Angel and the Assassin

fenced-in patio of the Old Duke Pub. The
    waiter strolled over and smiled at him. “What can I get you, sir?”
    Kael‟s look said, Your arse, but I’m too busy right now . “Lager.” He would not
    drink it, but he needed to look like he belonged there. The waiter returned promptly
    with his drink. “Enjoy your beer, sir.” He leaned in, smiling as if to say something
    private. Kael kept his eyes on the glass.

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    “Directly ahead of you is a man in a black jacket with a blue shirt underneath,
    wearing a black flat cap. There is another man sitting with him. The man in the cap
    is your target. Back of the head, two bullets.”
    Kael handed him a fiver and sat back, watching the street while keeping the

target in his peripheral vision. Coming to a quick decision, he carefully eased his
    gun from the shoulder holster, keeping it under his jacket. He rose and stepped
    outside the fence. Exactly five paces brought him to their table. In the split second
    that he stood there, he caught the harsh-edged consonants of the Bosnian language.
    He could speak no more than a few words, but he knew what he was hearing.
    In the space of less than five seconds, he feigned a slight stumble, and as he
    apologized, brought the gun around the back of the man‟s head, fired twice, and
    walked quickly away. The silencer muffled the shots, and he was around the corner
    before the man slumped forward onto the table, blood running from his mouth.

    148
    Fyn Alexander

    Chapter Seventeen

    Angel woke up cramped and angry. No daylight penetrated the dungeon. Sir
    had left the light on low, but he knew it was morning, it must be. He needed to pee,
    and he always needed to pee in the morning.
    “Sir!” he screamed, knowing the room was soundproofed. Angel sat listening
    very closely. There was no sound, but even in a soundproofed room, there had to be
    something. No one could use the toilet without the sound of water running. The
    pipes that connected the toilet and shower across the room were all plumbed into
    the same lines as the bathroom. Even he knew that, and he knew nothing about
    household maintenance.
    “Master! Sir!”
    Sir wasn‟t there. He had gone out and not returned.
    Angel looked at the standing cage beside the dog crate. He should definitely
    have picked that one; his legs wouldn‟t be so stiff. What if Sir never came back?
    What if he had left Angel there to die because Angel saw him kill Sven? There was
    something very odd about Kael Saunders. People called him by different names. The
    cleaner had gone missing after she saw Angel. He didn‟t seem to have any family or
    friends, except Freddie, and Sir admitted he had not seen Freddie in years.
    Taking one of the empty water bottles, Angel positioned his penis at the neck
    and held it firmly with his fist over his dick and the bottle neck to create a tight fit.
    The relief he felt as he filled the bottle was very comforting. Afterward he screwed
    on the lid and placed it outside the cage.
    Reaching through the bars, he hefted the combination lock. It was a heavy one.
    He glanced around for something to pick it with, but there was nothing in reach and
    he had no idea how to do such a thing anyway. Randomly, he began trying
    combinations. After ten minutes he was frustrated and angry, knowing there were a
    million possible combinations.
    The humiliating bottle of urine sat on the floor outside the crate. He wanted to
    take off the lid and spray the room with it, he was so irritated, but that would
    definitely make Sir mad. He was such a prissy fuck about everything being clean.
    His stomach growled. On top of everything else, he was hungry.
    Angel looked down at his cock, realizing how little time he had spent
    masturbating now that he had a man in his life. It had been his favorite pastime
    when Sven locked him in his bedroom, which he did frequently when Angel first
    went to live in Sven‟s house.

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    Gripping his cock with both hands, he massaged it up and down. His mind
    drifted back to the evening before. The incredible flogging, the finger fuck on the
    leather-topped table. He looked at the table, and the sensation of his prostate being
    rubbed returned, tingling through his cock, which rose and thickened in his hand.
    Angel let his thighs fall wide until he sat like his mom when she was doing her
    yoga. His head fell back against the bars of the cage, and he rubbed his cock fast.
    The friction was hot