
other horses, but she doesn’t answer.

Frustrated with her lack of response, Troy begins to glance
in the stalls. Beethoven stomps a hoof in warning and Hannah’s horse, Violet,
whinnies quietly. She’s not on the lower level of the barn, so Troy starts
exploring the hayloft, where he spots a light coming from the back corner. Relieved
that she’s still on the property, Troy creeps through the hay to find her
sitting with her laptop open and ear buds in.