Chapter 4: Gut Feeling

AN: Another chapter in less than a month, I'm on a roll. Plus I wrote this chapter while dealing with a severe case of stomach virus. I'm so surprised by and grateful for all the love and support for this fic. Make sure y'all are washing your hands and staying safe!

P.S: In light of recent depressing events in the U.S, I thought it was important to remind everyone that I'm pro-black asf and I don't care who doesn't like it. I'm riding for my people always.


The veil of darkness began to lift as your eyes fluttered open, slowly bringing you into awareness. Pieces of consciousness began to break through your mind, sifting through the murky confusion. One by one your senses started to resurface, the drowsiness sweeping over you was causing mild discomfort. The coolness in the room was greatly welcomed. You couldn't stand a humid room. It bothered your soul. You were practically buried in the cool sheets of the bed and the opposite side of the bed was empty. A dry mouth revealed that you were beyond dehydrated.

A soft noise drew your attention towards somewhere else in the room. John came into your line of vision, fully dressed and unruffled, nary a hair out of place. The man's hair was slicked back, and a custom fitting charcoal suit hugged his body. You paid extra attention to the details, like the notch lapels, two buttons, and the monochromatic clothing underneath. It had to be one of your favorites so far. You observed how he moved around the room and outfitted various items back unto his body. After a moment, the man noticed that he was being watched as your eyes locked onto each other.

You tried to lean up but a wave of dizziness and an irritated throat prevented that. "Water." You requested, throat sounding more scratchy than it should.

John with his usual attentive self, brought you bottled water from a place near the bar which you messily gulp down. Strangely enough, you had no throbbing headache to contend with, and that was a first. Besides the dehydration and initial sluggishness you summarized that the symptoms were at least tolerable. Having John carry you around and pacify you wasn't a burden you wanted to place on him.

A small glimpse at your phone revealed that it was around nine thirty and showed a few messages from the group chat clocked at different times that you decided not to open until you made it home. You needed a moment to process one of the most satisfying nights you'd ever had.

There was a pleasurable soreness between your thighs, the area being your freshly nutted in cunt. Seeing as how you'd fell asleep right after there was no point in urinating. Sex had become such an essential ritual for the both of you. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't addicted to it already. What could you say? The man was gifted when it came to snatching your soul and you were sure his dick had superpowers. For you, it was mind/body battle everyday. Honestly, even now you felt a little embarrassed that you wouldn't mind initiating another session. Not only that but you didn't want to get used to wanting him, yet you didn't know if it was too late. For all you knew, you were probably knee deep by now.

To tell the truth, you were still debating if you wanted to fully accept his gift of money. Many people would happily take it with no questions asked. The man had casually left you a thousand dollars like it was nothing to him. Maybe it wasn't. Murder for hire seemed to be a lucrative business. A business that paid especially well. However, it still felt weird to appease each other's sexual needs then be given monetary compensation. For a while, you thought about what you could spend that money on. Though perhaps it was better to put the money in your savings for a rainy day.

You watched quietly as he resumed rearming himself while you gathered your bearings, carefully refitting weapons on his body. A handgun was placed in a holster strapped securely across his chest. A small knife was even positioned in a place on his belt. Having been acquainted with him for a while now, you knew that this was a normal occurrence before he left to go anywhere. It was his protection. And considering his line of work, it was heavily required.

Grimacing as you struggled to lift yourself up from the lying position, you moved into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, feet making contact with the carpeted floor. Without any prompting, John strode back over to you, with your discarded clothing, now neatly folded. Instead of handing you the clothes, he sat them on the bed next to you before gently moving the sheet that concealed your nudity. Your cheeks flushed but he'd already seen your exposed body many times before. There wasn't any point in getting embarrassed. He was planning on assisting you in redressing and you were definitely in dire need of that assistance.

Nothing about this was strange, John had always displayed a kind nature towards you and remained attentive of your needs in any setting. There wasn't a time where he didn't handle you with the utmost care. It was times like this where he voluntarily breached his emotionless facade in your presence that further cemented the fondness you knew he had for you. Receiving proof through affection and concern was a nice touch. Something about being appreciated sat really well with you.

Strong hands grazed over your moisturized brown skin, effectively lifting you into a standing position by your waist. Your corset top would be first, he pulled it over your head until it concealed your breasts once more. Surprisingly, you didn't feel any shame about how his keen gaze lingered over your chest as he completed the action. He then kneeled down directly in front of you, face dangerously close to your womanhood as he slipped your lace panties on, dept fingers lightly brushing over your lower lips. It caused your breath to catch as he continued on. He even took the time to sit you back on the bed and put your heels on. His nice actions were causing your body to stir against your better judgement. Meanwhile, you still had trouble getting over the image of him whispering a foreign language in your ear while stroking you out.

"Thank you."

You managed to pile all of your braids into a messy bun, it wasn't how you'd regularly style it but you desperately wanted it out of your face for the time being. It was all a part of the mental preparation for the walk of shame.

His deep baritone, composed and even. "Are you ready?"

Reaching over the nightstand, you retrieved your small purse. "Yeah."


Once a person exited that lift, the establishment was quite the sight. Unlike the previous night, the lobby/reception area was filled with men and women conversing and indulging themselves with copious drinks. This gave you full confirmation that the place served the needs of its guests of its exclusive patrons. One night here would probably cost hundreds if not thousands of dollars. Those with a modest pension like you could not afford such structured accommodation. You didn't think you had the pleasure of being in such a refined hotel before and it made you ponder just how loaded John was to be able to afford it for a few nights. From what you'd gathered so far, John was a very well-respected man. Most men and women made sure to acknowledge him in a respectful manner, almost as if they were honoring him in the best possible way with a short greeting.

In spite of this, the people still regarded you with a puzzling expression. Obviously, your paramour did not walk a woman through the hotel lobby often. John ignored the attention, merely keeping a hand at the small of your back as he guided you through the large space full of curious people.

Instead of heading straight for the door, John leads you to a chair near the concierge's desk mostly isolated from the other patrons and urges you to take a seat. "I'll be back. Stay right now."

Noting the seriousness in his voice that booked no argument, you simply nodded, not even asking where he was going. The hitman lingered a minute longer to give you a pacifying glance before he swept past, moving to speak to the concierge about something quietly. John then disappeared from sight, where he was going you had no idea.

Sitting in the chair, you listened to the general chatter of the huge room while waiting for the man to return. Luckily, you didn't get easily bored and managed to distract yourself by watching people go about their business. For a while, you managed to resist the urge to stay in your seat but you knew that could only last so long. After five more minutes, you make the executive decision against John's instructions to wander with the exception of not touching anything.

Glancing up, you noticed that the building had a beautiful ceiling that was illuminating a royal blue with designs that were like something out of the 15th chapel. The whole place was big enough to have not one but two lobbies, a lounge seating area, and a few nooks. Simply walking around, you'd attracted quite a few eyes. This of course wasn't that surprising as you were certainly out of place here. Last night's attire surely didn't make it any better. You'd without a doubt given the wealthy elite an eye full.

"Excuse me Miss, may I assist you in any way?"

The voice shouldn't have started you that much to the point of jumping.

The polite, concierge asked the question with a poised accent. He was a tall black man who wore glasses standing behind the lobby desk.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Oh no, thank you. I'm just waiting for a friend."

"As you wish. I am here at your leisure should you require anything."

"Okay."

"I must say, that must have been quite the interesting game last night."

Your face heated at the veiled statement despite trying not to make it obvious that you'd gotten screwed within an inch of our life last night. You refused to look the man in the face, too afraid that your eyes would give everything away.

"Umm, yeah it was." You utterly lowly.

The man said nothing else, possibly sensing your embarrassment and not wanting to add to it any further. You were grateful for this.

Having learned your lesson, you moved to retake your seat, deciding that you would remain there until John made a reappearance. Shortly after, John came back, the two of you began to make the journey to the elaborate double door entrance.

A trek that should have been short was soon intercepted by a woman stepping in between you both and the exit. Her attire was mostly black in color, a decently sized fur coat over her shoulders, with black boots. dark shoulder length hair, and overused eyeliner.

"John."

John inclined his head in greeting. "Perkins."

"I haven't seen much of you lately."

"Back from Munich so soon?"

The way she casually walked up to John demonstrated familiarity. If you had to guess, the woman had to be one of his colleagues. This couldn't have been an issue seeing as John was always polite and cordial to others. This woman's attitude was bothering you. Not the fact that she herself was bothered by you. This woman obviously had some conniving ass ways. She excluded such an arrogance and bitterness about her that immediately made you put your hackles up.

She smoothly removed her black gloves from her pale hands that looked like they felt cold to the touch. Black nail polish graced every single finger nail. Geez, was she goth or did she just have an obsession with the color black?

She was standing entirely too close to him, smiling and staring intently into his face. The very sight irked you a good deal. Making teasing remarks and placing a hand on his suit jacket. It gave you the sickening suspicion that the woman held some sort of interest in John other than being just colleagues. The superficial politeness was not fooling anyone, least of all you. You shifted, warily watching the pair interact.

Evidently, John and this woman had dealings but you didn't know how far those dealings extended. You'd already put money on it that she probably did the same kind of work as John. Regardless of whether you liked it or not, these two had history together and that was enough to warrant some kind of scrunity. Having gained all this information, you found that you didn't know what to do with all of it. In spite of the fact that, it made you a bit more curious about his past.

The biggest issue for you was that she spoke as if you were not standing there next to him. In view of this, it made it extremely awkward to take the dismissal of your person in stride.

Her goal seemed mainly to hold a conversation with and smile buoyantly at your male companion, all the while ignoring your existence. You noticed that John did not reciprocate the woman's blanant flirtatious attempts. Almost nothing could break through his stone cold demeanor that easily. No matter how one tried to flip it, her actions were rude in your eyes. Moreover, it really seemed like she was making an effort to flirt with him directly in front of you. And if you summed it up in one word perfectly, it would have to be childish. Completely and utterly childish. And you didn't play those types of games.

In a bold move, you cleared your throat loudly. The sound drawing attention from the seemingly one-sided conversation and unto you. You purposely cut her off whilst she was speaking and she cut her eyes venomously at you for a brief second. A faux smile then replaced the look.

"Oh...I almost didn't notice you there." It was then her eyes cut back to John. "Friend of yours?"

Okay, being a bitch was something she clearly liked. It was crazy because it didn't take much to be a decent person to others. You couldn't stand people that had the nerve to display assertiveness and uppity behavior all at once.

"Yes...I'm a friend of his." You answered swiftly before John, tone displaying as much fakeness as a two dollar bill.

"Oh okay. You know that's a nice skirt. I mean, not everyone can pull it off."

You expected her to say something like, "But it looks nice on you." And yet no comment of the sort left her mouth. It was such a backhanded comment. Almost like she was sneak dissing. Catching a glimpse of her lip quirking at the corner, served to enrage you further.

The hand that was at your lower back moved to wrap securely around your waist, if you had to guess, it was to keep you from attacking the provoking woman.

The nerve of her while she was standing here looking like a wicked ass witch in all black. What someone else thought about you wasn't your main concern, nor was it any of your business. But you couldn't ignore your temper being ignited. You had no problem letting the woman know that you got active. You needed to get away from the insufferable bitch before you drug her ass clean across the lobby floor.

"Well, it was nice seeing you again John."

John inclined his head, a clear favored action of his. "Perkins."

The woman then slid past you both, fur coat nearly brushing your shoulder on the way. A muscle in your jaw clenched as John resumed moving you out of the doors to the outside.


It was so eerily quiet in the car besides the loud hum of the engine. By this point, you'd give your left lung for him to turn on the radio and engulf the space with some other sound. Quietly staring out the window at the passing surroundings was all you cared to do at the moment. Well, that and occasionally scrolling down your Twitter feed. You were sitting there quietly bristling in the passenger seat of the rumbling vehicle trying to come up with a reason to be angry with him. For all your wasted effort, you could find none. During the exchange, John had only displayed his usual countenance of stoicism. The two of you were not together, so why were you getting in your feelings about it? You could not expect anything from men whom you don't have a commitment with. And you feel that you were a confident enough woman to separate your emotions.

Becoming too emotionally invested could cause major problems from both ends. Although that whole encounter really rubbed you the wrong way. And you weren't the type to be jealous of another woman either. You didn't feel threatened per say but you did feel like you might be a threat to someone else. As things currently stood, you weren't sure if John held the same deep emotional connection as you did with him. So now you were in a sort of grey area, unsure of what to say or what to do. You didn't want confusion to be a regular occurrence when it came to John.

When the car pulled up to your apartment building, John took the key out from the ignition, bathing the car in silence.

"Do you still have to work?"

"Yeah."

"When will I see you again?"

"When I'm done."

Naturally, John still had business to take care of, meaning his schedule was too occupied for you to be around at the moment. He could be gone for days or weeks, it all depended on the work you guessed.

Unconsciously, your lip curled in, an action that happened when you were severely upset or disappointed. The expression didn't evade John's keen eyes, since being capable of reading people was undoubtedly an aspect of the lethal work he did.

Pulling on the door handle, you hurriedly left the car. John with a quickness that almost scared you, exited the car and rounded the vehicle before you could jog up the stairs. His experienced hands grasped a hold of your arms as John stared down at you. "Is there something wrong?"

Though your body language was dead giveaway and highly questionable. It was easy to sense the weariness. He had no right to wonder why you were feeling how you were currently. "I'm okay."

Sharp brown eyes hardened at the proclamation. "A lie."

It was a lie. A lie you knew he'd easily decipher. How could you forget - he was totally capable of reading you and your emotions. The notion left you slightly more irritated than surprised.

There was crushing tension in the air now, and you avoided looking at him even after he posed the question.

You tried hard not to falter under the normally calming gaze of his deep brown orbs, consoling you in their own silent way. Once again, reinforcing that profound, unspoken understanding between both of you.

Even more so, you made an attempt to turn away from his handsome face.

Regardless of how bad you wanted to, you decided not to voice your acute discontent. Too afraid of having to voice the issue out of fear of how it would be perceived. John was not the type of man that one threw heated accusations at and unleashed desperate emotions. Instead, you opted to shake your head in a firm 'no' to avoid bringing the topic to the forefront.

"Can you wait patiently until I return? Can you do that for me?"

The hand holding your face seemed like such a harmless gesture but it was more than enough to send heat flooding straight into your belly. Your heart was pounding like a bass drum the longer you stared. His actions filled your chest with a habitial warmth you'd grown accustomed to feeling with him, which was quite often. Despite his outwardly cold exterior to others, John possessed many qualities that made you melt. Even with his steely gaze trained on you.

He leaned in to place a kiss on the left side of your mouth and you froze up at the action. He'd never done that before. Not giving you a proper kiss. Your heart sank at the realization. Though you could be overreacting. Maybe the experienced assassin had considered that you probably wouldn't be open to kissing since you had yet to brush your teeth. That seemed to be a logical explanation. But nevertheless, a pang of hurt throbbed inside your chest and you couldn't dismiss it. Realistically speaking, you weren't even supposed to be feeling such nauseating emotions.

Against your judgement, you still found yourself nodding.

The intensity of his gaze always cut through you like glass and maintaining it was difficult. The look made you feel nervous, anxious, and fidgety all at once.

Utterly upset with yourself now, you leaned off the car moving to hurriedly slip past him and venture up the stairs towards the apartment building's entrance without looking back.


You sighed as you leaned back against your apartment door. The scent of sandalwood evaded your nose, producing a calming effect. It felt good to be in the comfort of your own house.

You definitely needed a nice hot soak in your tub to ease some of the soreness you still felt from last night. The soak would also provide a clear mind for you. Plus you did some of your best thinking in the bathtub. Venturing straight into the bathroom, you turn on the taps and started your normal morning routine even though it was just now touching eleven. Afterwards a bath had been drawn and you added a few bath bombs from Bath and Body works before slipping into the water. Sighing as the water alleviated both your muscles and your mood.

Only after allowing yourself to relax did you truly let your mind wander on both today's and last night's events. You'd learned from some women that a woman will be naturally submissive to a man that they trust to lead. It didn't get much safer than in his arms. John Wick was a fundamentally good man (given that no one had a quarrel with him) in your eyes and no one's opinion could ever change that. What man could be so amicable despite killing people for a living.

The impersonal kiss only made you assume the worst. Any other time, he'd be spot on about the hygiene issue but after that interaction with the 'Perkins' woman, you'd surely appreciate a firm kiss on the lips if only for reassurance. Perhaps she was a past girlfriend he was still dealing with on the regular. You really didn't have much to go on. Flirting can look different for many people. There were different levels that ranged between innocent and inappropriate. You and John were not dating and of course he was appealing to other women. Who's to say you were acting ridiculous?

You really shouldn't be getting so worked up over something so trivial but you couldn't help it. What could you do? Withdraw from him altogether? This man had gone out of his way to kill people for you, there was no way in hell the man would accept that in stride.

The man certainly didn't fuck you like a regular hookup so it was hard not to be conflicted over the contact killer. It wasn't good to rely on a man for your happiness, you knew that from the jump. It was much too risky. On the other hand, you had to come to terms with knowing that there were moments where you felt intensely possessive of him. You craved his time and attention. When it came to him, he had the power to make you lose all rational thought.

Staunchly reminding yourself of that formal peck you'd received left an unfamiliar emotion bubbling in your chest, giving birth to more worrisome thoughts. And you were the type to cry when seriously angered. But why did you wish to feel so enraged? Was it a normal human response? No matter what it was, the worries wouldn't wither away so easily.

You just didn't find it logical to overreact about him exchanging pleasantries with another woman regardless of the circumstance. Maybe your pride was just hurt - hurt that other women might be receiving the same attention as you. Realistically speaking, everyone liked to think they were special in someone's eyes. Your someone being John.

Still, you refused to let the situation gnaw at you for an extended period of time. The last time you wanted to do was make a problem out of something that in actuality might not be a problem. To top it all off, you had a tendency to overthink things to the point where it had the power to make or break your entire day. And you weren't the type to ignore something because it made you uncomfortable. You had to grasp a hold of your incoherent thoughts somehow. There were other important things to worry about. You could this little hiccup take priority.

You took your time washing up before you ultimately left the tub. You changed into a shirt and comfortable sweatpants.

You witnessed him shoot a man through the head last night. You'd think any sane person would be bothered but you couldn't conjure up any feelings of sympathy. That man meant to do you harm. Though it did lead you to another set of unanswered questions like - how was he able to find you at the club?

What was up with the vibe of that hotel? How many assassins were there in New York? Could there possibly be a community of potential hitmen?

You had faith that God would safely take you out of a situation you had no business being in.

That wasn't the point. The two of you were from different worlds. And as different as you both may be, there were many common threads that kept you both tied together. The abundance of trust and reliance were evidence of that. With John your feminue energy flowed nicely. You didn't have to have any defenses up; didn't have to have any masculine energy because he had it all. All you could do was be a woman. Be you.

Everytime you get agitated you consider unplugging from all social media. Usually because you start to realize how draining interacting with people truly is. At this juncture, you weren't sure about interacting with people for the next couple of weeks, or months. On occasion, it helps you come back to yourself after a long week or event depresses you. You thought about sitting in front of the TV for the remainder of the day but that was more of a Sunday kind of thing instead of Saturday. There was a can of chicken noodle soup in your cabinet that sounded absolutely appetizing.

You would usually do a deep cleaning or cook a meal as a form of personal therapy. It was insane how doing what's best for you could feel so wrong because you're used to considering everyone else's feelings. It seriously left you with some legitimate concerns, you didn't want to end up in a self sabotaging situation. Regardless, you needed to get rid of the depressing vibe.

Luckily, you were able to call your friends over to keep you company for a while so you wouldn't feel lonely. They were too happy to oblige and even brought one of your college friends named Tre. Tre, humorously nicknamed, 'Trey Songz', was someone whom the three of you had met during freshman year and had been friends ever since. You generally liked when Tre came around because he was just so likable and funny even in the worst situation. He also was the one who offered advice on how men typically worked.

Everyone had piled in your bedroom like always and the chill session began.

"Tre, I thought I saw you with Jeremy." Jasmine remarked, her brows clenched together in confusion.

"You did. He went to his old lady house."

"Oh. Well what about you and Cece? Y'all still not talking?"

"Nope. Fuck her."

"Don't say that. You know y'all will be back talking by tomorrow."

"But we not though."

"Y'all get mad at each other over the stupidest stuff. Over some fishnets...really?"

"See...you all in my business and don't know what you talking about."

"That's what she told me trick!"

"She lied."

Alexis rolled her eyes. "It doesn't even matter cause y'all will be right back together. Mark my words."

Jasmine nodded in agreement. "Tre y'all need to get like Jeremy and Cece."

"Girl, please. Jeremy is pussywhipped. He do everything that girl asks him to."

"Good. That's what you need."

Tre immediately stopped rolling the weed, turning to give Jasmine a look. "Who? I'll be damned."

You screeched loudly watching the banter between your friends. They never failed to provide you with a good laugh.

"So Tre, what does it mean if you're messing around with a guy and he gives you money."

"Honestly, it depends. It could mean two things. One, he really likes you. Or two, you probably just a lil hoe to him. You know, do some strange for a little piece of change."

Alexis shifted her neck in your direction, a shit-eating grin on her face. "I'm just asking for a friend…"

You wordlessly mouthed, "Imma beat yo ass." to her while clenching your teeth. Sadly, Tre just so happened to look up and see your face.

"I know she's asking for you. I heard you got a little boo." He teased.

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, shifting to cross your legs on the bed. "First off, he's not my boo. And where you hear that from?"

He shrugged. "You know the streets talk."

At that statement, you looked right over at your friends - aka 'The Streets.' This was one of those times where you wanted to look into an imaginary camera like you were on an episode of The Office.

"He's just somebody I been talking to for a little minute." Talking being code for fucking.

"So he got money?"

"I mean...he's not wanting for nothing that's for damn sure."

"Ask her how much he gave her last time." Alexis urged, unable to contain the messiness that had been building for over a week. Telling Tre was just the icing on the cake.

All eyes turned to you in that moment, expecting an answer worthy of astonishment.

You rather not talk about John right now but at the entertainment of your messy ass friends you decided to indulge this one time.

"He left a thousand on my nightstand yesterday morning."

Tre nearly jumped from his seat. "A thousand?! Damn, what kinda job does he have to be handing out a thousand dollars?"

"I don't know about all that. That's not my business to tell."

"If I can tell y'all about all the details of my sex life then you can tell me what yo man do."

You felt it necessary to lie to them. There wasn't any way you could tell them that John dispatched people for money. It shouldn't have been that surprising though. Half the girls that live in the southside had drug dealer boyfriends that either attempted to kill someone or already have.

"Aint nobody told you to tell us that! You do that on your own!" Jasmine piped up.

"Look I can't tell you what the man does because I'm not too sure myself. If you happen to meet him, then you can ask yourself but you probably won't so…" You shrugged.

"Whatever."

"Oh yeah, did y'all hear that someone got shot at the club we were at last night?"

The question struck a thread of anxiety in your gut that you quickly pushed down in order to feign ignorance. There wasn't any doubt that your friends would side with you if they knew the full details, but at this point, you didn't want to chance it. Your main thought was to protect John at all costs.

"No, I didn't know that." You lied.

"Yep, someone shot him point blank in the head. Some girl found him in the bathroom."

Tre made a disapproving sound. "Shot that boy five times went to juvenile."

You let out a scream so loud you briefly wondered if the neighbors thought you were being murdered. That video with the little boy saying that was so funny that you'd rewatched it at least ten times. Hearing it come from Tre's mouth in such an amused matter made it five times more hilarious. You were grateful for their presence as you definitely needed a laugh right now.