Free Assassin Treasure (Assassins Book 4) by C.L. Scholey Page B

violently shaking body. She was terrified, wishing she’d fall unconscious again. Candy buried her face in her hands to hide.
    I wish I was home.
    * * * *
    Dirk could hear her small whimpers. When her hands covered her face, he frowned in thought. She pulled into a tight ball. He could barely make out the telltale clicking of her teeth. It would be tricky keeping her frightened sufficiently without causing her to faint again. It would serve him no purpose to terrorize her into a babbling lunatic. She had no choice but to do as he commanded. His father would demand no less. But now she was shaking so badly in front of him he was surprised she hadn’t fallen off the couch. Dirk could tell she was on the verge of more hysterics, he wasn’t in the mood to deal with female theatrics, and he didn’t want to lock her up.
    Damien was right. He could send for someone to come here to watch her, but Candy was Dirk’s problem. She was also incredibly beautiful. One call to his father from any sent to watch her and his father would take matters into his own hands. The Iron Hand prided himself in taking care of problems. With Carrie due any day, Dirk didn’t want to waste any time waiting for a replacement, and he didn’t want to be worried what would happen to Candy while he was away. Times like these Dirk wished for a punching bag, his brain was being beaten up with thoughts.
    Fuck me.
    He was wishing for the hundredth time it had been a man who had seen Damien off Darren, then he could just beat the shit out of him until he was too terrified to say a word. Threatening to remove a few vital body parts worked wonders. It would have been so much less hassle. Dirk sighed heavily with his thoughts. He realized his thoughts were unrealistic; man or woman, he’d be dealing with the same shit. This deliberating was getting him nowhere. In the meantime, the little thing shuddering in front of him looked like she was ready to drop dead in terror. Damien might be right—Dirk had a way with women, a bad way at the moment. Perhaps if he could keep her busy.
    “Can you cook?” Dirk asked her suddenly on a hopeful note when his gut growled. He had an idea. Candy looked up at him with some surprise and nodded. “Then come with me.”
    He led her from the living room into a large kitchen. She glanced about curiously as he pulled plates and glasses from the cupboards and items from the refrigerator. From a drawer he removed cutlery. He flicked the switch on the coffee maker.
    “I’m fucking starved. Can you make lasagna?” Dirk asked.
    He pulled a large casserole dish down from a top cupboard. Frowning, he blew at the dust that had settled on the bottom of the pan and handed it to her. He’d purchased the ingredients for lasagna, wondering if between him and Damien they could struggle to put together a decent meal. Though it was unlikely, neither was in possession of culinary skills, but he despised the frozen kind and detested TV dinners. Admittedly he was spoiled; he almost never had to cook for himself. He’d been impressed he remembered what ingredients to buy, at least he hoped he got them all, yet it was his favorite dinner and eaten enough. The last person to cook anything for him at his halfway point had been Carrie.
    Candy nodded up at him, her dark brown eyes filled with sadness. Dirk regarded her with a steady gaze. He noticed she had yet to speak. Her face was pale, her jaw still quivered.
    “I won’t hurt you, Candy,” he said, trailing his finger down her smooth cheek. He knew his words from before had been brutal, but he’d been truthful, his father would demand her obedience. Her hands were shaking, and he took the casserole dish from her, placing it into the sink.
    “I don’t want to be disposed of , like I’m no more than garbage,” Candy cried suddenly.
    Her head slumped. One arm rose to shield her eyes from him. She was trembling and looked so frightened and alone he was moved to pull her into his embrace,