Thank you all for the kind words :) They meant a lot *heart*
I'm trying to capture the strong love and connection between Luke and Rita in this chapter and part of the next background chapter to kind of show why their connection stayed strong for so many years after. I've been so lucky to have an amazing spouse, so I guess I just want people to know that this kind of love does exist, even if it seems unreal. And honestly, I am enjoying writing about good, nice things right now because there is just so much bad stuff in the world. I hope that makes sense.
The Devil's Army by Audiomachine
With You by Cujo Moon
It's in the Way You Love Me by Shania Twain
The Secrets that We Keep by Sara Evans
Body Heat by Selena Gomez
Breathe by Faith Hill
Weapon by Matthew Good
R&B by Siddhartha Khosla (or R&L as I'm renaming it haha)
Assassin by Brian Tyler
1999
London, U.K.
Rosie sauntered to her father, who was sitting in his chair and smiling at her. She knew he had no idea what was waiting on the other side of the door for him, and she didn't feel sorry for him at all.
"My condolences for Harry," Zeke said, and Rosie bristled inside. She knew it was his way of trying to get into her head. She pushed past it. "If you're here to get me to change my mind about Rita, it's futile." He smirked. She held his gaze, not giving him any emotion.
"Colter's dead," Rosie said flatly, and Zeke's smirk faded slowly. "So is his team. My daughter escaped. She's free. You lose." She'd found this out before leaving, and it had made her happy to know Rita was safe, that Luke was capable of protecting her.
"Well," he said. "Aren't you smug."
"Little bit, yea," she replied.
"I don't think you realize the army I have on my side," Zeke said, folding his fingers as he looked at her. "I will have your daughter soon enough."
"Funny thing about your army," Rosie said, beginning to pace a little. "I recently learned how you created it."
"What are you talking about?"
"The murders, Dad," she said, looking at him as she paused pacing. "Their family members they lost...that you took from them...it helped mold them into who they are. Right? You had people on standby in the foster system who got a hold of them and brought them to you. Others you approached yourself."
"I always knew you were smart," Zeke said with a chuckle.
"You killed Mum," Rosie went on calmly. "You did that because the three of us were wavering on whether or not we wanted to be killers. It made Colter go fully on board with Wes not far behind. You had me for a while, but then I wanted out. You couldn't have that, so you dragged me back with one of your ultimatums because you knew it would make me stay."
"Where are you going with this, Amelia?" Zeke asked. "All of it is ancient history. Yes, I did it...I killed people to recruit assassins. Who cares? That was in the past, and my work paid off. You don't get where I am without flexing that power muscle. Presently, I have an army at my bidding."
"Do you? Do you really?" Rosie challenged. For a second, Zeke showed some fear in his eyes, but it disappeared quickly.
"Yes, I do," he said evenly. She smiled then, leaning forward to tap her fingers on his desk.
"What if I told you that each and every one of them recently learned that it was you who killed their loved ones? What if I told you they just heard you confirm it right now?"
Zeke was sitting there very tense now, and she saw his hand twitching. She leaned both hands on his desk now, looking him right in the eye.
"Here's an ultimatum for you, Father," she said. "Either I can put a bullet in your head, or your army can come in here and rip you apart or do whatever the hell they want to you as payback for what you did. Your choice."
"You think you've won," Zeke said softly. "Let me tell you, Amelia, even if I die, this isn't over. Someone will take my place. You will never be free."
"Not on my watch," Rosie vowed. "It's over, Zeke. You're finished."
"Then put the bullet in me," he said, moving his head closer to her. "Now."
"That's your choice?"
"Yes."
"Hm," Rosie said, tapping a finger to her chin. "I'm sorry, but that's the wrong answer." She pushed herself up and walked to the door. Zeke got to his feet a moment later.
"Amelia!" he shouted, making her turn to look at him over her shoulder. "You are making the biggest mistake of your life."
"No," she replied, shaking her head. "I'm not." She held his gaze, feeling all of her rage towards him among other things. It was time. "And my name is Rosie." Then she walked out the door with him calling her wrong name after her. She gave a nod to Wes, who was standing there, and he gestured to everyone who was waiting.
"No," she heard Zeke saying from inside the room as she walked away and all of his previously loyal followers went into the room to deal with him and finish him off. "No! NOOOO!"
Rosie felt nothing as she exited the house and stepped out into the fresh air.
Montana, U.S.
Luke listened to Dennis's words, and he felt like what he was hearing was surreal. It also confused the hell out of him. How was it that people were after them and then suddenly not?
"So, we're free?" he asked.
"Yea," Dennis answered. "It's all been taken care of."
"But...I thought..."
"Luke, I promise you: It's over."
"I...okay," Luke said, not knowing how to word what he was thinking anyway.
"I'll be in touch with a job soon. Take some down time," Dennis encouraged. "Mourn Lance properly. He was a great man, and I will miss him a lot."
"I will."
They hung up, and Luke sat at the table staring at the wall. Rita was sleeping in the other room, and he didn't want to wake her. In the end, he decided to have a shower. When he was finished, he'd wake her and tell her they were free to do whatever it was they wished.
He had no idea what that even looked like, though.
London, U.K.
Wes tipped his beer, taking a long sip. Rosie cradled hers, her feet balancing her on the railing.
"Are you gonna go see her?" he asked. Rosie looked at him, knowing what he meant. She was free; she could. But how could she?
"You know what I fear?" she said to him now.
"What?"
"I fear she will hate me," Rosie replied. "I mean, what kind of mother leaves their child?"
"You did it to save her..."
"She won't see it that way," Rosie interrupted. "I always thought I could, but I think...I think she's safer without me."
"Rosie, don't say that," Wes said. "You're her mother. She deserves to know you."
"I can't, Wes," Rosie whispered. "It's been too long, and I can't stand the idea of her hating me."
"You don't know that she would..."
"I'm not changing my mind, Wes," she said firmly. "I have to let her go. She is in good hands. Luke will keep her safe; he loves her." Her brother looked like he was going to argue some more, but he just pressed his lips together and let it go.
"I really hope you change your mind one day," he said finally. "I think you deserve to have a relationship with her after everything you've endured."
Rosie didn't respond, just sipped her beer again. She felt she was right. She was a danger to be around, especially if Zeke's threat of someone replacing him and her never being free was true...maybe someone who'd want to kill her for revenge for doing Zeke in would take over and hunt for her, and why would she want to bring down her daughter with her if that did happen? Rita deserved so much better than that. She deserved to be happy...safe. Her heart held the usual ache it always did, but it was familiar now. She'd never admit it to Wes, but despite all her rationalizing, she held onto the thought that maybe one day she really would reveal herself to Rita.
Just maybe.
Montana, U.S.
Rita started to cry the moment Lucy opened her door and grabbed her into her arms. Rita felt Luke get pulled into the embrace against her back, and she could feel Lucy's cries shake against them both. Kenny appeared from the background, and he rested a hand on Lucy's back with a somber expression.
"Can we...can we stay here?" Rita asked once Lucy held her at arm's length to look her over.
"You never have to ask," Lucy answered. "You'll always have a home here, loves. Anytime."
Rita gave a very small smile, and Lucy pulled her inside. Luke and Kenny followed behind them, their voices low. Rita knew that Luke was eventually going to go back to work, but for now, she was grateful he was there.
They were going to rebuild. As painful as it was to do it without her father, Rita knew she eventually had to. She knew he wouldn't want her to sink because of this, and it was because of him that she vowed she wouldn't. She'd rebuild, one day at a time.
For him.
2000
New Orleans, U.S.
Luke opened the apartment door, his bag slung over his shoulder. He was returning from a job in Vancouver, and he was looking forward to seeing Rita again. He felt bad for being away so much, but he'd known to expect this.
"Love?" he called after setting his bag down and kicking the door shut. "Rita?"
"Down here," she replied, and he headed down to the bedroom where she had everything covered in plastic and was standing on a small stepladder in the corner, painting the corner of the wall with a brush slowly.
"Get bored?" he asked, amused.
"No. I got sick of the vomit green," she retorted. He chuckled and crossed his arms as he leaned on the door jam to watch her. She had a bit of paint on her left cheek and flecks of paint on her pants and shirt. Her hair was tucked under a bandana and pinned up. He couldn't help how his thoughts wandered, and he had to take some breaths and stay in this moment.
He walked over to her and hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her off the stepladder and making her yelp a bit in surprise. He let her slide down to the floor against him, and she kept her right hand out of the way to avoid getting paint on him from her brush, which was still in her hand.
"I was in the middle of-" she started, but he silenced her with a kiss. She let out a soft groan, and he pulled her into him tighter. When he came up for air, she looked at him with a slightly dazed expression.
"I've been away for a week," he answered. "Is the wall really more important than me?" He was teasing, and she knew it. She heaved a dramatic sigh.
"Well, my attention was on it first," she stated.
"I think it can wait," he murmured, taking the brush from her hand and resting it on the paint can lid. He picked her up and carried her to the couch in the living room that served as he bed when he was there, settling her onto his lap after he sat down. She accepted his kiss and pushed her hands up his chest under his shirt.
...
Rita was feeling a lot of strong feelings as Luke rested on top of her, his kiss growing urgent. She could feel his fingers edging closer to places she longed for him to touch, but he still respected her and didn't cross the line. She knew they weren't going to be able to hold off much longer, which was why she was planning their wedding as quickly as possible.
He stopped kissing her after a moment, breathing hard. She could feel herself trembling as his fingers traced his name on her skin. It was one of his favorite things to do. She liked it better when he kissed it.
"This is getting hard, Rita," he told her, looking at her. "I have to be honest."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," he said quickly, cupping her face with his hand. "I'm not trying to make you feel bad or anything. I'm just...expressing my desire." She nodded, understanding. It would be so easy to give in to it, and she wanted to, but she kept hearing her father's voice telling her to wait until marriage, and for whatever reason, she wanted to honor that request since she'd failed to honor his request to stay away from Luke in the first place. She wanted Luke to also know how much he meant to her by waiting to do this incredibly intimate thing that made her toes curl thinking about and also feel a bit nervous for. To her, their relationship was so much more than just being physical with each other, and she wanted him to know how much she treasured everything else.
She moved to sit up, causing Luke to shift and sit cross legged next to her.
"I love you," he said, and she smiled softly.
"I love you," she replied, reaching to take his hand. He squeezed it and then pressed his lips into the back of it lightly.
"What do you want to eat?" she asked, changing the subject. He exhaled slowly, thinking.
"Food," he answered after a moment, and she rolled her eyes.
"Okay, crackers and cheese it is," she said, sliding off the couch. She shrieked when he chased her, catching her from behind and trying to throw her over his shoulder. She wrestled him off, laughing as he fell to the floor with her.
These were the moments with him that she never wanted to forget. She loved him so much it hurt, and she couldn't wait to marry him. She felt warm inside knowing that it was going to be soon and he had no idea. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he found out, which wouldn't be until he was standing in front of her if she could pull it off.
The only thing missing was her family, but she knew they were there in spirit, and that would have to be enough.
...
Rosie looked up when Wes came into the apartment. She sighed and dropped the paper she'd been reading.
"What?" Wes asked.
"I'm bored," she complained.
"Seriously? I thought you were out wrangling people to join our new cause?" Wes put his jacket on the hook and went to wash his hands. Rosie rested her hand on her chin.
"I am, but it's been hard."
"I can't believe more people are interested in killing people than rescuing people," Wes said, opening the fridge now and pulling out a beer for himself. He popped it open and took a swig.
"I've been clear it is strictly extraction jobs with minimal kills as possible," Rosie said. "And I have a few ideal candidates who are interested."
"Are you going to solicit Luke?"
"No. Dennis has got him doing a good mix of both jobs," Rosie said. "Dennis also doesn't target innocent people." Rosie could do that too, but honestly, she was tired of just taking out bad people. She wanted to do something different.
"You don't want to get revealed to Rita," Wes noted.
"That too."
"I really think you should tell her you're alive. I mean, what if she finds out years from now? She's gonna be really hurt and pissed at you," he pointed out.
"I know, but I just keep thinking it's better that she's away from me, you know? I'm bad luck."
"Pfft," Wes scoffed, chugging his beer again quickly. He went to sit across from her now, setting his bottle on the table and then quickly on the coaster after she glared at him. "You are being too hard on yourself."
"It's okay, Wes," she said to him. "It really is for the best."
"It was a scare tactic," Wes said. "You are free, Rosie. No one is coming after you."
Rosie just stared at him, so he didn't say anything else, and then she gave him her most convincing smile. Maybe it was a scare tactic, but she couldn't risk it. She'd done a check in recently and overheard Rita talking to Rachel about wedding plans on their walk the other day. Rosie knew it was risky to be so close to her daughter, but she wanted to know what was going on in her life. She smiled as she thought about how happy Luke was going to be when he found out. She approved of the two of them, even though Luke was an assassin. She knew that boy would rather die than have anything happen to Rita, and that's what she wanted in a man for her daughter.
Plus, Lance had given his blessing, so that said a lot as well.
Her heart ached from missing Lance. She felt so much guilt for not knowing that Colter had left sooner than she realized. She wished she could go back in time and change everything, but she couldn't. She held on to her last memories of him, which sometimes left her feeling happy and other times very sad.
"Care if I order in?" Wes asked, breaking into her thoughts.
"Go ahead." Rosie put her attention back onto her daughter. She was happy for her, and she hoped that her secret wedding planning would work out the way she wanted.
2000—December
Luke woke up the morning after their wedding day and felt slightly confused at first until he remembered everything. He turned his head to see Rita sleeping on her left side facing him. She looked peaceful finally, and he smiled. It had been such a rough past while; he was happy to see her feel happy again.
His mind wandered, thinking about last night and how their relationship had officially changed into something deeper and more intimate. He no longer had to wonder about it or worry about a negative outcome. He'd never felt so close to anyone as he did her, and he didn't think he'd ever be able to replicate the feeling with anyone else. He never wanted to. He felt bad for making the whole experience shorter for her, but he was fully planning on fixing that today.
He moved to kiss her forehead softly, and she made a noise in her throat. He pulled back to see her open her eyes and look at him.
"Hey," he said quietly. He noticed the same confusion he'd had in her eyes until she smiled, remembering.
"Hi," she said back. "That was nice. Are you gonna wake me up like that every day?"
"I can try."
She smiled wider and burrowed her head further into her pillow to hide it. He cupped her hip with his hand and kissed her neck lightly before moving to get up.
"Coffee?" he asked.
"Do you have to ask?" she retorted.
"Right. What was I thinking?" he said, chuckling. He went and got it going and then stood in the living room to look out the window as it brewed. He heard Rita pad to the washroom before going back to their bedroom a few minutes later. He went to see her climbing back under the covers.
"You can't still be tired," he teased. "It's almost nine."
"I'm an old married woman now," she replied, and he scoffed before going to jump onto the mattress next to her, making her burst out laughing as he began to pinch and tickle her.
"Okay, okay, truce!" she cried, fending him off as best as she could. He smirked as he let her roll him onto his back and settle on top of him.
"I don't buy that your breath smells like mint in the morning," he commented, making her blush.
"Sure it does," she argued. "I'm a naturally minty person."
"Rita," he said. "You know I love you, right? Morning breath is not gonna change that."
"I'm not willing to risk it," she replied.
"I also happen to know your hair does not naturally look brushed after sleeping on it all night," he pointed out. "I did see you before you brushed it, and it had a more wind tunnel-like appearance to it."
"It was all in your imagination," she insisted.
"I've lived with you long enough to know what you look like in the morning," he said, laughing. "You don't have to pretend with me, okay? Just be you."
"Fine," she sighed, and he pulled her down so he could kiss her. Then things became intense, and Luke did better this time, keeping his focus intact long enough to make sure she got as much out of it as possible. He still felt like he'd let her down, though, but she'd insisted he hadn't.
"I get why people talk about this now," she said afterwards, lying half on him in his arms. His eyes were closed.
"Why's that?"
"I dunno. It's just so raw and intense. It's an experience like none other. Why wouldn't people talk about it?"
"Because it's personal," he said.
"I guess," she agreed. "Not for some, though."
"No, definitely not."
"Am I annoying you?" she asked. He opened his eyes then, seeing her worried expression.
"No," he answered. "What makes you think that?"
"I just feel like I talk too much about stupid things," she replied. He reached to touch her cheek with the back of his fingers.
"I don't think that. I never have, and I never will."
"You're just saying that," she said.
"Don't make this an unwinnable argument," he retorted. She sucked her teeth and made a face, which prompted him to catch her jaw and pull her in for a kiss.
"Fine," she conceded after. Then she pushed herself up and slid out of bed.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To get the damn coffee you promised earlier," she answered, giving him a look over her shoulder that showed she was being playful.
"My bad," he said after her. When she didn't bring him a mug, he stole hers and drank some of it anyway even though it wasn't how he drank it. After swatting him and telling him off fondly, she nestled into his arms, and he held her close.
This was what he'd wanted for so long, and now that he had it, he never wanted to lose it.
A Few Days Later
Rita loved being married. It felt so strange and neat to say she had a husband, that she was a wife. She hated that he'd left for a job already, but he'd promised it was only a couple of days and he'd be back for a while before leaving again. She understood that she'd sprung a secret wedding on him so he couldn't have planned to take time off for it.
"There's the missus!" Rachel exclaimed when Rita came into work. Rita held up her hand with her wedding band and engagement ring and waggled her fingers, grinning widely. Rachel squealed and went to hug her tightly, which Rita accepted and returned with full gusto. She loved Rachel. She was a lot better friend than Bridget had been.
"Tell me everything," Rachel said as they walked to the staff room. Rita hung up her coat and bag and pinned her nametag on carefully.
"What do you mean by that?" Rita asked, her cheeks growing a bit hot.
"Was he everything you'd hoped?"
"I guess so."
"You guess so? What the hell, Rita," Rachel said with a laugh as they walked out onto the floor. Rita cut open a box and started pulling out the books to be sorted.
"I'm not talking about that stuff with you," Rita insisted.
"At least tell me you enjoyed it."
Rita gave a slight pause, meeting her friend's gaze. She felt embarrassed to say that felt like she was missing something throughout the entire experience.
"Oh, Rita," Rachel said. "It gets better, I promise."
"I think I'm doing something wrong," Rita confessed, setting the books down.
"I doubt it. You're new at it, right?"
"Yea..."
"Then it takes a bit to get your groove. Just make sure you talk to him. He doesn't strike me as a pig. I can tell he genuinely loves you, so he'll work at it with you."
"I know. I just feel silly telling him about it," Rita sighed. She picked up the books again, carrying them to the section they belonged. Rachel followed, pulling the dolly of boxes behind her.
"Don't. The worst thing you can do is plow through it time and time again only to be left unsatisfied and eventually resenting him for it."
"Fair point."
"Here," Rachel said, scanning the shelf and pulling out a book and handing it to her. "Try this. It might help."
"Rachel!" Rita dropped it as if burned. She felt her face become a million degrees.
"What? Sex is a part of life. Don't be weird about it," Rachel said, laughing. Rita scooted the book out of sight with her foot lightly. She felt so embarrassed.
"Can we talk about something else? Please?" she asked.
"Fine," Rachel sighed. "So, my mother wants me to go shopping with her this weekend, and I really don't want to go..."
Rita listened to her talk as they both worked. She was glad the heat was off of her for now. At the end of her shift, though, she went back for the book, paid for it quickly while no one was watching, and stuffed it into her bag to take home.
Because she really did want to get this right after all.
Three Days Later
Luke came home to find Rita cooking supper in her bare feet with her favorite yellow sundress on (it was probably more his favorite than hers if he was honest). He smiled at the sight of her, dropping his bag on the floor by the door and making her look to see him. Her face brightened instantly, and she met him halfway as he walked towards her. The feel of her in his arms just made everything in the world okay again.
"I missed you so much," she said, her face pressed against his neck.
"Not as much as I missed you," he replied, holding her close. He moved to kiss her a moment later, and her lips were so soft and warm against his. She tasted like the spices she was using on dinner.
He loved that he was free to do what he wanted now, and her fingers were soon digging into his arms tightly in response.
"Luke," she said, her voice impacted. "I...I want to, but..." She turned her head towards the stove, and he understood.
"Alright," he said, resting his hands on her arms. "But after that, you're mine." She nodded, and he felt her skin create goose bumps from a shiver.
"You should take a shower," she suggested.
"Yea, I will." He was covered in days old sweat and God knew what else. It was a fair request. He returned a bit later clean and changed, sitting down as she set his plate down on the table.
"Smells amazing, love," he said.
"Dad's recipe," she answered, and he smiled a little as he recognized it. He reached to squeeze her hand, knowing that thinking about Lance made her sad. She smiled back and joined him, resting her foot against his leg and talking about what new books she'd sorted lately. Luke enjoyed this kind of conversation. It was just so normal...much better than plotting someone's death and working all the angles to get it done.
He didn't want to appear like he was focused on one thing only, so he helped clean up and do the dishes. He'd teased her and earned getting sprayed in return. He could feel her anticipation and nervousness, and he felt a bit worried that she was afraid of getting hurt.
"You okay?" he asked when she turned the kitchen light off and joined him in the living room on the couch.
"Yea," she answered.
"We don't have to," he told her. "I was just being goofy earlier. I know I don't own you."
"I want to," she insisted. "I'm just still feeling a bit weird talking about it."
"I get it." He had a thought of how to make it a bit more natural, and he reached to pull her to her feet. "Come on. Let's just talk for a bit, and we'll go from there. Okay?"
"Okay."
They went into the bedroom, and he pulled her into him for a cuddle on the bed, and she tucked right into him, slipping her fingers through his and resting their hands on her stomach. He kissed the back of her neck softly and then pressed his face against the back of her head. She asked him some questions about his trip that he answered without getting graphic. She talked about Rachel's weekend with her mother that she was dreading. They shared some laughs about Copper memories. Eventually, she turned in his arms to kiss him, and the rest went from there.
Luke felt like something wasn't quite right as he held her afterwards, but she promised she was okay. He didn't know how to ask her, so he left it alone for now. He just hoped that eventually, they could talk about it. He wanted her to enjoy physical intimacy. He wanted her to get the most of it.
"I love you," he murmured into her ear.
"Love you too," she whispered back.
Falling asleep that night was easier than the last few days, and he was grateful for that.
Three Weeks Later
Rita was immersed in reading and hadn't heard Luke come home from his two day trip. It was only when he was standing in front of her that she noticed him and yelped in response.
"I wasn't even trying to be quiet," he said, laughing as she clutched the book against her chest and tried to get her breath back.
"You were still too quiet," she insisted. Then she realized that he'd caught her reading a book she hadn't wanted him to know she was reading, the same damn book she got so hot in the face at by just looking at the cover.
"What's this?" he asked, tapping it with his finger and lifting a brow.
"Nothing," she answered, trying to tuck it away out of sight. He wrestled her for it, and in the end, he won. He pried it from her fingers as he sat on her stomach. She still tried to grab his arms to prevent him from seeing it fully, though, and failed.
"Is this your way of saying you want to try something new already?" he asked, examining it.
"No," she answered, blushing hard. He gave her a skeptical look over the top of the book.
"Really," he said. "So you're just reading a book about hot sex for no reason?"
"It's not about that!"
"It's on the title," he pointed out, laughing again.
"It's for Rachel," she tried.
"You're reading a sex book for Rachel," he clarified. "Is there something you wanna tell me?"
"No!" She pulled a pillow over her face, feeling incredibly embarrassed now. All she had hoped to gain from that stupid book was some answers for some things. That was all. She let out an aggravated growl.
"Hey," Luke said, tugging the pillow away to show her face again. He'd set the book out of her line of sight. "You know you can talk to me, right?"
"I know," she said.
"So talk to me," he advised, moving to let her sit up and sit beside him. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to figure out how to say it.
"I want you to know that I love being intimate with you," she started.
"But?" he prompted when she paused.
"I don't know how to say it," she said, feeling bad. "I don't want you to get upset."
"Rita," he said, taking her hand in his and pulling her onto his lap to hold her close. "It won't upset me. It will upset me if you don't tell me and then just pretend everything's fine. As it stands, I've noticed something isn't quite right lately, so just tell me."
She exhaled as he brushed her cheek with his fingers and looked at her intently.
"Okay," she said finally. "I...I'm not sure I'm feeling it."
"I'm following," he said.
"I don't know what it is supposed to feel like," she went on. "But I don't think I've had that...that moment they're talking about." She felt stupid.
"I wondered," he commented, taking her by surprise.
"You could tell?" she asked.
"I think so. I didn't know how to ask because you seemed like you might have, but I wasn't entirely sure either."
"I really like doing it," she said quickly, afraid he'd think she didn't.
"Oh, I know," he replied, giving her a small smirk and pinching her side lightly. "We just gotta make it better."
"How?" she asked. They both looked at the book on the coffee table and then back at each other.
"Come on, Bookworm," he said, standing and sliding her off his lap and tugging her behind him to the bedroom.
"Is it weird that I like that nickname?" she asked, feeling high anticipation suddenly as she walked behind him.
"It would be weird if you didn't," he commented. Once they were in the bedroom, he turned and picked her up into his arms, grasping the back of her neck with one hand while his other arm wrapped around her back. She accepted his kiss easily, eager to move things along. He didn't need to improve on anything leading up to it; it was just during that she was looking for what she was missing.
And even if she never found it, she still loved him and wanted to be with him.
...
Luke didn't want to admit that he was feeling like a bit of a failure in this department. He wasn't sure what he was doing wrong, and while Rita kept telling him it was fine, he felt it wasn't. He wanted her to experience what she should be experiencing.
It was almost one in the morning when she put a hand on his face and told him it was okay to stop.
"Maybe I'm just broken," she said, her fingers running along his chest and stomach absently.
"I don't think so," he argued.
"Well, you're doing everything right, so it has to be me," she insisted. She tucked her head into his neck and circled her arm across his chest snugly. He rested his left hand on that arm and ran the fingers of his right hand along her left side, that arm being underneath her. He was thinking. He felt her fall asleep, and he switched the lamp off. It took him a while to fall asleep as well, but he eventually got there.
He was determined to figure this out for her.
...
Rita slid back under the covers before Luke woke up the next morning, and she curled back up against him. She felt a little bad for bringing up her problem because she could tell it was really bothering him, and she didn't like seeing him feel this bad about it.
"Good morning," she said when he stirred and opened an eye to see her there.
"Morning," he replied in that sleepy voice she loved.
"I've been thinking," she said.
"Mmph," he replied, his eye having already closed again. His face had that half asleep look she also loved.
"I think we should just forget it," she went on. Both his eyes opened at this, and he turned his head to fully look at her.
"What?" he asked.
"We've put too much pressure on it now," she reasoned. "It's definitely not going to happen because we're trying and focusing on it. I say we forget about it and just...carry on like usual."
"Okay..."
"It's still really good," she insisted, seeing his skeptical face. "I promise." He moved his head to look at the ceiling for a moment. Then he pressed his fingers into his eyes and rubbed them briefly before lowering his hand and looking at her again.
"No pressure," he repeated.
"No pressure," she confirmed.
"Alright," he said, rolling on top of her quickly and making her exclaim in surprise. She didn't get a chance to ask what he was doing when he started to kiss her softly. She just went with it because she was honest in saying that she did enjoy it. She loved being so close to him. So what if she didn't get the full hoopla? She wasn't going to make herself feel bad for not figuring it out. She certainly wasn't going to make him feel bad either. It was what it was.
"Do you trust me?" he said into her ear, pressing his lips against her jaw just under it.
"Why are you asking me that?" She turned her face to look at him.
"Yes or no?" he countered. She held his gaze, knowing in her heart that she'd never trust anyone the way she trusted him.
"Yes," she answered.
"Good." He kissed her mouth, his fingers tugging at her hair to tilt her head back. He was just so good at kissing; she forgot where she even was. Their pattern was like a well read map, so when he did something different, she'd been skeptical at first but...
Holy mackerel.
Heart pounding, she lay there next to him and tried to comprehend what just happened. It had all been so fast. Had she really lost control of...of everything just like that?
"Yea?" he said, out of breath.
"Oh, yea," she replied.
"See?" he said, running the back of his hand up and down her arm. "Not broken."
"Holy shit."
"I agree."
"How did you know it would work?"
"I didn't. It was literally just a guess."
"You don't have to look so smug about it," she commented, and his smirk grew wider.
"Oh, yes, I do," he insisted, which made her laugh and him follow suit seconds later. She moved to curl against him, and he put his arm across her middle and tucked her in close. She smiled as his fingers shifted her damp hair, his mouth touching the back of her neck softly. Then he nipped at the space between her neck and shoulder with his lips, and she liked it. She couldn't explain why, but she did.
"What?" he asked when she looked at him over her shoulder.
"That was sweet," she commented.
"What was?"
"What you just did."
"What, this?" He repeated it, and she nodded.
"Yea."
"Alright," he said, nuzzling her neck now. "I'll remember that." She smiled without saying anything else. These were the moments she never wanted to end. He fell asleep again, and she lay awake thinking about what just happened. After a while, his phone rang. She felt him lurch awake and reach for it, nearly knocking everything off the nightstand before grabbing it finally.
"Hullo?" he said groggily. She felt cold with his upper torso twisted away from her. She burrowed further under the covers as Luke stayed quiet, listening to the person speaking on the other end of the phone.
"Right. Thanks."
"Please don't say it," she said when he hung up and moved back to hold her again.
"I'm sorry."
She rolled over so that she was facing him now. He looked genuinely sorry.
"I don't want you to feel bad, but I just...I miss you when you're gone."
"I know," he said softly, interlocking their fingers on both hands and holding them against his chest. "I miss you too."
"I guess I should have realized when I signed up for this that you'd be gone a lot," she sighed.
"I could have said no."
"No, it's okay," she said. "You wouldn't stop me from doing my job."
"I don't have to leave until tonight," he told her.
"Well then," she said, giving him a coy smile. "You've got lots of time to repeat what just happened here before you go."
"Have I mentioned how much I love the way you think?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered, pressing against him to kiss him. She felt ignited all over again when his lips met hers. She knew that it wouldn't be perfect every time, and that was okay.
It didn't stop her from loving him.
A Month Later
Dominican Republic
Luke wasn't entirely sure how this had happened. He was in the Dominican for a job, and Rita was standing in the window of their hotel room. She'd sweet talked him into letting her go with him. She'd even pulled out her fake I.D. of Rose Woods to use.
And he'd stupidly said yes.
They were flown down on one of Dennis's jets. Rita was both apprehensive about the fact he was there to kill someone and delighted that she was getting to see part of the world, albeit for a short amount of time.
"When?" she asked him now as he walked up behind her and put his arms around her.
"Tomorrow morning," he answered.
"So we can do whatever we want tonight?" she asked. He saw her looking at the ocean, and he got an idea.
"Yea," he answered. "Come on."
She let him take her by the hand and lead her down to the beach below. It was dark, and no one else was around.
"What are we doing?" she asked, sounding nervous.
"You trust me?" he countered, taking her other hand now as he backed into the water to his ankles. She tensed a little as her feet were hit by small waves.
"You know I do."
"Then just go with it," he said, pulling off his shirt now and tossing it onto the sand. She slid out of her sundress, revealing the fact she'd planned on seducing him later. He smiled and took her hand again, taking them out a bit farther. The water was bogging down his shorts quickly.
"Luke," Rita said at chest level.
"I'm right here," he promised, pulling her close to him. He kissed her gently, sliding a hand down her back. A wave jostled them, and he felt her cling to him tighter to avoid falling. He could see the fear on her face in the moonlight.
"How are you so calm?" she asked.
"Practice," he answered.
"What is the point of this?"
"I'm hoping that by making out with you, you'll relate water to something pleasant instead of scary," he advised.
"It's not quite working," she replied. He lifted her into his arms then, making her gasp from being startled. He pulled her against him, burying his face against her neck.
"Luke," she said. "We're in public..."
He lowered them both under the water more, and she inhaled sharply from fear.
"This is as deep as I'm going," he promised. He was crouched with her straddling him now, the water to their chins. He could tell she was afraid to let go of him.
"You really want me to get past this fear, don't you?" she asked.
"I do. I don't want you to be limited because of it."
"I will never fully love it," she admitted.
"I just want you to tolerate it," he stated.
"I can try."
"Good," he said. His lips found hers again, and he did his best to keep her focus on it.
...
Rita worked hard to let go of the anxiety of being in the water. Luke had a secure hold of her, and she could stand up if she had to and would be okay. All she had to do was focus on him.
Which wasn't hard after what he just did to her.
"Luke!" Her voice was a bit strangled, and he smiled against her cheek. She gripped him tighter as a wave jostled them both.
"I bet I know what you're thinking about right now," he commented, his breath hot against her ear.
"Not here," she insisted.
"I'm a gentleman," he replied.
"Not right now you're not," she said.
"Sure I am." He held her firm, kissing her again slowly.
"Let's go," she said, burning with desire for him now. The water was becoming something in the back of her mind now. Like hell was she about to admit that to him, though. To admit his idea kind of worked meant he'd do it again, and she didn't want to.
"Alright," he agreed, standing up and setting her on the ground. She grasped his hand tightly, walking beside him towards the beach. She bent to scoop up her dress on the way by, tugging it on while Luke grabbed his shirt, and they made their way back to their hotel room, making out in the elevator on the way as well as the hallway and outside their hotel room door and inside the room. Rita felt like there was nothing else in the world but the two of them in that moment. She felt him grow urgent, and she caught his hands with hers, holding them up between them and pulling back from his kiss. She could see he looked concerned as she rested her head against the wall. She knew her words would put him at ease that he wasn't hurting her.
"Slow," she said to him. "Please?" His fingers intertwined with hers, and he moved in to rest his cheek against hers before pressing his lips lightly against her jaw.
"Anything for you," he replied, looking into her eyes with his mouth centimeters from hers. She closed her eyes as he kissed her again and let go of her hands to pull her into his arms gently.
Rita loved when they moved slowly. There was a tenderness to it that made her heart feel so full. She enjoyed when things were fast and almost primal too, but this was her favorite. It made her feel so much closer to him.
"My love," he said moments later. "You are everything to me." His eyes found hers, and she knew he meant it.
"I love you," she said as he pressed his face into her collarbone. He kissed her neck slowly, taking her hand in his and pressing it against his chest over his heart to nonverbally respond. She could feel it beating fast under her fingers, making her feel almost a touch of fear that one day it would stop beating. He moved her hand up to his lips next, pressing a soft kiss into her palm as he closed his eyes. Rita felt the warmth of his breath against her hand as he held it against his parted lips after. She moved to run her fingertips over his cheek as his hand slid to hold her wrist, watching his face exhibit his feelings as she did so. She held his jaw, seeing his eyes find hers when he finally opened them again. She pulled herself up to kiss the corner of his mouth gently, leaving her lips brushed against his as she waited for him to kiss her back.
Luke said her name in that way she loved so much before claiming her mouth with his and sinking back down with her, and she came alive and undone by his kiss and touch, craving more and more.
"Don't stop," she whispered. "Please don't stop."
"I won't," he promised. "I won't."
...
Luke stood and watched Rita sleep the next morning. He had to go to work, and he hoped no one would find her here while he was gone. He smiled to himself as he replayed the night before. Cherishing her was something he'd vowed to always do. He knew her favorite way of being together was slow and sensual (his too, really), which was why he tried to do it that way more often than not. He appreciated the times when she would also indulge in it like an almost desperate person. Either way, he always treasured her.
He had to go, so he tore himself away, picked up his case with his rifle in it, and walked out. To anyone watching, he was just someone heading off to play guitar somewhere. He strolled through the crowds, pulling his ball cap low as he went. It was a bit of a hike to where he was going, but it was a nice day for it. He smiled at the sight of children playing and laughing. It made his heart hurt a little since it made him think of Keira, but he always enjoyed the innocence of children. He hated that it disappeared so fast.
Someone called out, and he saw the soccer ball coming at him. He moved to catch it, kicking it back towards the group of children playing. They cheered and waved at him, and he smiled and waved back, continuing on his way.
He found his perch a bit later on a roof and got settled after a quick check of the area. As he set up his rifle, he thought about how strange it was that one minute he was making love to his wife and the next he was killing someone. He rested on his stomach, pressing his eye into the scope and scanning the area.
It was people like this that shattered the normal lives of others. Luke knew he couldn't rest if one slipped through the cracks and caused devastation. He viewed himself as being the one to help ensure that people had a normal, trauma free life.
"There you are," he murmured to himself, finding the man in his sights. He was talking to a woman in a bikini, reaching to slap her rear when she turned to walk away. The woman hurried quicker, and Luke felt like this man thought he was very entitled.
He turned his head to look at the photograph from his file to make very sure he had the right target. When he confirmed it, he took aim, held his breath, and pulled the trigger. He watched his target fall dead and saw people running and screaming. Luke moved to get up, disassembling his rifle quickly. He heard a noise, and he spun to see a teenage boy standing there with a cigarette dangling from his lips as he stared at Luke in shock. Luke froze, feeling very panicked suddenly. Where the hell had he come from?! His eyes flicked to a spot behind some ductwork, seeing someone could hide in the shadows there. He was never supposed to leave witnesses, but Luke knew he couldn't kill someone so young. They held each other's gaze for a moment until the teen came closer, spying the photograph. It appeared he recognized the man as his face grew dark, and he chucked his cigarette and spat off to the side onto the roof.
"Bad," the teen said in Spanish. "Very bad man. You get rid of him?"
Luke sat there, waiting. He didn't know what to say in response. The teen gave a light scoff and shook his head.
"More people will be relieved than sad he's gone," the teen said next. "He killed my sister and got away with it. So, thank you for your service. I won't say anything."
Luke watched the teen give him a little salute before turning to leave. His heart was pounding as he realized the gravity of what just happened. He could have been caught. This could have gone so wrong. That kid could identify him, but apparently he was happy the target was dead and rightly so in Luke's mind. Luke couldn't understand how he'd missed the teen on the roof, but it was too late to go back and fix it now.
He hurried away, disappearing into the crowd.
...
Rita was lounging in bed with the sheets half on her. She was feeling properly spent and happy. The only thing missing was Luke, but she knew he'd be back soon. When he did return, she looked towards him in the entrance and saw he looked stressed.
"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting up.
"Someone saw me," he answered. His grip on the guitar case was tight, and she felt her chest flutter in fear.
"What? Who?"
"Some kid," he answered. "I missed him on the roof, and he knows I did this."
"Is he going to tell?" Rita was feeling terrified now. Would they even be able to get out of there?
"No," Luke answered. "Apparently this guy killed his sister and got away with it."
Rita processed the words for a moment and then felt herself start to relax. It was okay. The kid was glad the target was gone. Why would he say anything?
She slid out of bed and padded over to him, reaching to pull up the strap of her nightgown that slipped down her shoulder. He set down the case, and she hugged him tightly. He breathed into her neck, shuddering slightly. She knew his mind was going a hundred miles an hour with calculating how everything could have gone so wrong.
"It's okay," she told him. "We're okay."
"I just..." he started. "If he'd snitched on me...if I'd gotten caught...I...I would have lost you." He moved to look at her, and she pressed a hand to his cheek.
"Don't waste time thinking about what didn't happen," she advised. "It won't help you any."
"Yea," he said with a nod, running his hands up and down her arms absently as he looked towards the window. "You're right."
"Even if you lost me, Luke," Rita said softly, making him look at her again, "I'd find my way back to you again. I always will."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
He nodded again, and she pressed her lips against his softly, briefly. Without a word, he picked her up and carried her to the shower. She let him be desperate this time, knowing he'd had a scare and needed her badly.
Sometimes, she worried about what would happen when their honeymoon phase was over. She hoped they wouldn't stop being crazy about each other. She didn't like to indulge that thought much, but it was there.
Under the stream of water, she let him take her out of her thoughts and into the present, which was exactly where she wanted to stay.
Two Weeks Later
"You're going to Italy?" Rita asked, sounding a little in despair. "I've always wanted to go there..." Luke turned his head to see her pouting at him, and he knew what was coming next.
He wasn't disappointed.
"Can I come? Pleeeaase?"
"Rita, I don't know..."
"I'll be good. I promise," she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet now. "You won't even know I'm there."
"You can't use Rose Woods again," he warned.
"I won't! You can get me something better...more fun this time," she said, eyes twinkling. He pursed his lips, moving them around as he contemplated. It wouldn't actually be a bad cover for him if she was there.
"Fine," he caved. "If you can get the time off work."
"Easy peasy," she said, going for the phone to call Rachel to cover for her. Luke chuckled as she told her friend she was going on a last minute trip. At least she didn't tell Rachel where she was going, thankfully. Luke went to finish packing up, reaching out to his contact for a fake I.D. for her and sending Rita's photo. He was told he could have one later that day, which was a relief. He had to leave in the morning. Dennis always had a jet for him to go on, which was nice.
"I can't believe I'm going to Italy," Rita said, grabbing her suitcase to start packing. Luke smiled as she chattered on about it. He hated to remind her that they couldn't be gone for long, but he made a mental promise to indulge in whatever sights she wanted to see before and after the job was done.
Two Days Later
"Kiki Spencer," Rita said, looking at her I.D. and snickering. "Do I really look like a Kiki?" She watched as Luke turned his head to look at her as he drove, and she could almost read his mind. It gave her pleasant shivers.
"Maybe," he answered, his thumb running over her knuckles gently.
"When I think Kiki, I think lady of the night," she stated, making him laugh.
"Then I'm lucky you're in my car," he commented, and she smacked him playfully out of mock outrage while he smirked at her. They arrived at their destination, and Rita couldn't help but marvel over the rustic building they were staying in. She wanted to go everywhere all at once, but she knew she couldn't. They only had three days here after all.
She stood on the balcony and looked out at the water and at all the buildings. She loved the environment here.
"Alright," Luke said, coming up behind her and putting his arms around her. She leaned against his chest, folding her arms over his across her stomach. "What are we doing first?"
"Book shop," she said instantly, and he laughed.
"How did I know?" he teased.
"To get a map, genius," she said. "Then we're going to the Sistine Chapel."
"Well alright. But we could get a map anywhere."
"Do you really have to question why I want to be in a bookstore?" she asked, pulling out of his grip and going to put on her shoes.
"You're right. My bad." He followed, resting his hand on her lower back as they walked out together. "Come on then, Kiki."
"I'll kiki you if you say my name in that tone again," she warned, and he laughed while pressing for the elevator. She put her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder after they were in and going to the ground floor.
It was moments like these that made Rita want time to stand still. They slipped away far too fast, and she had no idea how to slow it down.
...
Luke really hadn't wanted to go to a club, but Rita had wheedled and pleaded, so he caved. It was exactly what he'd dreaded: noisy, crowded, and full of intoxicated people grinding on each other.
He tugged her out of the way of a man who was giving her an appreciative look, but Rita didn't even notice.
"Rachel would be so jealous!" she said loudly. "I'm in a dance club in freaking Italy! Too bad I can't tell her!"
He just shook his head with a small smile on his lips. He liked her being happy, but something had him on edge here. He scanned the area, not really sure what he was looking for but doing it all the same.
Then he froze.
Dancing in the back corner was the target he was supposed to take out the next day. He felt a cold sweat start. Was this a coincidence? Or a freak accident?
"Come on! I know you can dance!" Rita said now, making him look at her again. His brain was spinning. What were the odds he could pull this off here rather than tomorrow? Which was the better option? He thought about how he was supposed to do it from far away, but could he do it here close up? He just needed something to do it with.
"Hellooo!" Rita said, waving a hand in front of his face. "I'm right here!"
"Sorry!" he said back. "I'm just feeling a bit claustrophobic!"
"You don't ever experience that!" She frowned. He wasn't going to tell her. He couldn't. Her knowing the person he was going to kill was in here with her would freak her out. He just knew it.
"I'm gonna just stand near the bar for a bit!" he said now. She came with him, and he tried to calm his breathing. His target was oblivious, having a grand time as he danced with two women. Luke felt his stomach tighten. Did they not know how much of a predator he was? It made him sick. He searched the bar, needing something sharp. Anything would do. He spied a fork, and he inched towards it and snatched it discreetly, tucking it away quickly.
"You feel better?" Rita asked, looking at him now. It was a bit quieter there but not by much.
"A little."
"You really don't like clubs, do you?"
"No," he answered.
"Bad experience?"
"No. I just don't like them."
"That's too bad," she said, reaching to hold his waist and leaning into him. "I think we could have fun."
He was going to let it go. He really was. He had a plan to take out his target tomorrow; he could let tonight be what it was: a night with his wife. Then his target approached the bar, and the man looked at Rita in a way that made Luke's blood boil.
Nope. He had to go. Right now.
"You are bellissimo," the man said to her, and Luke reflexively tightened his grip on Rita's shoulders.
"Erm, what?" Rita asked, sounding nervous.
"Very beautiful," the man translated. "You seem like you're new here."
"My wife and I are on vacation," Luke intervened. Rita gave him a grateful look. He wondered if she could pick up on the bad vibe from this man. He reeked of it.
"Well, if you want some fun later, let me know," the man said with a wink.
"We're good, thanks," Luke confirmed. Rita tucked into him a bit more as the man gave a creepy smile at her.
"For now," he said, winking again. Then he moved on, and Rita shuddered.
"What the hell was that?" she asked, looking at Luke.
"Nothing good," he replied. He pulled himself out of her grasp. "You stay here."
"Luke, what are you going to do?" she asked, catching his hand before he left.
"Just going to have a conversation," he replied.
"Luke..."
"It'll be just fine. Trust me," he said. She held his gaze, and he hoped she couldn't see the look in his eye that he got before he killed someone. He knew it was a cold one.
"Okay," she said finally, releasing his hand. He backed away a step before turning and surging through the crowd after his target. He saw the man go to the washrooms, and Luke followed. He hadn't done recon on this place. He had no idea where the cameras were. He figured there wouldn't be many, but he kept his head low as he went to the washroom, finding his target preening in front of the mirror. Thankfully, they were alone. Luke walked up behind him, making the man look to see him.
"Well, well, well," he said, turning around to face Luke. "You changed your mind."
"No. I just came to say goodnight," Luke replied. He was fast, stabbing that fork into the man's neck more than once until he fell to the ground, bleeding out and choking. Luke made sure he was dead before leaving, still keeping his head low. He got back to Rita, who was looking for him anxiously.
"What happened?" she asked when she saw him.
"Time to go," he answered.
"Luke, what did you do?"
"Not here," he said more firmly. She looked like she was going to protest, but she didn't. She said nothing as he moved in to kiss her, making it appear to anyone watching that the only reason he was leaving was because he wanted her. Hopefully, no one was even paying attention.
At their hotel room, Rita crossed her arms and gave him a look that said she wasn't going to do anything until he explained himself. Sighing, he slid off his dress jacket and pulled out the bloody fork. She inhaled sharply at the sight of it and drops of blood on him.
"What did you do?" she asked, her voice a whisper.
"Turns out I don't need to go to work tomorrow," he replied, setting the fork down on the table next to him. He'd scour it and dispose of it later.
"Wait," she said, "was he...was that man...?"
"Yes," he answered. "He was."
"Oh my God." She pressed a hand to her mouth and turned away. "Oh my God. Luke, you just...you killed him?!"
"He had it coming, believe me," Luke advised. "Do I need to show you his file?"
"No," she said, shaking her head and swallowing hard. "No, you don't. I...I get it. I could definitely feel something bad from him in those few moments."
"You okay?" he asked as he watched her pace a little. She ran a hand through her hair and let it drop to her side. She looked at him again.
"This is what you do. I knew that going into this. It just feels so...weird...to have been in the same building when you did it."
"I really wanted to avoid that," he agreed. "But sometimes changes to the plan are necessary." He stood still, and she eventually came over to hold him tightly. He breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn't mad at him. She said nothing else, and he rested a hand against her head and just held her close.
Two Months Later
Rita was in France, and she was reveling in all that she'd gotten to see earlier that day. Luke was out doing his job, and she was planning their activities for tomorrow. She wished they could do longer than three day stints, but she couldn't be away from work for long periods at a time, so she picked the short ones to go with Luke on. She'd been doing it for a few months now; she was glad he still let her come with him. After the job in Italy, she gained an even better understanding of why Luke did what he did. That man had been extremely creepy, and she'd snooped when Luke was asleep and seen the man's file to know the extent of his horrifying work and had almost vomited afterwards. She really just tried not to think about his job, and she really did not want to know how he killed someone with a bloody fork of all things. If that wasn't using the environment, she didn't know what was.
Now, they were staying in one of Dennis's safe houses in a rural place, which was nice, and the door opened with footsteps coming in shortly after. She smiled. Luke was back.
"Hey, I was thinking..." she said, turning around, and her heart stopped. There was a strange man standing there aiming a gun with a silencer on it at her. She tried to breathe as he stared at her, looking very intent on killing her.
"Please, no," she said, hating the sound of tears in her voice.
"He took what was mine, so I take what was his," the man said in broken English. Rita felt panicked that she was going to die when the door blew open and Luke launched himself at the gunman. She pressed her hands into her mouth as Luke managed to get the gun off him and throw it. He was very fast in his movements, trading blows with the man and managing to throw him clear across the room. Rita watched Luke move to grab the man and haul him back up to fight with him some more, and she felt scared that something was going to happen to him. She moved farther out of the way, waiting to see if he needed help at all. He appeared to very much have things under control, which she couldn't help but feel a little bit proud of.
"Luke!" she cried when the man got a blow in that made Luke stumble. He was thrown, landing hard on the floor. Rita ran to jump on the man's back as he went for his gun and wrapped an arm around his neck tightly, not even caring about her own life in this moment. She couldn't let Luke die.
She yelped as the man backed into the wall, knocking the wind out of her and making her let him go. She tried to engage in hand to hand with him, but he was a blur, and she couldn't keep up. She hit the floor, throwing her arms over her head when he aimed his gun at her. There was more grunting, and she looked to see Luke trying to wrestle the gun from him again.
"NO!" she screamed when the gun went off into Luke's side, but he managed to pull out the man's knife and rammed it into the man's chest and neck repeatedly. The man fell to the floor dead, and Rita found herself shaking and crying.
Luke lost his balance and fell to the floor next, the knife clattering away from him.
"Oh my God," she said, crawling over to him. "Luke? Luke!"
"Kit," he managed to say. "In bag."
She hurried to get it and unzipped it for him. He pulled things out with shaking hands, pushing himself up to sit and lean against the wall afterwards. Rita watched as he pulled up his shirt to reveal the wound, and she almost threw up.
"Shit," he said, groaning. He grabbed a bottle of alcohol and pulled the top off, taking a swig before hissing and sanitizing the wound and tweezers he was going to use to dig for the bullet.
"Luke," Rita said, feeling helpless as he worked. "Did you...did you get it?" He grunted and groaned, pulling it out to reveal the bullet. He was breathing a bit hard now, and he took another swig of alcohol.
"What do we do now?" she asked.
"Cauterize and patch it," he answered.
"H-How do you do that?"
He didn't answer, just poured the alcohol over his wound again, groaning loudly, before packing gunpowder around it and pulling out a lighter. Rita gave a shriek as he lit himself on fire, and he released a cry of pain a moment later. She was gripping her hair tight as he put out the flames and rested his head against the wall. He was damn close to passing out.
"Luke?" she whispered, and he looked at her.
"Shit that hurt," he replied.
"Did you seriously just go all Rambo on me?" she asked, shaking. Luke waited a moment to get his wits about him before he resumed bandaging himself up. He told her to go get some items next.
"Why?"
"Gotta clean this up," he answered. Rita just about vomited again then, but she swallowed it down hard. She understood they couldn't leave behind any evidence.
"Are you going to be okay?" she asked, and he nodded.
"I promise," he said.
"Okay." She hurried to get what he needed, and when she returned, Luke had the dead man rolled in a rug to take out and bury somewhere. She let him do his thing, and when he was done, there was no evidence that someone had died or been greatly injured in the place.
"I'm scared," she confessed as they got ready to leave. It was too dangerous to stay longer now, and she found she didn't even want to. Luke was wincing and holding himself a bit as he moved.
"It'll be alright. Dennis will get me looked after once I'm back," he promised.
"Luke, I...I don't think I can do this again," Rita said. She couldn't stop thinking about how close she'd almost died, and seeing Luke get hurt had made this all too real for her once more. She didn't want this to happen again.
"It's alright," he said. "Now you know why I was hesitant to have you tag along."
"Who was he?" she asked, unable to help herself.
"Target's son," Luke answered. "For the best, really. He would have just picked up where his father left off."
Rita said nothing else as he ushered her out of there. She felt numb and dazed as they got to the plane to head home. She gripped his hand tightly, fearing that she'd lose him if she let go. He slept a lot on the ride home, and she had to keep shaking him awake to ensure he was okay. Upon landing, she took him to Dennis's buddy as per Dennis's instruction.
"Quite the hit," the woman said, eyeing up Luke's wound as he sat at her table. "You took care of it well at least. I'll just make sure nothing else is going to go wrong."
Rita watched quietly next to Luke as the woman worked. Luke held her hand, keeping his eyes on hers to convey he was alright.
"All set," the woman said, snapping off her gloves now. "You had a good teacher, Luke."
"My step-father," Luke replied. Rita felt surprised, but then again, he'd come to her father partly trained after all. She'd just assumed her father had taught him.
"Any issues, just come back," she told him, and Luke nodded while getting to his feet. He pulled Rita up with him, and they left together.
Once they were home, Rita stood in the bedroom feeling numb while Luke pulled his shirt off and groaned from the effort. He was bandaged up, but she could still see the wound plain as day. It was ingrained in her memory forever.
"These things happen, love," Luke said, noticing her looking. She didn't know what to say in response to that, so she just left and went to the bathroom, locking herself in. She gripped the vanity counter with her hands, leaning on it and looking at herself in the mirror. Tears slid down her cheeks as she replayed it over in her mind again.
After ten minutes, she heard Luke outside the door.
"Rita," he said. "You okay?"
She didn't answer, so he unlocked the door and stepped inside carefully. She turned her head to look at him, and he pressed his lips together into almost a grim expression.
"How do you do it?" she asked quietly. "How do you do that all the time?"
"I don't know," he answered. "I just do."
She swallowed fresh tears around the lump in her throat, and he moved closer to her slowly. She let him rest a hand on her back, and then she turned into him to let him hold her close. He didn't say a word as she sobbed, releasing all her feelings about everything that happened.
He was the only one she felt safe enough with to do that.
2001—August
Luke had been gone for six weeks trying to find his mother. Rita was trying not to lose her mind with him being away. He called her when he could, and he'd come home only twice so far. He'd spent both weekends entirely with her, but she could tell he was distracted and thinking about his mother for most of it.
She'd changed jobs and brought home a cat, which helped her feel less alone when he was gone. She was on her hands and knees giving the floor a good scrub just for something to do to keep from going nuts with her thoughts with her stereo blasting Johnny Cash like the old days. Remi kept trying to interfere by being a brat, making Rita keep moving her. It was a game now, she knew.
"Come oooon, stop," Rita groaned when the cat jumped on her back. "Remi!" She twisted, and Remi jumped off, going to sit and observe a foot away. Rita gave her a stare before going back to scrubbing when hands caught her waist.
Rita let out a scream and was about to lash out when she was flipped onto her back and found Luke crouched over her and looking down at her with his crooked grin. Heart pounding from fright and now feeling emotional upon finally seeing him, she couldn't help it...she burst into tears.
"Aw, love," he said, reaching to pull her up into his arms to hold her close. She gripped him tightly, still crying. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
She wanted to sob out how much she missed him, but she didn't want him to feel guilty for trying to find his mother, so she kept it to herself. Feeling him and smelling him again was overwhelming. She didn't care how clingy and emotional she was right now. She bloody well needed him and wanted him to know. Let him think she was upset because he startled her. She didn't care.
"I'm sorry," he kept saying. "I'm so sorry."
Rita didn't know how long she stayed in his arms on the floor crying, but she felt Remi press against her after a bit and meow in concern for her wellbeing. The cat was good for trying to cheer her up when she was sad at least.
"I'm okay," Rita said, finally pulling back and sniffing hard. She wiped at her face as best as she could. She reached to give Remi a rub with her fingers on her head to reassure her, and then, on cue, the cat took off since her duty was done.
"Rita," Luke said, making her look at him again. "I'm close."
"You're not staying," Rita said, understanding. She felt like she was going to choke up again.
"I just need a bit longer," he advised. "I've almost figured out where she is. I would have been sooner, but Dennis sent me on a job again and took up my time."
"How much longer?" she asked, feeling anguish.
"A couple of weeks," he answered. "Tops."
"Oh," Rita said, standing up to get away from him. She couldn't stand it. She began to pace a little, and Luke stood and watched her, not moving. She could see he was just as torn up about it, but he needed to find his mother. She knew if roles were reversed, she'd do the same thing. It just bloody well hurt. She swallowed down her pain and sadness. She had to be strong for him. She couldn't make him feel bad right now.
"Do you want me to leave?" he asked, and she stopped pacing to stare at him. Was he serious? How could he even say that?
"Why would I want you to leave?" she countered.
"I just thought if you were upset with me that maybe you wouldn't want me here," he said. She went over to him and grabbed his shoulders tightly.
"I am not upset with you. Like hell do I want you to leave right now," she told him fiercely.
"Okay."
Rita kissed him hard, needing him so badly in that moment. She could feel his need just as strong, and before long, Remi fled the room entirely to hide from the commotion. Afterwards, Rita rested on Luke's chest on the couch, his dog tags digging into her skin slightly.
"You know I love you, right?" he asked, his fingers going up and down her back lightly.
"Yes."
"I'm really miserable without you," he advised.
"Good," she said, and he chuckled. He pressed his hand flat against her back just under her shoulder blades, and she moved so that her chin was resting on her arms on his chest. He held her gaze, and she knew he was being truthful, that being away from her was killing him just as much.
"What's your latest lead?" she asked.
"South America," he answered. "I just have to narrow down where, which is why it'll take me a bit."
"Do you think she's still alive?"
Luke sighed and pursed his lips a little, thinking. "I don't know."
"How long are you staying?" she asked, needing to know.
"Until Monday morning," he answered. She felt relief. That was two full days she got with him. She'd take it.
"I'll clear my schedule," she advised, and he laughed.
"Don't let me keep you from anything," he said, and she shook her head.
"Nothing's more important than you right now."
"While I'm flattered, I don't expect you to put things on hold just for me."
"Just shut up and take the compliment, okay?" she ordered.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Don't call me that," she warned. "I'm nowhere near 'ma'am' age yet." Luke smirked and poked her in the ribs, which made her wrestle with him a bit. Then she pressed her cheek against his collarbone, feeling his fingers smooth her hair gently.
"We'll get through," he promised. "We always do."
She made a nonverbal sound of agreement in her throat. She knew that no matter what happened to them, they'd always find their way back to each other.
Guaranteed.