ALIAS_chick
Cadet
awesome.
i still wanna know who the mole is. im going nuts not knowing.
update soon.
i still wanna know who the mole is. im going nuts not knowing.
update soon.
Absolution
- Thread starter YoungStarsOwner
- Start date
sydneymicheal
Cadet
So it's not Syd or Jack, not that I had any doubt...
But I'm thinking JJ or Weiss cause she said
I would rather it be JJ than Weiss though but either way whoever it is might as well kill themselves cause I would not want to be on the recieving end of the wrath of the Bristows and Derevkos...It's gonna be ugly
Thanks for the pm...
Please update again soon.
But I'm thinking JJ or Weiss cause she said
I think those were the two she was most comfortable with.
I would rather it be JJ than Weiss though but either way whoever it is might as well kill themselves cause I would not want to be on the recieving end of the wrath of the Bristows and Derevkos...It's gonna be ugly
Thanks for the pm...
Please update again soon.
YoungStarsOwner
Cadet
Sorry guys, no new chapter yet, but... one of my friends is making me a dustjacket type image for Illusion and she asked me about tag lines, either a sentence from the story, or about the story etc... Problem is I am drawing a blank so i was wondering if you as the readers had any thoughts? let me know if you think of anything.
Erin
Erin
ALIAS_chick
Cadet
im drawing a blank too.
sorry i cant help more.
sorry i cant help more.
sydneymicheal
Cadet
Need. Update.
Please. Update. Soon.
Please. Update. Soon.
YoungStarsOwner
Cadet
Authors Note: I am no longer posting this fic at Fanfiction.net do to lack of responses and sorry for the long wait!
Chapter 6 Replies
CelticJedi Was it really Kat? read and find out.
AliasChick Hopefully you're not nuts by now lol
sydneymicheal So you think it's Will or JJ they seem to be the popular suspects.
Amisha would i spoil you? No way!
Gaia welcome to the thread, I hope you enjoy your stay!
Previously in Absolution…
She glanced at him briefly. “I don’t know how I can thank you for coming. Soon this entire mess will be over and we’ll know the truth.” Kat’s breathing came in short, shallow breaths. Her back was to him, but her position did not hinder her ability to hear the rustle of clothing and the sound of a metal on metal as a gun grazed against his belt buckle. It was the decisive moment. Kat straightened, keeping her movements slow and predictable. “It was you,” she said hoarsely. She turned around slowly and her eyes locked onto the barrel of his gun. “All this time, it was you. Why did you do it? I trusted you.”
“Perhaps your trust was misplaced.” He jabbed the gun against her chest and reached around grabbing her gun from the waistband of her pants.
“Obviously,” she retorted.
“Back up,” he gestured to her with the gun.
“Who are you working for…” she asked following his orders. “…my mother, Khasinau, the Covenant, who?”
“What do you care?”
“I have a right to know who is trying to have me killed.”
“You don’t have any rights little girl.”
She eyed him furiously. “It’s the Covenant, isn’t it?”
“What does it matter now?”
“Because this is my life you’re screwing around with!”
“Not for much longer.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t allow you to leave here… not alive.”
“This isn’t right. I haven’t done anything.”
“It’s not what you’ve done, it’s what you will do,” he said simply.
“What will I do?” the tears brimming in her eyes finally escaped creating tracks down her cheeks. “Who do you really work for?”
“The Covenant will do whatever it must to ensure that Rambaldi’s prophecies are fulfilled; we cannot allow you to interfere.”
“You cannot allow me to interfere, this is my life you sonofabitch. I’m a human being, a person, not a prophecy that may or may not even come true by some whack-job from the 15th century.” She was screaming at him now, her eyes were wild with anger and tears streaming down her cheeks as her voice grew hoarse. She took a few gasping breaths before continuing, her voice quieter now as he stepped towards her, his gun trained to her chest. “I trusted you. I told you everything, my life, my pain and all this time, you were just waiting to use it against me.”
He cocked his gun.
“Please don’t do this.” Kat’s voice trembled as he took another step.
“I have to, I’m sorry.”
Three shots rang out. The first plunged into her stomach and the second resulted in a fiery pain on her upper arm, while the third hit her hard in the chest knocking the breath from her lungs. Kat crumpled to her knees, her lungs gasping for breath and her eyelids fluttering closed. Sticky blood pooled onto the concrete floor staining it red.
“What the hell are you doing here?” The mole had turned his gun on Sark now.
“The Covenant sent me.”
“I could have handled her myself.”
Apparently they suspected otherwise.” Sark lowered the still smoking gun to his side and walked towards Kat. “I see they were right. You should have taken care of her the moment you showed up and her back was turned,” he sounded disgusted. “I suppose that wouldn’t have guaranteed that you would even have killed her. You mistook her shoulder for her chest, although the second did appear to hit its target.” Sark gently nudged Kat’s head with his foot, then knelt beside the blood and checked her pulse. He stood, “she’s dead.”
“Then it’s done.”
“And now you have a rather large mess to clean up.” Sark sounded more inconvenienced that angry. “Return to Los Angeles, I will take care of the body.”
The mole pocketed his gun. “I wasn’t aware you worked for The Covenant.”
Sark retrieved a linen handkerchief from his suit pocket and used it to wipe the blood from the tip of his finger. “My inheritance finances their operation; of course I am aligned with them,” he pocketed the handkerchief. “In the trunk is a plastic sheet, get it.”
The mole obeyed and returned a few moments later. They spread it on the ground and then rolled Kat’s body onto it. The height of the sheet was a great deal larger than Kat and her body was completely covered when they rolled her up in it, securing it with a rope. The mole helped him carry the body to the car and they dropped her in the trunk. Sark shut the lid with a loud bang. He turned to the mole.
“Return to LA and wait for your contact, I will take care of the body.”
The mole nodded and turned to get in his car.
“I am rather displeased with your handling of the situation,” Sark said. “I will be notifying your superiors of it.” He got in his car and drove off leaving a blood stained concrete floor, and a dusty trail in his wake.
Absolution
Chapter 7
Sark was pissed.
He rapped his knuckles on the car’s steering wheel and took the corner with a harsh turn. He’d doubled back twice to ensure he wasn’t being followed before continuing to the safe point. The minutes ticked by, endlessly long in the intense early summer heat of the Paris countryside. He was sweating despite the blasting air conditioner. He was a fast driver by any accounts, but today was different and he took the dirt road as if it were a racetrack screeching to a halt with a spray of gravel.
The driver’s side door was thrust open with so much force it propelled backwards striking his knees as he got out of the car. He couldn’t open the trunk fast enough. When he saw her lying face down, still, and not moving, his stomach dropped. When she gave a shuddering sob, he grabbed her sweat soaked, plastic wrapped body roughly and hauled her out of the trunk.
Without her arms to support herself, she fell hard to the ground and to her knees, not even noticing the pain as rocks dug into them. She was gasping for air, finally being freed from near suffocation in the trunk.
“Oh god,” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Get it off me,” she sobbed referring to the plastic wrap around her body.
“Are you alright?” Sark asked as he helped her stand and worked fervently to unwind the wrap.
Kat didn’t answer, once she was free of the plastic. She stumbled around the side of the car and onto her knees emptying the contents of her stomach over the grass and rock.
“Are you alright?” Sark yelled at her. She vomited again and he held her hair back from her face, while visually searching her body for signs of injury other than the blood that caked her clothes.
Kat coughed and spit as she continued to fight to regain her breath, only to be defeated when the nausea arose. She leaned forward onto her hands and knees, emptying what little was remaining in her stomach. She spit again and her breathing began to slow despite the heaving sobs that overtook her body.
“Katia! God dammit, answer me!” Sark yelled at her shaking her shoulders and pushing her into a kneeling position. He began to tear at her clothes. She hit him, tried to push his hands away and cried harder as he ripped her clothes off. He pulled a knife from a strap on his ankle to cut off her clothes and she screamed in terror. As she tried to scramble away, Sark realized she thought he was going to hurt her. He threw the knife away; it landed somewhere behind the car. It had been a gift from Irina on his twenty-first birthday, but at this point, he didn’t care if he ever saw it again.
One arm was already out of the sleeve of Kat’s light jacket and he pulled the other out, taking note of the moderate amount of blood on her arm. Sark gripped her shirt with two hands; despite her protests and the fingernails scoring the skin of his forearms as she fought him, he ripped it in half, leaving it to pool at her waist, covered in crimson red. He ripped off the blood bags that were taped to the vest. Then he pulled the Kevlar over her head as quickly as he could. She was wearing a thin tank top, and that too, like her shirt he ripped from her body. She was crying, telling him to stop, but he didn’t…couldn’t… even though her fingernails were scraping his skin as she fought him trying to get away.
“Stop,” he ordered her, pushing her hands away from him. She scraped his wrist; he grabbed her face between his hands forcing her to look him in the eyes, “Stop it,” he ordered forcefully, his voice well above a gentle range.
She calmed, although growing limp was possibly a better term as he examined her for injuries. She had been crying so hard, he’d thought the bullets had gone through the Kevlar vest. They hadn’t, he realized running his hand down the skin of her back searching for wounds. Her stomach was covered in blood and he used the back of her shirt to wipe most of it away.
She hadn’t been hurt, although he could make out the distinct bruises that were already beginning to form from being shot through the Kevlar. One on her chest, just above her breast from the third shot, the one he’d fired out of fear the mole would aim for her head next. On her lower abdomen was the bruise where the first shot had hit, and he could tell already that it would be a nasty one. He brushed his fingers over it and she shuddered. Looking up at her he saw that she was visibly shaking, trembling as she covered her arms over her bra, feebly attempting to shield herself from him; tears dripped down her cheeks and her breathing was still laboured.
“Did you get it?” she asked.
“What?”
Her voice trembled. “Did you get the damned video?”
“Yes, we got it.”
His words seemed to set her off again, and she cried lowering her chin to her chest, her shoulders heaving.
“Katia?” he asked softly moving her hand to cover the wound on her upper arm.
“I told him everything,” she said after a few moments, watching as he finished ripping her tank top in half tying it tightly over the bullet graze on her upper arm.
“What?”
“I told him everything,” his eyes met hers and she looked away. “He knows everything about me. I trusted him…” Kat’s hands fell to the ground digging into the dirt. “He knows about the baby, and Papa, he knows what Daddy, did to me. I trusted him, why did he do it. Why?”
Sark was confused, what was she talking about, what baby, whose baby? “Katia?” he pulled her hands from the dirt separating her fingernails from digging into her palms. The way she sounded angered him. “What did he do to you?” Sark asked. “What did Jack do to you?”
“Not Jack,” she shook her head and Sark wrapped his arms around her awkwardly as she slipped against his chest. “Daddy Caldwell.”
“Who is that?” he asked softly, but she didn’t answer, she was crying to hard.
Sark looked down over her back as he hugged her, seeing for the first time, the scars that criss crossed her back. He’d had far too much experience in his line of work, not to know they had been caused by a whip of some sort or another. Likely leather, he could tell from the way the scars curved across her back. He reached out to touch them, but she flinched at the contact and he pulled his hand away quickly; she didn’t like them to be touched.
He held her for a few moments longer, and then stood helping Kat to her feet. He watched as she wiped the tears from her eyes, finally able to control her emotions, but she only succeeded in smearing the blood across her face. Sark took off his sunglasses and shrugged out of his suit jacket, setting both on the hood of the car. He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off, using the silk material to wipe the blood off his hands first and then her arm and stomach getting as much blood off as he could.
“Are you okay?” he brushed her hair back from her face.
Kat nodded, folding her arms across her chest. “Is it over?”
Sark nodded, “we have the evidence, his confession, now you can go home.” He turned on his heel and walked towards the empty car that was waiting for them, a red sports car convertible. He opened the trunk and rifled through a bag pulling out a black short-sleeved button up shirt for himself and a blue one for Kat. He grabbed a bottle of water, warmed from the sun and a small hand towel.
Kat looked away as he poured water over the towel and then wiped away the remaining blood from her face, arms, and stomach. She tensed as he wiped the towel over her neck, and looked down; focussing her attention on the few scars, he had on his abdomen, knife scars she realized.
“Katia?” Sark called her name softly, but she avoided his gaze, her eyes cast downward and seemingly vacant. She trembled and her body went rigid; he held her closer, laying his hand on her upper back. “It’s over now.” He wiped the towel down her neck and over her chest rubbing at the dried blood caked to her skin. He adjusted her bra strap sliding it back up and over her shoulder when he heard the slightest of whispers. If he hadn’t been watching her face and seen her lips move, he wouldn’t have even realized she’d been speaking at all.
“Stop.”
Her whisper was barely audible, but insistent.
“Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.”
Sark took his hands off her, reached for his button up blue shirt and helped her slip her injured arm through the sleeve. Kat attempted to fasten the buttons, but her hands trembled so badly she couldn’t and he took over. Sark thumbed away a tear, which dripped from the corner of her eye, and Kat pulled away.
“Katia,” Sark reached for her shoulder, but she jerked away.
“Please, just don’t touch me,” she said softly and got in the passenger side of the convertible.
Confused, Sark watched her get in the car before slipping on and buttoning his own shirt. He tossed Kat’s damaged clothing, his, and the towel into the trunk of the first car along with the Kevlar vest and the remnants of their existence. Once he was in the car and driving away, he pressed a red button on a remote control and the car blew up.
Kat whipped her head around, watching the exploding car lift itself several feet off the ground. She turned back to Sark, “Julian was that really necessary?”
Sark glanced at her quickly surprised that she had calmed considerably and was speaking to him again so soon. “Blood is hell to get out of the interior. How is your shoulder?”
“It’s fine. It really doesn’t hurt that much.”
Sark glanced at her again. “I apologize; he shot you sooner than I anticipated.”
“It wasn’t your fault Julian.” Kat interrupted and leaned her elbow on the car door, resting her head in her hands. “No one could have predicted he would shoot that fast. Besides he only hit my arm, it’s not like it was fatal or anything.”
“You’re angry.”
“Of course I’m angry Julian. I told him everything about me; things I could barely even admit to myself. I trusted him, with more than just that, with my safety and all the while, he was selling my secrets to The Covenant. I thought I could trust him.”
“Katia, the first thing you learn in this life, the life we lead, is that you can’t trust anyone, not co-workers, friends, not even family. Everyone can be bought; every person has a price, monetary, moral or otherwise.”
“I suppose you’ve exercised that option on numerous occasions,” Kat murmured and wiped the tears from her eyes.
“What did you say?”
“I asked where we were going,” she lied.
“To my home in Marseilles,” Sark answered, knowing that that hadn’t been her original statement.
“I thought I was going home.”
“We will meet Katya at the airport tomorrow, and she will take you home.”
“Isn’t Marseilles, like three hours from here?”
“Three and a half,” he answered more precisely.
“Oh God,” she groaned.
“Why is that?”
“Three hours in a car with you,” Kat looked at him sceptically. “Julian, you drive like a maniac. We’ll be lucky if we make it there alive.”
Sark laughed and increased the gas; he had no doubt that getting to Marseilles as soon as possible would be best for both of them. Katia simply wasn’t herself.
Well what did you think, like dislike? a litte tension between Sark and Kat reviews? I love quotes!
Chapter 6 Replies
CelticJedi Was it really Kat? read and find out.
AliasChick Hopefully you're not nuts by now lol
sydneymicheal So you think it's Will or JJ they seem to be the popular suspects.
Amisha would i spoil you? No way!
Gaia welcome to the thread, I hope you enjoy your stay!
Previously in Absolution…
She glanced at him briefly. “I don’t know how I can thank you for coming. Soon this entire mess will be over and we’ll know the truth.” Kat’s breathing came in short, shallow breaths. Her back was to him, but her position did not hinder her ability to hear the rustle of clothing and the sound of a metal on metal as a gun grazed against his belt buckle. It was the decisive moment. Kat straightened, keeping her movements slow and predictable. “It was you,” she said hoarsely. She turned around slowly and her eyes locked onto the barrel of his gun. “All this time, it was you. Why did you do it? I trusted you.”
“Perhaps your trust was misplaced.” He jabbed the gun against her chest and reached around grabbing her gun from the waistband of her pants.
“Obviously,” she retorted.
“Back up,” he gestured to her with the gun.
“Who are you working for…” she asked following his orders. “…my mother, Khasinau, the Covenant, who?”
“What do you care?”
“I have a right to know who is trying to have me killed.”
“You don’t have any rights little girl.”
She eyed him furiously. “It’s the Covenant, isn’t it?”
“What does it matter now?”
“Because this is my life you’re screwing around with!”
“Not for much longer.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t allow you to leave here… not alive.”
“This isn’t right. I haven’t done anything.”
“It’s not what you’ve done, it’s what you will do,” he said simply.
“What will I do?” the tears brimming in her eyes finally escaped creating tracks down her cheeks. “Who do you really work for?”
“The Covenant will do whatever it must to ensure that Rambaldi’s prophecies are fulfilled; we cannot allow you to interfere.”
“You cannot allow me to interfere, this is my life you sonofabitch. I’m a human being, a person, not a prophecy that may or may not even come true by some whack-job from the 15th century.” She was screaming at him now, her eyes were wild with anger and tears streaming down her cheeks as her voice grew hoarse. She took a few gasping breaths before continuing, her voice quieter now as he stepped towards her, his gun trained to her chest. “I trusted you. I told you everything, my life, my pain and all this time, you were just waiting to use it against me.”
He cocked his gun.
“Please don’t do this.” Kat’s voice trembled as he took another step.
“I have to, I’m sorry.”
Three shots rang out. The first plunged into her stomach and the second resulted in a fiery pain on her upper arm, while the third hit her hard in the chest knocking the breath from her lungs. Kat crumpled to her knees, her lungs gasping for breath and her eyelids fluttering closed. Sticky blood pooled onto the concrete floor staining it red.
“What the hell are you doing here?” The mole had turned his gun on Sark now.
“The Covenant sent me.”
“I could have handled her myself.”
Apparently they suspected otherwise.” Sark lowered the still smoking gun to his side and walked towards Kat. “I see they were right. You should have taken care of her the moment you showed up and her back was turned,” he sounded disgusted. “I suppose that wouldn’t have guaranteed that you would even have killed her. You mistook her shoulder for her chest, although the second did appear to hit its target.” Sark gently nudged Kat’s head with his foot, then knelt beside the blood and checked her pulse. He stood, “she’s dead.”
“Then it’s done.”
“And now you have a rather large mess to clean up.” Sark sounded more inconvenienced that angry. “Return to Los Angeles, I will take care of the body.”
The mole pocketed his gun. “I wasn’t aware you worked for The Covenant.”
Sark retrieved a linen handkerchief from his suit pocket and used it to wipe the blood from the tip of his finger. “My inheritance finances their operation; of course I am aligned with them,” he pocketed the handkerchief. “In the trunk is a plastic sheet, get it.”
The mole obeyed and returned a few moments later. They spread it on the ground and then rolled Kat’s body onto it. The height of the sheet was a great deal larger than Kat and her body was completely covered when they rolled her up in it, securing it with a rope. The mole helped him carry the body to the car and they dropped her in the trunk. Sark shut the lid with a loud bang. He turned to the mole.
“Return to LA and wait for your contact, I will take care of the body.”
The mole nodded and turned to get in his car.
“I am rather displeased with your handling of the situation,” Sark said. “I will be notifying your superiors of it.” He got in his car and drove off leaving a blood stained concrete floor, and a dusty trail in his wake.
Absolution
Chapter 7
Sark was pissed.
He rapped his knuckles on the car’s steering wheel and took the corner with a harsh turn. He’d doubled back twice to ensure he wasn’t being followed before continuing to the safe point. The minutes ticked by, endlessly long in the intense early summer heat of the Paris countryside. He was sweating despite the blasting air conditioner. He was a fast driver by any accounts, but today was different and he took the dirt road as if it were a racetrack screeching to a halt with a spray of gravel.
The driver’s side door was thrust open with so much force it propelled backwards striking his knees as he got out of the car. He couldn’t open the trunk fast enough. When he saw her lying face down, still, and not moving, his stomach dropped. When she gave a shuddering sob, he grabbed her sweat soaked, plastic wrapped body roughly and hauled her out of the trunk.
Without her arms to support herself, she fell hard to the ground and to her knees, not even noticing the pain as rocks dug into them. She was gasping for air, finally being freed from near suffocation in the trunk.
“Oh god,” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Get it off me,” she sobbed referring to the plastic wrap around her body.
“Are you alright?” Sark asked as he helped her stand and worked fervently to unwind the wrap.
Kat didn’t answer, once she was free of the plastic. She stumbled around the side of the car and onto her knees emptying the contents of her stomach over the grass and rock.
“Are you alright?” Sark yelled at her. She vomited again and he held her hair back from her face, while visually searching her body for signs of injury other than the blood that caked her clothes.
Kat coughed and spit as she continued to fight to regain her breath, only to be defeated when the nausea arose. She leaned forward onto her hands and knees, emptying what little was remaining in her stomach. She spit again and her breathing began to slow despite the heaving sobs that overtook her body.
“Katia! God dammit, answer me!” Sark yelled at her shaking her shoulders and pushing her into a kneeling position. He began to tear at her clothes. She hit him, tried to push his hands away and cried harder as he ripped her clothes off. He pulled a knife from a strap on his ankle to cut off her clothes and she screamed in terror. As she tried to scramble away, Sark realized she thought he was going to hurt her. He threw the knife away; it landed somewhere behind the car. It had been a gift from Irina on his twenty-first birthday, but at this point, he didn’t care if he ever saw it again.
One arm was already out of the sleeve of Kat’s light jacket and he pulled the other out, taking note of the moderate amount of blood on her arm. Sark gripped her shirt with two hands; despite her protests and the fingernails scoring the skin of his forearms as she fought him, he ripped it in half, leaving it to pool at her waist, covered in crimson red. He ripped off the blood bags that were taped to the vest. Then he pulled the Kevlar over her head as quickly as he could. She was wearing a thin tank top, and that too, like her shirt he ripped from her body. She was crying, telling him to stop, but he didn’t…couldn’t… even though her fingernails were scraping his skin as she fought him trying to get away.
“Stop,” he ordered her, pushing her hands away from him. She scraped his wrist; he grabbed her face between his hands forcing her to look him in the eyes, “Stop it,” he ordered forcefully, his voice well above a gentle range.
She calmed, although growing limp was possibly a better term as he examined her for injuries. She had been crying so hard, he’d thought the bullets had gone through the Kevlar vest. They hadn’t, he realized running his hand down the skin of her back searching for wounds. Her stomach was covered in blood and he used the back of her shirt to wipe most of it away.
She hadn’t been hurt, although he could make out the distinct bruises that were already beginning to form from being shot through the Kevlar. One on her chest, just above her breast from the third shot, the one he’d fired out of fear the mole would aim for her head next. On her lower abdomen was the bruise where the first shot had hit, and he could tell already that it would be a nasty one. He brushed his fingers over it and she shuddered. Looking up at her he saw that she was visibly shaking, trembling as she covered her arms over her bra, feebly attempting to shield herself from him; tears dripped down her cheeks and her breathing was still laboured.
“Did you get it?” she asked.
“What?”
Her voice trembled. “Did you get the damned video?”
“Yes, we got it.”
His words seemed to set her off again, and she cried lowering her chin to her chest, her shoulders heaving.
“Katia?” he asked softly moving her hand to cover the wound on her upper arm.
“I told him everything,” she said after a few moments, watching as he finished ripping her tank top in half tying it tightly over the bullet graze on her upper arm.
“What?”
“I told him everything,” his eyes met hers and she looked away. “He knows everything about me. I trusted him…” Kat’s hands fell to the ground digging into the dirt. “He knows about the baby, and Papa, he knows what Daddy, did to me. I trusted him, why did he do it. Why?”
Sark was confused, what was she talking about, what baby, whose baby? “Katia?” he pulled her hands from the dirt separating her fingernails from digging into her palms. The way she sounded angered him. “What did he do to you?” Sark asked. “What did Jack do to you?”
“Not Jack,” she shook her head and Sark wrapped his arms around her awkwardly as she slipped against his chest. “Daddy Caldwell.”
“Who is that?” he asked softly, but she didn’t answer, she was crying to hard.
Sark looked down over her back as he hugged her, seeing for the first time, the scars that criss crossed her back. He’d had far too much experience in his line of work, not to know they had been caused by a whip of some sort or another. Likely leather, he could tell from the way the scars curved across her back. He reached out to touch them, but she flinched at the contact and he pulled his hand away quickly; she didn’t like them to be touched.
He held her for a few moments longer, and then stood helping Kat to her feet. He watched as she wiped the tears from her eyes, finally able to control her emotions, but she only succeeded in smearing the blood across her face. Sark took off his sunglasses and shrugged out of his suit jacket, setting both on the hood of the car. He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off, using the silk material to wipe the blood off his hands first and then her arm and stomach getting as much blood off as he could.
“Are you okay?” he brushed her hair back from her face.
Kat nodded, folding her arms across her chest. “Is it over?”
Sark nodded, “we have the evidence, his confession, now you can go home.” He turned on his heel and walked towards the empty car that was waiting for them, a red sports car convertible. He opened the trunk and rifled through a bag pulling out a black short-sleeved button up shirt for himself and a blue one for Kat. He grabbed a bottle of water, warmed from the sun and a small hand towel.
Kat looked away as he poured water over the towel and then wiped away the remaining blood from her face, arms, and stomach. She tensed as he wiped the towel over her neck, and looked down; focussing her attention on the few scars, he had on his abdomen, knife scars she realized.
“Katia?” Sark called her name softly, but she avoided his gaze, her eyes cast downward and seemingly vacant. She trembled and her body went rigid; he held her closer, laying his hand on her upper back. “It’s over now.” He wiped the towel down her neck and over her chest rubbing at the dried blood caked to her skin. He adjusted her bra strap sliding it back up and over her shoulder when he heard the slightest of whispers. If he hadn’t been watching her face and seen her lips move, he wouldn’t have even realized she’d been speaking at all.
“Stop.”
Her whisper was barely audible, but insistent.
“Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.”
Sark took his hands off her, reached for his button up blue shirt and helped her slip her injured arm through the sleeve. Kat attempted to fasten the buttons, but her hands trembled so badly she couldn’t and he took over. Sark thumbed away a tear, which dripped from the corner of her eye, and Kat pulled away.
“Katia,” Sark reached for her shoulder, but she jerked away.
“Please, just don’t touch me,” she said softly and got in the passenger side of the convertible.
Confused, Sark watched her get in the car before slipping on and buttoning his own shirt. He tossed Kat’s damaged clothing, his, and the towel into the trunk of the first car along with the Kevlar vest and the remnants of their existence. Once he was in the car and driving away, he pressed a red button on a remote control and the car blew up.
Kat whipped her head around, watching the exploding car lift itself several feet off the ground. She turned back to Sark, “Julian was that really necessary?”
Sark glanced at her quickly surprised that she had calmed considerably and was speaking to him again so soon. “Blood is hell to get out of the interior. How is your shoulder?”
“It’s fine. It really doesn’t hurt that much.”
Sark glanced at her again. “I apologize; he shot you sooner than I anticipated.”
“It wasn’t your fault Julian.” Kat interrupted and leaned her elbow on the car door, resting her head in her hands. “No one could have predicted he would shoot that fast. Besides he only hit my arm, it’s not like it was fatal or anything.”
“You’re angry.”
“Of course I’m angry Julian. I told him everything about me; things I could barely even admit to myself. I trusted him, with more than just that, with my safety and all the while, he was selling my secrets to The Covenant. I thought I could trust him.”
“Katia, the first thing you learn in this life, the life we lead, is that you can’t trust anyone, not co-workers, friends, not even family. Everyone can be bought; every person has a price, monetary, moral or otherwise.”
“I suppose you’ve exercised that option on numerous occasions,” Kat murmured and wiped the tears from her eyes.
“What did you say?”
“I asked where we were going,” she lied.
“To my home in Marseilles,” Sark answered, knowing that that hadn’t been her original statement.
“I thought I was going home.”
“We will meet Katya at the airport tomorrow, and she will take you home.”
“Isn’t Marseilles, like three hours from here?”
“Three and a half,” he answered more precisely.
“Oh God,” she groaned.
“Why is that?”
“Three hours in a car with you,” Kat looked at him sceptically. “Julian, you drive like a maniac. We’ll be lucky if we make it there alive.”
Sark laughed and increased the gas; he had no doubt that getting to Marseilles as soon as possible would be best for both of them. Katia simply wasn’t herself.
Well what did you think, like dislike? a litte tension between Sark and Kat reviews? I love quotes!
sydneymicheal
Cadet
Okay so now I am guessing either JJ or Weiss cause she said...
Can't wait to see what happens next.
Thanks for the pm...
well I hope it is not Weiss cause he will suffer even more than JJ cause he betrayed everyone, JJ is just someone new...
Can't wait to see what happens next.
Thanks for the pm...
YoungStarsOwner
Cadet
irinarocks
Cadet
Update! Woot! I'm glad Kat can finally go home to her family now. I hope whoever is responsible pays for this. I'm starting to like Yelena now.
sydneymicheal
Cadet
I don't know...but they sure are missing out on a great story...
update again soon.
I am dying to see if I was right about the mole.
LittleNicky
Cadet
I just found this story and I totally love it. I've read all of "Absolution" in one sitting, and now I'm off to read "Redemption" to catch up. Please add me to your PM list, and please update soon!
sydneymicheal
Cadet
Update soon Please 
YoungStarsOwner
Cadet
lol the next chapter is done, it's just at the beta's!
sydneymicheal
Cadet
Is the Beta done yet
I miss this story...
I miss this story...
YoungStarsOwner
Cadet
Gasp, a new chapter? yes it is, sorry for the long wait guys!
here is a new chapter of Absolution. I'll reply to last chapter replies later.
So i didn't get in to teachers college... I'm sure chapter reviews will make me feel better!
However, I did just finish the very last essay of my university career :grad: at least until next year when i need to take mosre classes to boost my average.
Thanks to Bev for Betaing, she's awesome!
previously
“Please, just don’t touch me,” she said softly and got in the passenger side of the convertible.
Confused, Sark watched her get in the car before slipping on and buttoning his own shirt. He tossed Kat’s damaged clothing, his, and the towel into the trunk of the first car along with the Kevlar vest and the remnants of their existence. Once he was in the car and driving away he pressed a red button on a remote control and the car blew up.
Kat whipped her head around, watching the exploding car lift itself several feet off the ground. She turned back to Sark, “Julian, was that really necessary?”
Sark glanced at her quickly surprised that she was speaking to him again so soon. “Blood is hell to get out of the interior. How is your shoulder?”
“It’s fine. It really doesn’t hurt that much.”
Sark glanced at her again. “I apologize, he shot you sooner than I anticipated-“
“It wasn’t your fault Julian.” Kat interrupted and leaned her elbow on the car door, resting her head in her hands. “No one could have predicted that he would shoot that fast, besides he only hit my arm, it’s not like it was fatal or anything.”
“You’re angry.”
“Of course I’m angry Julian. I told him everything about me; things I could barely even admit to myself. I trusted him, with more than just that, with my safety and all the while he was selling my secrets to The Covenant. I thought I could trust him.”
“Katia, the first thing you learn in this life, the life we lead, is that you can’t trust anyone, not co-workers, friends, not even family. Everyone can be bought; every person has a price, monetary, moral or otherwise.”
“I suppose you’ve exercised that option on numerous occasion,” Kat murmured and wiped the tears from her eyes.
“What did you say?”
“I asked where we were going,” she lied.
“To my home in Marseilles,” Sark answered, knowing that that hadn’t been her original statement.
“I thought I was going home.”
“We will meet Katya at the airport tomorrow, and she will take you home.”
“Isn’t Marseilles, like three hours from here?”
“Three and a half,” he answered more precisely.
“Oh God,” she groaned.
“Why is that?”
“Three hours in a car with you,” Kat looked at him sceptically. “Julian, you drive like a maniac, we’ll be lucky if we make it there alive.”
Sark laughed and increased the gas, he had no doubt that getting to Marseilles as soon as possible would be best for both of them, Katia wasn’t herself.
Absolution
Chapter 8
Sark peered out the window searching the grounds for Katarina as he dialled Katya’s cell phone.
“How did it go?”
“Not exactly as planned, however it could have been worse,” Sark replied.
“What does that mean?”
Sark detected a tinge of annoyance in her voice. Katya was never pleased when things didn’t go exactly as planned.
“He shot Katarina earlier than we anticipated.”
“Is she injured?”
“Slightly, he fired two shots. One hit the Kevlar, and the other grazed her arm; it will mend quickly.”
“It could just as easily have been her head.”
“I am aware of that,” he said dryly. “Was Ilya able to get the documentation, I requested?”
“He did,” Katya confirmed. “Have you spoken with Irina?”
“Not as of yet,” Sark opened the window. “I called some time ago, but Yelena answered. Irina had gone to the hospital. I will try her cell soon.”
“She’s worse then?” Katya inquired.
Sark noted the concern in her voice. “I assume since Yelena flew to Switzerland to help.” Sark stuck his head out the open window and finally spotted Kat sitting on the balcony railing of the bedroom terrace. “I’ll call again; however I doubt Katarina will speak with her.”
“Tell my niece, it’s her father or sister,” Katya suggested amusement present in her voice. “She’ll talk to Irina then.”
“Perhaps.”
“The plane will be at the landing strip at four O’clock tomorrow,” Katya informed him.
“Have you made the call?”
“Tomorrow,” she answered and, with nothing more to say, promptly hung up without so much as a good bye.
Sark glanced out the window once more to ensure Kat was still there and then proceeded to dial Irina’s cell phone; she picked up on the fourth ring.
“How is Katarina?” Irina asked immediately. “Lena said she’d been hurt.”
Sark slowly made his way towards Katarina’s room. “She’s fine, a bullet graze, nothing serious.”
“Are you sure?”
“She’s…”
“Yes?”
“Betrayed,” he answered simply. “She’s taking it with difficultly; I’m surprised.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s not as if she’s experiencing it for the first time.”
“No,” Irina agreed. “But it is the first time for a friend,” she added. “I’d like to speak to her.”
“I’ll make an attempt,” he said. “However, I don’t offer any guarantees.” Sark entered the bedroom and crossed the room to the balcony. He held out the phone to Kat.
“Who is it?” she asked sceptically.
“Your sister,” he lied.
“Sydney?” Kat grabbed the phone putting it to her ear.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
Kat glared at Sark and promptly ended the call.
Katia,” Sark took the phone back from her and redialled Irina’s number. “You need to speak with her.”
“I don’t care if I never hear her voice again.”
“Enough,” Sark handed the phone back to her. “You are acting like a child. Speak to your mother.”
Taking offence to being called a child, Kat reluctantly took the phone. “Hello.”
“Hello Katy-Katarina,” Irina quickly corrected herself. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” she answered curtly.
“Are you certain, Sark said you’d been shot?”
“Yes, it was just a graze.” Kat kept her answers short, there was no point in giving Irina any emotional ammunition to use against her.
“Katarina, I’m sorry things turned out the way they did.”
“There’s nothing you could have done about it, he was the mole…“ Kat broke off as she heard something on the other end of the phone; a code blue page. “Are you in a hospital?”
“I am yes,” Irina confirmed making her way to the silence of an empty stairwell.
“Oh…are you sick?”
Irina wondered if she heard actual concern in her daughter’s voice. “No sweetheart, I’m just visiting someone.” Silence resided on the other end of the phone; momentarily.
“Yet you claim to care about me.”
“Katarina, this is complicated,” Irina sighed.
“Whatever, are we done?”
“Sweetheart…“
“Goodbye Irina.” Kat hung up the phone and handed it back to Sark.
“You could at least be civil towards her, Katia,” Sark reprimanded.
“Julian, I will not discuss Irina with you.”
“Regardless of your want or lack of it, she is your mother and she deserves your respect.”
“Irina Derevko, has no idea how to be a mother. If she did, then she would be here, and then, she might earn my respect.”
Kat spoke with such vengeance in her voice and it angered him. Kat moved to slide off the railing and push past him, but he wouldn’t allow her. He stood close to her, one arm on either side of her body, essentially pinning her to the railing.
“Let me go.”
He refused, “no.”
“Julian, let…“
“No,” he interrupted. “You are not the only person in Irina’s world Katia. There are others she must consider.”
“I will not discuss Irina with you,” Kat repeated, her voice cold and distant.
“You are angry, that is understandable. You were betrayed, but not by her and taking out your anger on Irina or myself is unacceptable.” Kat was seething, he could see the anger flashing in her dark eyes.
“Leave me alone.” Kat reached her hands up to push him away forcefully, but he caught her off guard and forced them to her sides. “Let me go, Julian,” she repeated for the third time.
“No.”
“What is it that you want?” She was struggling against him, trying to pull her arms free, but Sark kept them firmly at her sides.
“What are you afraid of?”
His question caught her off guard and she stared blankly for a moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not afraid of anything.”
The tone of her voice had changed, but Sark wasn’t entirely sure whether she was lying or not. “You are,” he challenged her.
“I just…”
“What?” he pressed her.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“How to do what?”
“How to go back after everything that’s happened. How do I go back and not wonder if there’s not someone else out to get me. The Covenant wants me dead. Why? And if that’s the case why didn’t they kill me when they kidnapped me from New York? And, what’s to stop them from trying again? I…“
“Then don’t.”
“Don’t?”
“Don’t go back.” Sark released her hands and cupped her cheeks, drawing his thumbs over her cheekbones.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered trying not to let her uneasiness show.
“Don’t go back,” his voice was quiet now as well. “Stay with me.” Sark trailed his fingers through her hair slowly and tucked the locks behind her ears before returning to hold her face in his hands. “We can work together, you and I, like we were meant to.”
He kissed her. Even if her mind was strong enough to over power the sensations he created within her, she wasn’t sure she could force her body to obey.
Kissing Julian Sark was incredibly confusing and almost liberating; different from anything she’d experienced previously. The only true and wanted kiss she’d ever received had been Agent MacGregor in Spain, and while his had been gentle and sweet, Julian’s though not forceful were firm and demanding, but overpowering. Even without words, his kisses seemed to demand control and compliance.
The pressure and insistence of his lips against hers was overwhelming. One hand cupped her chin and the other pressed against her back pulling her as close to him as possible. He stood between her legs moulding her body to his and she relied completely on him for stability while sitting on the railing. Sark kissed her more than she participated and his lips left hers trailing down her neck to the base of her throat.
“Julian.” It came out more as a moan. She wanted to tell him to stop, but couldn’t, it was as if her mind wouldn’t allow her. She brought her hands up to his chest to push him away. He kissed her collarbone angling her head for better access and she looked up at the sky; it was dusk and the stars in the sky shone brightly in the countryside. They were so clear, not shrouded in the smog of the city as she was used to.
“No.” She finally managed to find words. Julian’s arm tightened around her waist as his lips came to hers again. She pushed him and he stepped back creating a minimal amount of distance between them. “Stop,” she said softly still trying to catch her breath. He kissed her again, more insistent than before. His lips slanted over hers and his hand moving to the back of her neck, drawing her head closer.
Kat pushed him again. Hard, two hands on his chest, using all her strength.
Surprised, he stumbled back releasing his hold on her; physical and emotional. Kat grabbed the railing quickly to avoid falling backwards from the force.
“Katia?” he reached for her, his voice tinged with anger.
She slapped him; hard, deliberate across the face. She gasped taking in a startled breath unable to believe she’d actually done it. “I said stop.” Kat slipped off the railing and tried to go past him, but he stepped in her path, grabbing her wrist.
“Why?”
“I’m not like you.”
“Excuse me?”
She spoke louder, though fully aware he’d heard her the first time. She attempted to pull her arm away. “I could never work with you. I’m not like you, I’m not an…“
She broke off mid sentence. His eyes narrowed… darkened. “You’re not like me? You’re not what?” She didn’t respond. They both knew what she was going to say, he was simply daring her to say it. “You’re not what Katia? Say it.”
“I’m not an assassin.”
She’d never feared him before and even now, she wasn’t sure. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t, but these were not normal circumstances; she could still taste him on her lips. Looking at him, she saw the mark she’d left on his cheek, and the anger held within his eyes. He wasn’t accustomed to being challenged.
“Is that what you believe me to be?”
“It’s what you are, isn’t it?” She jerked her arm and he let go. Her voice was low and husky as she spoke. “You kill people for money. You have no morals, no limits. It’s all about the pay off. It’s not human, Julian.”
Sark turned to go before either of them did something they might regret. He stopped and looked back at her, taking in her appearance. Her hair was dishevelled from the light wind that sent the hem of her dress fluttering against her knees. Her eyes were dark and watered, and her lips still plump and red from his kisses. “You’re a very presumptuous little girl.”
He was used to having the last line.
She wouldn’t allow it.
“Aren’t you rather old to be kissing little girls?”
here is a new chapter of Absolution. I'll reply to last chapter replies later.
So i didn't get in to teachers college... I'm sure chapter reviews will make me feel better!
However, I did just finish the very last essay of my university career :grad: at least until next year when i need to take mosre classes to boost my average.
Thanks to Bev for Betaing, she's awesome!
previously
“Please, just don’t touch me,” she said softly and got in the passenger side of the convertible.
Confused, Sark watched her get in the car before slipping on and buttoning his own shirt. He tossed Kat’s damaged clothing, his, and the towel into the trunk of the first car along with the Kevlar vest and the remnants of their existence. Once he was in the car and driving away he pressed a red button on a remote control and the car blew up.
Kat whipped her head around, watching the exploding car lift itself several feet off the ground. She turned back to Sark, “Julian, was that really necessary?”
Sark glanced at her quickly surprised that she was speaking to him again so soon. “Blood is hell to get out of the interior. How is your shoulder?”
“It’s fine. It really doesn’t hurt that much.”
Sark glanced at her again. “I apologize, he shot you sooner than I anticipated-“
“It wasn’t your fault Julian.” Kat interrupted and leaned her elbow on the car door, resting her head in her hands. “No one could have predicted that he would shoot that fast, besides he only hit my arm, it’s not like it was fatal or anything.”
“You’re angry.”
“Of course I’m angry Julian. I told him everything about me; things I could barely even admit to myself. I trusted him, with more than just that, with my safety and all the while he was selling my secrets to The Covenant. I thought I could trust him.”
“Katia, the first thing you learn in this life, the life we lead, is that you can’t trust anyone, not co-workers, friends, not even family. Everyone can be bought; every person has a price, monetary, moral or otherwise.”
“I suppose you’ve exercised that option on numerous occasion,” Kat murmured and wiped the tears from her eyes.
“What did you say?”
“I asked where we were going,” she lied.
“To my home in Marseilles,” Sark answered, knowing that that hadn’t been her original statement.
“I thought I was going home.”
“We will meet Katya at the airport tomorrow, and she will take you home.”
“Isn’t Marseilles, like three hours from here?”
“Three and a half,” he answered more precisely.
“Oh God,” she groaned.
“Why is that?”
“Three hours in a car with you,” Kat looked at him sceptically. “Julian, you drive like a maniac, we’ll be lucky if we make it there alive.”
Sark laughed and increased the gas, he had no doubt that getting to Marseilles as soon as possible would be best for both of them, Katia wasn’t herself.
Absolution
Chapter 8
Sark peered out the window searching the grounds for Katarina as he dialled Katya’s cell phone.
“How did it go?”
“Not exactly as planned, however it could have been worse,” Sark replied.
“What does that mean?”
Sark detected a tinge of annoyance in her voice. Katya was never pleased when things didn’t go exactly as planned.
“He shot Katarina earlier than we anticipated.”
“Is she injured?”
“Slightly, he fired two shots. One hit the Kevlar, and the other grazed her arm; it will mend quickly.”
“It could just as easily have been her head.”
“I am aware of that,” he said dryly. “Was Ilya able to get the documentation, I requested?”
“He did,” Katya confirmed. “Have you spoken with Irina?”
“Not as of yet,” Sark opened the window. “I called some time ago, but Yelena answered. Irina had gone to the hospital. I will try her cell soon.”
“She’s worse then?” Katya inquired.
Sark noted the concern in her voice. “I assume since Yelena flew to Switzerland to help.” Sark stuck his head out the open window and finally spotted Kat sitting on the balcony railing of the bedroom terrace. “I’ll call again; however I doubt Katarina will speak with her.”
“Tell my niece, it’s her father or sister,” Katya suggested amusement present in her voice. “She’ll talk to Irina then.”
“Perhaps.”
“The plane will be at the landing strip at four O’clock tomorrow,” Katya informed him.
“Have you made the call?”
“Tomorrow,” she answered and, with nothing more to say, promptly hung up without so much as a good bye.
Sark glanced out the window once more to ensure Kat was still there and then proceeded to dial Irina’s cell phone; she picked up on the fourth ring.
“How is Katarina?” Irina asked immediately. “Lena said she’d been hurt.”
Sark slowly made his way towards Katarina’s room. “She’s fine, a bullet graze, nothing serious.”
“Are you sure?”
“She’s…”
“Yes?”
“Betrayed,” he answered simply. “She’s taking it with difficultly; I’m surprised.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s not as if she’s experiencing it for the first time.”
“No,” Irina agreed. “But it is the first time for a friend,” she added. “I’d like to speak to her.”
“I’ll make an attempt,” he said. “However, I don’t offer any guarantees.” Sark entered the bedroom and crossed the room to the balcony. He held out the phone to Kat.
“Who is it?” she asked sceptically.
“Your sister,” he lied.
“Sydney?” Kat grabbed the phone putting it to her ear.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
Kat glared at Sark and promptly ended the call.
Katia,” Sark took the phone back from her and redialled Irina’s number. “You need to speak with her.”
“I don’t care if I never hear her voice again.”
“Enough,” Sark handed the phone back to her. “You are acting like a child. Speak to your mother.”
Taking offence to being called a child, Kat reluctantly took the phone. “Hello.”
“Hello Katy-Katarina,” Irina quickly corrected herself. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” she answered curtly.
“Are you certain, Sark said you’d been shot?”
“Yes, it was just a graze.” Kat kept her answers short, there was no point in giving Irina any emotional ammunition to use against her.
“Katarina, I’m sorry things turned out the way they did.”
“There’s nothing you could have done about it, he was the mole…“ Kat broke off as she heard something on the other end of the phone; a code blue page. “Are you in a hospital?”
“I am yes,” Irina confirmed making her way to the silence of an empty stairwell.
“Oh…are you sick?”
Irina wondered if she heard actual concern in her daughter’s voice. “No sweetheart, I’m just visiting someone.” Silence resided on the other end of the phone; momentarily.
“Yet you claim to care about me.”
“Katarina, this is complicated,” Irina sighed.
“Whatever, are we done?”
“Sweetheart…“
“Goodbye Irina.” Kat hung up the phone and handed it back to Sark.
“You could at least be civil towards her, Katia,” Sark reprimanded.
“Julian, I will not discuss Irina with you.”
“Regardless of your want or lack of it, she is your mother and she deserves your respect.”
“Irina Derevko, has no idea how to be a mother. If she did, then she would be here, and then, she might earn my respect.”
Kat spoke with such vengeance in her voice and it angered him. Kat moved to slide off the railing and push past him, but he wouldn’t allow her. He stood close to her, one arm on either side of her body, essentially pinning her to the railing.
“Let me go.”
He refused, “no.”
“Julian, let…“
“No,” he interrupted. “You are not the only person in Irina’s world Katia. There are others she must consider.”
“I will not discuss Irina with you,” Kat repeated, her voice cold and distant.
“You are angry, that is understandable. You were betrayed, but not by her and taking out your anger on Irina or myself is unacceptable.” Kat was seething, he could see the anger flashing in her dark eyes.
“Leave me alone.” Kat reached her hands up to push him away forcefully, but he caught her off guard and forced them to her sides. “Let me go, Julian,” she repeated for the third time.
“No.”
“What is it that you want?” She was struggling against him, trying to pull her arms free, but Sark kept them firmly at her sides.
“What are you afraid of?”
His question caught her off guard and she stared blankly for a moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not afraid of anything.”
The tone of her voice had changed, but Sark wasn’t entirely sure whether she was lying or not. “You are,” he challenged her.
“I just…”
“What?” he pressed her.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“How to do what?”
“How to go back after everything that’s happened. How do I go back and not wonder if there’s not someone else out to get me. The Covenant wants me dead. Why? And if that’s the case why didn’t they kill me when they kidnapped me from New York? And, what’s to stop them from trying again? I…“
“Then don’t.”
“Don’t?”
“Don’t go back.” Sark released her hands and cupped her cheeks, drawing his thumbs over her cheekbones.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered trying not to let her uneasiness show.
“Don’t go back,” his voice was quiet now as well. “Stay with me.” Sark trailed his fingers through her hair slowly and tucked the locks behind her ears before returning to hold her face in his hands. “We can work together, you and I, like we were meant to.”
He kissed her. Even if her mind was strong enough to over power the sensations he created within her, she wasn’t sure she could force her body to obey.
Kissing Julian Sark was incredibly confusing and almost liberating; different from anything she’d experienced previously. The only true and wanted kiss she’d ever received had been Agent MacGregor in Spain, and while his had been gentle and sweet, Julian’s though not forceful were firm and demanding, but overpowering. Even without words, his kisses seemed to demand control and compliance.
The pressure and insistence of his lips against hers was overwhelming. One hand cupped her chin and the other pressed against her back pulling her as close to him as possible. He stood between her legs moulding her body to his and she relied completely on him for stability while sitting on the railing. Sark kissed her more than she participated and his lips left hers trailing down her neck to the base of her throat.
“Julian.” It came out more as a moan. She wanted to tell him to stop, but couldn’t, it was as if her mind wouldn’t allow her. She brought her hands up to his chest to push him away. He kissed her collarbone angling her head for better access and she looked up at the sky; it was dusk and the stars in the sky shone brightly in the countryside. They were so clear, not shrouded in the smog of the city as she was used to.
“No.” She finally managed to find words. Julian’s arm tightened around her waist as his lips came to hers again. She pushed him and he stepped back creating a minimal amount of distance between them. “Stop,” she said softly still trying to catch her breath. He kissed her again, more insistent than before. His lips slanted over hers and his hand moving to the back of her neck, drawing her head closer.
Kat pushed him again. Hard, two hands on his chest, using all her strength.
Surprised, he stumbled back releasing his hold on her; physical and emotional. Kat grabbed the railing quickly to avoid falling backwards from the force.
“Katia?” he reached for her, his voice tinged with anger.
She slapped him; hard, deliberate across the face. She gasped taking in a startled breath unable to believe she’d actually done it. “I said stop.” Kat slipped off the railing and tried to go past him, but he stepped in her path, grabbing her wrist.
“Why?”
“I’m not like you.”
“Excuse me?”
She spoke louder, though fully aware he’d heard her the first time. She attempted to pull her arm away. “I could never work with you. I’m not like you, I’m not an…“
She broke off mid sentence. His eyes narrowed… darkened. “You’re not like me? You’re not what?” She didn’t respond. They both knew what she was going to say, he was simply daring her to say it. “You’re not what Katia? Say it.”
“I’m not an assassin.”
She’d never feared him before and even now, she wasn’t sure. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t, but these were not normal circumstances; she could still taste him on her lips. Looking at him, she saw the mark she’d left on his cheek, and the anger held within his eyes. He wasn’t accustomed to being challenged.
“Is that what you believe me to be?”
“It’s what you are, isn’t it?” She jerked her arm and he let go. Her voice was low and husky as she spoke. “You kill people for money. You have no morals, no limits. It’s all about the pay off. It’s not human, Julian.”
Sark turned to go before either of them did something they might regret. He stopped and looked back at her, taking in her appearance. Her hair was dishevelled from the light wind that sent the hem of her dress fluttering against her knees. Her eyes were dark and watered, and her lips still plump and red from his kisses. “You’re a very presumptuous little girl.”
He was used to having the last line.
She wouldn’t allow it.
“Aren’t you rather old to be kissing little girls?”
YoungStarsOwner
Cadet
SideNote: I see Robyn!!!!
the pm's haven't even gone out yet and she's stalking! lol
the pm's haven't even gone out yet and she's stalking! lol