Till Deceived Do We Part

He was laughing. At me. And what did I do? Did I hit him on the head? Did I shoot him? Yell at him? Scream profanities? No. I stood there. Staring. Not believing. For if believed, I would have to admit that Jake had lied to me my whole life. That he had kept secrets about my life, hidden from me. Why would he do that? Why?

“Sweety, how about a deal?” A deal? The words barely rung through my thoughts. I still couldn’t believe. I just couldn’t.

“We’ll give you Zane,” Zane? “And in return, you’ll take out Jake. Fair enough, sweety?” Zane? Jake? It took a few moments to realize what he was asking, and when I did, rage hit me. I was furious at Jake. He lied to me, he betrayed me. But never, never did he mean me harm. He raised me himself, he brought me up and was always there. He didn’t deserve to die for this. He deserved to be hit across the face. But die? No. And Zane, how dare Lincoln wave around his life like a lollipop. He deserved better! He was the best! Better than the best!

I didn’t know what to say, for I’m not one for words. So I did what I did know how to do. I launched myself at him. Of course, me being my anger prone self, and not paying attention, didn’t realize he had been expecting this. Hoping for it, even.

His arms wrapped around my waist, and he brought me to the ground with him, his body rolling on top of mine. He slammed me down, my head taking the brunt of the slam. My vision danced as he pinned my wrists, his body pinning mind, his groin pressing down hard against me. I gritted my teeth and mentally kicked myself. Hell, this was a screwed up week.

“See this, sweety? This is a women’s position. Beneath a man.” I growled and tried to shoot my body upward, but he laughed and pinned me again, his groin pressing deeper against me. I ignored the disgust that rose in me, along with the bile threatening to come out my throat. I wouldn’t let him do anything me. I wouldn’t. It was just a game to him.

“Scared?” He breathed, his head coming down to my ear, his breath tickling across my ear. His lips pressed gently against the base of my neck and I felt the bile threatening to come out. So close. My stomach went into turmoil and all I could think of was Dane. When Dane did it, I liked it. When I was with Dane, everything he said made me happy. When Dane held me, I felt cared for. And now Lincoln was doing it all. It was like a disgrace to the memory of Dane, and I felt my hatred grow. Calm down. Channel the anger. Build on it and think. I let out a deep breath, my hands unclenching in his hands, my body relaxing under his.

He chuckled, and the sound travelled through his chest, vibrating into me. “Typical assassin. Assess the situation, then calms down. Well done. But you didn’t answer my question.” He murmured, his other hand trailing down the length of my arm. “Are you,” he got even closer, if that was possible, “scared?”

“No.” But I was. This was something that wouldn’t heal, if he did it. Physical wounds I can take... but as I was learning, I was horrible at taking emotional ones.

“Really?” I gritted my teeth as his hand slid under my sweater, pushing it up, his fingers spraying across my stomach.

“You don’t scare me Lincoln.” Lie. Don’t show it in your eyes. Don’t. Panic was beginning to pulse through me, and I was desperately trying to change it to anger.

“Not yet, anyways.” He added, for me. His hand left my stomach and went to my jeans. “You really are unique, Andrayka. Truly one of a kind.” I didn’t answer. I didn’t trust my voice. I just wanted him off. He fiddled with the button, and once it snapped open, I felt as if something in me snapped, and I had to close my eyes.

I had never been raped before. I had never thought that I could ever get into a situation I might be. It just never occurred to me. And now, all I could see were their faces. Beaten and torn, but afraid. Scarred for the rest of their lives.

When you make it to the top, your first couple missions are with another partner. Mandatory. So when I made it top, just shortly after Zane, and a year after Flint, I was assigned with them. For Zane and Flint had always made a good team, and had decided on keeping it that way. They always worked together.

I did good, better than good. I aced all of the missions. And then time came for me to act on my own, and again, I did good. Two months after I started pulling my own hits, no longer having to work a partner, I got a particular hit. A group of men were taking women and beating and raping them. We assumed killing them also, for none were ever found. I jumped on the idea of taking down the sick bastards. Even if I’m not very feminine, I still feel the need to support my own sex in situations like that. For no one deserves to have their dignity ripped away from them like that. No women deserves to have their own sexuality used against them. It was wrong, and I trembled with the rage of knowing what the men were doing.

I caught the first man at his house. I tortured him, and even I was surprised with the brutality I showed. I liked to cause pain, but I had never went that far yet. But it was early. Now? I’m no longer squeamish at torture. He told me where the warehouse was, when I promised I wouldn’t kill him. He told me. Then I killed him. I lied, but I felt no remorse for doing so. For I knew he was one of the men raping the women, and I was sure he had used the line it’ll all be alright, to them. Giving them a false hope, telling them they won’t hurt them, only to turn it on them and completely crush their souls. So I felt no remorse in lying.

I found the warehouse and called for backup. I didn’t wait for it, though. I went in and found a scene that makes my gorge rise every time I think about it. I thought the women were dead. They weren’t. They were being raped constantly, barely kept alive. Too weak to even defend themselves or scream in pain, and seeing them like that made something inside snap.

I killed them all. Got a few nasty scars form it, but I killed them all. Afterwards I freed the women who were tied up and gagged and did my best to help the ones who were immobile. I didn’t care if they saw me, and if they were able to describe me. For I’m sure in their eyes, I was a hero. I didn’t feel like one, though.

The were was one women in particular, more like a girl, actually. She was only seventeen. Her face was swollen, her lip split, her eyes black. She was naked, and across her body were bruises in the shape of hands and red areas that looked to have been beaten. Hickeys also scattered her body, and blood stained her thighs. Her eyes had been full of such pain and fear that I felt my own gut clench in fear. When I reached her, she had collapsed against me, crying in terror. I held her, trying to comfort her. I don’t think I did, I’m not someone who knows how to comfort, but I think I helped. By the time the backup arrived, the girl was curled in a ball against me, her hand gripping mine so tight I thought it might break. But I didn’t let go.

The backup called the medic team we have, and they came. They clothed the girl and tended to her wounds, and the whole time this happened, she didn’t say a word. But she wouldn’t leave my side. When it finally came time to leave, and I asked where she would like to be dropped off at, she met my eyes. Her eyes were a startling shade of green, and again, I felt hatred to the men who did this.

“Away.” Was all she had said. So we dropped her off at the nearest hospital, not knowing where to bring her. I felt guilty at first, but after two more months passed, Jake called me into his office. He told me had been watching the girl. A surprise on my behalf. The girl had went into the hospital, got tested, and then offered to join one of their support groups. As far as I knew, she still worked there, helping rape victims. But that was one mission I would never forget, for everyone had seemed so broken.