Colour Series Box Set (92 page)

It’s lunch time before I reach the diamond store, the secret of dirty business is make it look so clean no one looks twice. The up market dealer in the huge shopping mall is far from seedy and suspicious while attracting rich housewives, business men and collectors are their clients. Death, blood and shiny rocks are the merchandise of choice. The silly electronic chime goes off as I enter the shop, plush carpet beneath my feet and the dirt of diamonds all around me.

“Avery.” Sam greets me in his overly feminine voice, I have no idea how he even gets himself into those tight pants. “Sam.” I air kiss him as he takes my hand in a limp handshake and starts to lead me to the back of the shop. I’m royalty here. Their books show that I spend a fortune on jewellery. I don’t. I do supply them with illegal diamonds that allow them to turn massive profits. “I missed you, beautiful, what have you got for me today?” He continues our fake conversation for the benefit of the slutty looking sales girls in the shop. I’m amazed at these men here to buy rings that promise forever and the sales woman’s boobs are what gets them to blow all their money.

“I need some stones cut to move elsewhere and emeralds from Zambia are for you, Sam.” I’m not in the mood for chatting. I never am. I cannot relate to these people, they’re criminals but they have no idea what blood feels like between your fingers or what the smell of a smoking gun is like. No, they are still normal. Clean and untainted by the true horror of their precious stones.

“Oh, I love emeralds. The green is always so amazing and once you cut them, they come alive.” He answers as if I care. Emeralds remind me of the tears in Callum’s eyes after I cut Eiran to pieces and they found me. I fucking hate them, they represent disappointment and loss. There is no beauty in that.

The stones are tipped onto a small table where each one is inspected under a magnifying glass and light, he makes a detailed list of every stone. It takes forever. “So I heard Callum is getting really bad.” His attempt at small talk is scratching at a raw wound. I ignore him. Not only do I not care to discuss it, we do not need the world knowing how sick the boss is. Not yet. I am not sure this web of crime is ready for a lady boss. They won’t have a choice, but I know there will be upheaval. Not everyone is going to accept me and that’s okay, I expect it. There will be war when Callum dies and I’m ready to fight it.

“Are we done yet, Sam? I don’t have all fucking day.” I snap out at him. He rolls his eyes and picks up the shop phone. “Lydia, go get Miss Leahy some lunch while we finish up choosing her next piece. Vegetarian, no meat.” He gives me a shut up look and carries on sorting the small pile of gemstones. I don’t eat meat, Callum taught me to be weary of food, after all, he was poisoned for years. That aside, I cannot bear the thought of eating something bloody. Fish, even chicken I can stomach but red meat makes me want to hurl.

“Meet any cute guys yet?” His idle chatter carries on.

“A few, none that you’ll see around here.” I know my reputation is clear in our circles even though he would never say it aloud. “You like university boys too much, Avery? You need to look for a man. One that wears an actual suit not dreadlocks and a wetsuit.” The thing is, people would miss someone in a suit. A silly college boy doing stupid shit and disappear all the time. “Sam, you have far too much time to think about men. I’m not looking for nor do I need a man in my life. There isn’t room for it all.” The silent but underlying truth silences him for a few minutes. I am going to be consumed by this business when Callum is gone, I won’t have time for fun.

“I had lunch with a hot guy from the Gucci store last week.” He could date a Gucci salesman, it would be a good fit. Dirty diamond dealer and fashion dunce. “And?” I ask not really caring about his answer but keen to pass the time. The silly girl from the front brings me a healthy sandwich and a cold pressed juice from the vegan shop around the corner and dumps one next to Sam before slinking back out of the office again.

“I don’t like her.” I make the statement aloud when I really shouldn’t have.

“Neither do I. I’m thinking of reasons to fire her, give me a chance.” He answers without looking up from the shiny stones in front of him, he is drawn to them where I am repulsed by them. We see very different things in them. By the time Sam is done the entire afternoon has passed and I’m loathe to return to the office, but I always do. I end every day running through the days’ work with Callum and tormenting Eiran.

I STOP AT A LOCAL
jazz lounge on the way home from the office, I know Eiran has followed me. I know he’s watching me I want him to watch. I get off knowing he can see me with them. I sip on a glass of wine from my family’s wine farm, each vintage is now in some way named after my mother. Rowan never let her go, he’s still mourning her absence every single day. I roll up my sleeves and unbutton my collar exposing my chest, allowing my true colours to leak out for the world to see. I lean back in the leather chair and listen to the humming of the music and the people. The eclectic mix of artists and business people, the rich and poor melt together over booze and melody. The smoke and wine mix to fill the air with life and lies, no one in here is who they seem. I like simple places like this, where I can let my guard down and live, even just for a little bit. My foot swings to the music and I watch the people fill up the space. The university students love the place and the crowd is young and vibrant, couples dance in between the tables and the smoke and wine smell mingles with lust. Watching them rub up against each other makes me horny and I squeeze my thighs together, but it just makes it worse. My eyes begin to wander, looking for someone that could be used for a little stress relief tonight. A wicked smile starts to form on my face as I catch a glimpse of Eiran across the street. He’s sitting on a restaurant balcony, eating food he doesn’t like so that he can watch me. I know he hates curry so the Indian restaurant is definitely not his idea of a good dinner. He knows I’m hunting, he knows me too well. There are two older men sitting a bit away from me, they’re up against the wall trying to look without being seen.
I see you boys, let’s play.

Sam arrives catching my eye with a small wave and a shake of his head, I wish I could say we were friends but I don’t have friends. If I did, Sam would be one. I usually save this sort of recreation for the weekends, today I’m antsy and something’s off. Something is making me want to kill. I start flirting with my eyes, they notice me—they always do. It’s too easy, they are all so predictable. When I walk by them to the bathrooms, their eyes follow me first, I notice the subtle elbow and whisper as one eggs the other on. He shakes his head as I disappear around the corner, he’s a good guy, he won’t follow me in here, how boring. I’ll get him on the way back. Or them. I like the idea of them, anything that will scratch this itch right now. I don’t need to pee, nor would I use the filthy restrooms if I did, but I stand in the stall for a few minutes, reading the graffiti and waiting a believable amount of time. I stare down at the uncomfortable heels that have become my uniform anytime I’m not in my own house. I see my face in the shiny patent finish, a face I barely recognise anymore. I hear the band taking a break outside, the lull in music and buzz in voices alerts me to the fact this bathroom will soon be full of women so I flush the toilet I didn’t even sit on and exit. The long passage is filling with bodies moving against me, I hope I haven’t missed the two men I hoped to prey on. A familiar feeling starts to creep up my spine, I stand a little straighter and I smile. I like this feeling. The pins and needles of doing something that is wrong. I know it’s wrong. I crossed the line between what I do and who I am a long time ago. Incapable of separating killing for a job and fun, I became a murderer and not a hired hit. I like being wrong. It cancels out the need to have feelings that would fill the gaping hole in my heart. No one is meant to love a killer so my solitude is validated by what I chose to do.

The two men have moved to the bar and I see the blond one looking over his shoulder, checking the passage entrance. I sit at their table in the hope that if they won’t follow me, I will just join them. I see the smile and the chatter exchanged as they notice me on their walk back, too damn easy. He runs his hand through the long mop on his head and licks his lips, I have whet his appetite and he’s about to feed my demons. His friend is bit more introverted, he walks one step behind as if there is no way I would be here for him, he’s used to being second best to his hot friend. Only I don’t see the appeal, the shy one intrigues me. His beard and neat hair tell me he is a straight line sort of fellow. I am going to make this good looking blond friend feel like he does—insignificant and unworthy. Mind games excite me, I love to fuck with people’s feelings. I almost want to laugh out loud as I watch the two of them hesitate before they finally approach the table.

“Hello gents.” I greet them looking only at the one with dark hair, his eyes are down as if he is embarrassed by my attention or avoiding it at all costs. Something tells me he isn’t what meets the eye and I feel a prickle of warning. Blondie offers me his drink as he sits. “No thanks, that looks better.” I point at his friend’s whiskey, five points for choosing a big boy drink and not a fucking beer. He seems loathe to give it to me but slides it over, his friend sits between us, I can sense he is used to the attention, probably a bit of a man slut. “So are you going to tell me your name before I drink from your glass?” Eyes on the man across from me, ignore his buddy the game is going to get fun. “Mathew,” he stutters out. Gah, I just knew it would be some proper name. I bet he went a private school and has finished university with a law degree or something equally boring. I glance at his friend, waiting for him to answer me, I know he will whether I wanted to know his name or not. Killing him is going to be fun, I bet he cries like a girl. “Owen. And what’s your name beautiful?” The way he drags out beautiful makes me grind my teeth. He thinks I’m some silly girl who models or cuts hair. I’m so tired of being underestimated.

“Avery.” I answer looking at Mathew as I sip on his drink. “You have good taste Mathew, expensive but good.” He smiles and I can see Owen’s confusion in my peripheral vision, I don’t care about him though. I like what I’m doing to Mathew—he’s is smiling now and sitting up straighter.

“It should be, he’s a doctor.” Mr Jealousy pipes in from outside our little bubble and my attention snaps around to him my expression should tell him enough.
I want to murder you—run away while you can.

“And what do you do, Owen?” I ask because I have to keep him a little engaged not because I care. I can guess before he even says it. “I’m a gynaecologist.” I knew it would be something ridiculous. He bores me, make no mistake, he’s something to look at, strong jaw, just enough stubble to make the girls wet their panties and arms that tell me he goes to some yuppie gym. Oh, Owen is a good looking lad, but there is no mystery. What you see is what you get—good looking half-wit that looks at vaginas all day. “What do you do, Avery?” I love this part, I slip my hand into my small bag and take out a business card, my red nails click as I set it down in front of him.

Avery Leahy.

CEO O’Reilly Holdings International.

A name that’s plastered on billboards all over the globe. I’ve been in business magazines and spoken at the University that the two of them most likely attended. I eyeball him waiting on a response but he’s dumbstruck so I go back to Mathew who has a huge smile because I managed to silence his cocky friend.

“Dance with me, Doctor Mathew.” I play on his ego a little but really I just want to touch him. He looks like he feels good under those stiff clothes, I like touching. I turn my eyes downward a little so I’m not as intimidating as I usually am as he holds out a hand and stands up next to me. Too easy. I look out the windows so that I can see across the street as Eiran sits drinking and watching. His venomous eyes stare at me and I can see even from here he clenches his jaw. Mathew’s hand settles into the small of my back. It feels good, I like the warmth as he guides me to a small corner where there’s just enough room to dance if you get really close to each other. I glance over Matthew’s shoulder to see Owen sipping his beer, I’ve battered his ego and he looks upset—shame poor him. Mathew smells good as he pulls me close to him, a little more in control than I thought he would be. I can feel him as he begins to sway me, leading the dance. I knew private schools make the boys learn to dance. My head rests perfectly in his neck as I’m a little shorter than he is and I see his pulse right before my eyes, I imagine his blood pouring from it. The hands that were so gentlemanly earlier creep a little lower resting almost on my ass and I suck in a breath so he knows I noticed. The deep notes of the music lull me into smooth movements with him, I like this feeling. I always like this feeling, when they don’t know any better and try to seduce me. My eyes open enough to see the fury brewing in his friend, left at the table as we get sensually acquainted between all these other bodies. Mathew leans his head down a little lower so I can feel his breath—the breath I plan to rob him of later on. Just a little longer and I know the temptation of kissing me will be too much and his gentlemanly control will crumble. I pull my body flush with his. I can feel that it affects him, men cannot hide their lust like we can. I won’t lie, if I was wearing knickers they’d be soaked because Mathew is good at this. He gets overlooked by the ladies often but when they notice they are rewarded. I run a hand through the hair in the nape of is neck and he growls in my ear. “You make it hard to be a gentleman, Avery.” Oh, I know I do. “So don’t be a gentleman then.” I hiss back on his neck so that he can feel my lips and I know I’ve won. Mathew kisses me, some people notice others don’t, Owen notices and leaves for the bar—well there goes half the fun. His tongue tastes of the whiskey I like to drink and his hands are rough as he holds me tighter on my exposed skin. Kissing is the most intimate thing in the world to me, I can tell so much about them when I kiss them. My heart beats a little faster and I feel my breath hitch as I swallow hard to hide the physical reaction I’m having. I hold on a little tighter and push harder against him seeking the connection. My body responds to touch, not emotion, the physical feel of his body against me is what elicits the response. The warmth rising up my chest, the buzz of nerve ending coming to life. Touch me, kiss me I live for that high of being touched. You cannot disguise or fake a kiss, Mathew is filled with hidden passion and secrets. I open my eyes after he stops, my breath is taken away just for a minute. I love this part where I feel it. No emotion, not the electric shock of sex dancing through me, the pulse of lust beating in my veins. He pulls me even closer and keeps dancing, I wonder if he’s afraid I’ll be gone if he lets go. Over his shoulder, I look across the street to the parked cars and see Eiran standing behind one, his eyes bore holes into mine and I smile at him. I take a hand off of Mathew’s back and slide it between us so I can feel his hard on through his pants. He stiffens as I touch him, and grabs my hand to pull it away. He grabs my ass hard and bites my earlobe before he whispers again, “I would prefer if you saved that for when we are alone, Avery. I don’t like to share and I especially don’t like Owen to see when I win.” He thinks he won.