The Trouble With Trying to Save an Assassin (Murder Sprees and Mute Decrees #2)

by Jennifer Cody

“I swear I’m not an idiot,” Bellamy whispers, squeezing my hand. We’re a touchy family. And yes, we are a family, even if sometimes Bellamy prefers to pretend we aren’t. He pretends less and less with each week that passes. Fox reaches past me and flicks Bellamy’s nose. “We don’t disparage ourselves,” he grunts. We save that for the people we murder. Fox reads my text and kisses the side of my head. “That’s right.”

Fox stops in his tracks, turns around, pulls me into his arms, and does that thing where he tries to shut me up with a kiss. Honestly, I’m mute. I can’t be silenced with kisses. Distracted by them, yes, but not silenced. Gawd, he’s so smexy.

Anyone else think I’ve got the most interesting luck on the planet? Well, it’s true. Look, I know I’m covered in mud and muck, but I guarantee you that something cool is about to happen. My luck always balances itself out. Probably going to get laid or something equally hot.

This is one of my favorite parts of showering with Fox. Yes, the sex is always grand, but the intimacy of him letting me wash his body feeds my soul. I can’t tell him that I love him whenever I want. I have to make him feel it, and these little acts of service are how I do that. Fox’s way of showing he loves people is by doing stuff for them; he feels loved when I do things for him, and he knows that acts of service are not my main love language. Mine is the giving and receiving of gifts all the way. So he gives me little and big things and I do stuff for him, and we both fill each other’s love buckets up that way.

“I love how intuitive you are,” Fox chuckles, kissing my cheek. I smile brightly and wiggle to reward him; he should always kiss me every chance he gets. I’ve been training him for two months to habitually give me the affection I need to sustain my contentment, and I’m reaping the rewards for all my hard work every day.

I cackle at the conversation he’s having with himself and a wash of love pours over me from the fact that he hasn’t refused to read aloud anything I’ve sent him. He knows how special I feel when he lends me his voice, and even when I’m teasing him, he puts up with it because he loves me. And yes, children, this is what love does. It’s far more important as a verb than it is as a noun, take it from someone who relies on actions to make my family feel loved.

I don’t know how it’s been eight weeks and I still get butterflies when he takes my hand. He’s my favorite person on this planet, and I hope I never lose my excitement at his touch. Have you ever just gotten lost in the wonder of your partner? Sometimes, I look at Fox, and yeah, I can see how very average he is physically, but all that normalcy is completely overshadowed by the wonder that exists below the surface, and I just get lost in him. He entrances me.

Fox is mad enough to summon a thunderstorm in a matter of seconds. “My Harbinger and I will not take any jobs until we get our Acolyte back, you cocksucking, bootlicking, fartsniffing asskisser. And when I find my Acolyte, I’m coming for you.” He ends the call and tosses the phone onto the desk. “I may have just revoked your ward,” he explains as he starts gathering all our stuff into a pile.

My vocal cords were removed when I was a baby. I don’t have a voice. I never learned how to talk and I am really, really bad at mouthing words. “He’s so bad at it,” Fox interjects with a laugh in his voice. “His idea of making word forms includes a lot of clicking his tongue.” I demonstrate my ability to click with meaning by mouthing Fuck you at the love of my life. It basically comes out as me loudly sucking my bottom lip into my teeth, making that ck sound at the back of my mouth, and kissing the air. It's embarrassing how bad I am at this. “As much as you like, my love, as soon as possible.”

“I love you.” That’s not a declaration; that’s a reminder, and people only do that when they’re about to do something that might make their partners question their love. I shake my head at him and smirk because nothing he will ever do will make me question that. I am completely confident in his commitment to his love for me. The corners of his lips twitch in his version of a public smile. “I believe you.”

Of course I’ve been scared about losing it all. I’ve never gotten to keep it before. The two mass murders I survived before meeting Fox taught me that death is never far and life is fragile. I survived, of course I did, and I’m an absolute delight because deep in my bones I know that life is short and death is always a hair’s breadth away. So yes, life did the thing it always does to me. It took what’s mine away by force. But guess what, fuckers. Whoever took Bellamy can suck my dick because Fox isn’t going to let them keep what they’ve taken from me. I’m safe and my treasures are safe, because Fox is making us safe.

Fox can get away with not threatening people; I’m not that scary. Give me another few thousand years and maybe I’ll get there too, but let’s be realistic, I’m a bubble of pure sunshine—it’s unlikely I’m going to ever be scary enough to not have to threaten to sic Fox on people. I’ve accepted this fate; Fox deserves my sunshine and delightfulness, and it’s a fair trade to take his intense loyalty and protection.