***OH MY GOODNESSS! It’s the end of my vanderbby’s backstory, but hold onto your seats because, guess what? My OTP VanderwoodxOC Cerise will be rolling out with an rp conversion soon!!!!
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Chapter Directory. ~Let’s Connect! FFC***
He was finding it so hard to focus. His tie was annoying enough, but the suit was hot and uncomfortable. Why did he have to wear a suit? Oh, right, for the mission he was supposed to be paying attention to. Tonight, he would be framing someone for the murder of a seedy public official. They had dealings in sex trafficking, each of them. There was a small syringe of the chemical that the other man, the one being framed, was developing in his labs. So far, as far as anyone else knew, that lab was the only one to have this particular lethal chemical, and it was meant to be used for disposing of chemical waste, but Vanderwood was about to change that.
Vanderwood pulled on the collar of his suit once more. It felt like he was going to die. He much preferred his shirts and jacket. At least they were comfortable and easier to move around in. Although sometimes the jacket did get a little in the way just because he preferred to wear it over his shoulders rather than on, so that people could see the leopard print. Say what you would about him, but he happened to think it looked rather good. It was certainly the most expensive thing he’d ever owned besides his imported mattress and his agency issued taser. He felt oddly…comforted by the print. Seven had asked him once why he wore it, but that was all he could come up with. Trying to think about it made him upset.
The target was walking past now. A tall, slick-haired man with a beautiful woman on his arm. Vanderwood found her far more interesting, probably because he was already irritated. Honestly, Vanderwood would be surprised if the woman wasn’t an escort. Her dress was body hugging, silver like her nail polish and jewelry. The only thing that wasn’t silver was her hair which was a light purple, although it did have a hint of gray tone to it. Maybe she dyed it? No, it looked natural.
She was unique, but she had assets, and that was all Vanderwood ever cared about with women really, besides making sure that they didn’t touch him. Watching her with the target, she was definitely an escort. No one else would notice the way she was touching him just this way, making sure to keep her attention focused solely on her client. Yeah, escort. His eyebrow twitched as he once more discreetly tugged at his collar. Damn he wanted to hit that, she looked like a good fuck…, just to get some relaxation out of tonight.
He’d been watching them all night, waiting for his opening, and now, here it was. Vanderwood followed the target and his escort from the ballroom of the hotel and up the elevator, taking the adjacent one. It wouldn’t be long now. Quietly, he stood at the door, listening for when the man would finish, and he snorted when it only lasted five minutes. At least she was getting paid, Jesus. He was probably going to have to pay her off handsomely. If he knew escorts, he knew they just needed money, at least the good ones.
Vanderwood carefully inserted the hotel key that Seven had created, pressing the button on his phone that alerted Seven to the fact that he was commencing with the hit. The redhead would keep his location and send in a call for reinforcement if Vanderwood was gone longer than fifteen minutes, but the brunet really wasn’t worried.
He made his way in quick, taking the syringe and decapping it to hear the sound of the escort gasping as she dropped the dress she’d been putting back on, re-exposing herself, probably a self-defense mechanism meant to stun the attacker, but he wasn’t paying attention to her at the moment. The man was shouting something along the lines of ‘What are you doing here?’ when Vanderwood shoved the needle into the man’s thigh. The chemical apparently reacted quickly as his veins started to protrude and turn purple, his hands scratching at his throat as he fell.
Now he allowed himself to pay attention to the escort, turning to face the woman who had so far remained silent since her first gasp. She was eyeing him, false modesty had her covering her body. He snorted softly looking her over. God, it would be so nice to get out of this suit and into her, but he couldn’t do that while on a mission. Based on the way she now lifted her chin, giving him a calm and collected look, she knew that he wasn’t being fooled. Her tone was soft and gentle, like the brush of soft fabric along your skin, a little too pure for his taste, but so be it. “I won’t talk. I’m not stupid. You don’t even have to pay me. I’d rather be alive.”
She really was smart. He straightened out his shoulders as she dropped her arms away and went to put on her dress again. “Thought you were in this for the money.” It wasn’t really a question, but she answered anyway. “I am. Paying for law school and putting some money in savings, but I don’t want to be killed for greed. I easily make enough money as it is.” He noted that even though her voice was soft, it wasn’t not childish, more like sweet seduction. Vanderwood was actually smirking a little. So far, she hadn’t tried to touch him, beg for her life, nor threaten to blackmail him which was what he was used to.
This one was the genuine real deal detached escort. “How much for an hour?” It rolled off his tongue like normal conversation. There was a dead body in front of him and a now elegantly dressed escort to his right, but it was such an easy topic still. His life would never be normal, clearly; he’d accepted that a long time ago.
“$2,000 for one hour. I won’t touch you anywhere you don’t ask me to, and I’m silent unless otherwise requested. Do you want to right now?” Her eyes slipped to the man on the ground. “In another room?” She was so calm, probably some other client had met a similar fate before, that or she was really well trained by her pimp. Most likely the first option, seeing as she wasn’t even shaking. As tempting as her offer was, he couldn’t now, even though he wanted to. “Give me your number.”
Crystal was her name. She was so simple, so perfectly suited for his needs, and she didn’t want anything from him other than her money and to leave at the end of the night. Sometimes he would ask her about how school was going, tell her to be wary of her pimps and johns, particularly if clients getting killed was a normal thing for her. Usually she would give him a small smile and tell him that she knew what she was doing.
Only once, the week he had her there every day, did she ask him why he needed an escort when he was such a great catch. He actually told her the truth. “I’m a sex addict and a secret agent. I can’t ever find love or be in a relationship.” Vanderwood said it casually as he pulled his shirt back on. It was the anniversary of his brother’s death, that’s why that week was so hard, although usually he’d be seeing a different woman every night. Her soft tones grated a little on his ears for the first time when she answered. “There’s someone out there for you. She’ll heal you. You just haven’t found her yet.” Vanderwood had snorted at her before she left.
He still called her the next day. She was the most perfect woman he would ever have in his life. In fact, she would be the only woman he would ever have actually in his life. Just one to two hours at a time, most often once a week or whenever things got to be too much. That was just the woman he needed.
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