Chapter 3

Skylar’s brain pounded against her skull and she feared it was perpetual. Warily, she eased the door open checking to ensure Austin had heeded her desire to have him to relinquish himself from her property. Peeking out, the corridor stood vacant. Skylar straightened her spine, rubbing at her temples as her mother strolled towards her. She rotated her shoulders back to hinder further knots from infecting her back muscles.

This was not how she expected to start her day. It had already gone awry with all of the emergencies generated by the double homicide of two kidnaped victims that had been missing for three days. The families of the deceased victims were in desperate need to have private autopsies done. Her day of working at home had been nipped in the bud, she was to get ready and report to the office as soon as practical.

The sudden visit from Austin Cyner had dampened the urgency in her soul to work and replaced it with an unrealistic urgency to pack up shop and migrate. It didn’t matter that she’d fought tooth and nail, through bankruptcy to help establish her very own practice.

"How much of that did you hear?" Skylar questioned without gazing at her mother, knowing that she’d been listening. The ruckus she and Austin made, the battered doors, the shouting…her mother would have heard it all.

All Skylar ever wanted was to give her mother peace in her final years but here she was stirring up trouble. She couldn’t help but feel worthless. This woman was the only parent she had left and within the space of a month, Skylar had become pregnant for a lunatic and coerced a trained assassin into their home as a direct result of her foolish decisions.

"Enough." Catherine took Skylar's hand in her own; unsure of whether the act was needed to calm her daughter’s racing pulse or her own. “Are you honestly considering abortion?” Her warm fingers caressed Skylar’s hand, turning it over to analyse the lines contained within her palm. Her mother’s hands were always warm, Skylar thought.

“Ma, you know I am not.” It was Skylar’s turn to grip her mother’s arm, bringing Catherine’s attention to her daughter’s fearless eyes and set jaw. Catherine regretted many things in her life, the unwavering guilt was allowing her late husband to drag their daughter into his life style. Dorian had painted a vibrant picture once Skylar was born. Their daughter would rely on no soul to offer her protection in a world that victimised and disregarded women.

Skylar mastered the skill of holding a knife far sooner than honing the skill to eat with utensils. Dorian had been the proudest of father’s, boasting that their daughter was on her way to becoming a legend in their circles. He wasn’t wrong. His words weren’t wistful musings of a doting father; it was pure fact. At age fifteen, Skylar was training with Tobias Lynne’s son and his protégé. Men that were six years her senior. Fascinatingly, Skylar had the men on their backsides more times than they dared to admit.

It all came crashing down the moment they received news of Dorian’s death. Skylar had been devastated. Catherine yanked her out of the agency and they had never wasted a glance back.

Skylar searched her mother’s starry gaze, waiting patiently for her to exit her deep thoughts. She held back her astonishment, unbelieving that her mother would think her capable of abortion. Not when her mother experienced a devastating miscarriage following Skylar’s father’s death. That was when Skylar had become determined to provide for her mother. Lena Taavon was a frail woman who’d married an assassin with the hope of a fairy-tale. For the most part it was. But the sad part of fairy-tales was that they were interwoven with the promise of impending tragedy. Theirs had come sooner than most.

As an unsuspecting side effect, Skylar couldn’t stomach the thought of aborting a child, regardless of its origin. The decision would slice open old wounds for both her and her mother. She’d never be able to look at her reflection.

“Then, are you planning to accept that man’s offer?” Catherine probed, she’d known all about Austin Cyner, well the twenty-two year old version of him anyway. Dorian had praised his abilities more than once over dinner. God, Catherine missed seeing that glint in his eyes when he rambled about something. Her husband had been a passionate man, which is saying a lot for a trained killer.

“I just threw him out, what part of that signals consensus?” Skylar regarded her mother with warm eyes. The proposal, if that could be called one, was preposterous to say the least. Whenever she got married Skylar always believed it would have been for love. Her feelings for Austin were barely moving on from sheer hatred to intolerable dislike.

“Better to marry someone you have a mutual friendship with.” Catherine turned on her heels and jutted down the corridor. It was twisted fate that this man plummeted back into their lives as Colin Meyers’ brother no less. Catherine guessed things could have been worse. There could be a complete stranger forcing his will upon them.

“Friendship?” Skylar was taken aback, taking off after her mother to say, “Mother, I detest the man and in case you missed it, he isn’t too crazy about me either.” Skylar followed Catherine into the kitchen. She headed straight for the sink and began washing the dishes.

“Do you prefer the child having a stable home which includes a mother and father or being juggled around from household to household?” Catherine kept her focus on her task, her voice steady, slightly elevated over the rushing movement of water from the taps. If that family wanted a relationship with the baby, Skylar would have no choice but to allow them visitation. Catherine couldn’t condone her daughter keeping a child away from its father or grandparents. Moreover, she would have preferred Austin Cyner to be the father than Colin Meyers.

“I lived without my father and I am just fine,” Skylar shrugged, “we are fine.” She added, leaning against the counter. Catherine clicked her tongue and shook her head. Her daughter had grown up to be a raging fanatic who thought independence meant disregarding the notion of reliance all together. But, everyone depended on someone for something.

“Agree to disagree.” Catherine replied, shutting of the water and proceeding to dry the droplets of the dishes. “The family may oppose you for custody.” She supplemented, waiting for her daughter to respond. It didn’t surprise her that Skylar boldly crossed her arms and smirked.

“Is that supposed to frighten me?” Skylar scoffed. The own father wouldn’t be interested in the birth of this child, why would any court see it fit to drag her child away on the whim of a half uncle and grandparents? Besides, if she had to disappear off the face of the earth to keep her child away from the Meyers family she would. It was either that or murder them, an option she hadn’t completely disregarded.

“The day I decide to get married, I’d prefer it to be with someone I actually care about.” Skylar had involuntarily slid her hand over her stomach. What were the chances of a man falling in love with a single mother? What were the chances of her wanting to allow strange men around her child? It seemed that the prospect of love was diminishing. If it did, she had no qualms being alone for the reminder of her life. She would provide that love and support to her child in the same way her mother had provided it for her.

“Love should frighten you.” Catherine packed away the final plate, dried her hands and caught her daughter’s gaze in a stronghold.

“I am not in love.” Skylar didn’t think it was necessary to remind her mother. After all, there had been no one worthy of bringing home in all the years she’d been dating. Men were simply light amusement for her to practice her flirting skills. What’s a former female assassin made to do? She’d been trained to use her sexuality to get what she wanted. Dating was just a make-shift training centre.

“That’s a blessing you’ve been overlooking.” Catherine patted Skylar’s hair. She hated seeing her daughter’s hair unbound; the strands were think and untameable. She resisted the urge to have Skylar planted down while she combed and tied her hair together into a sleek style.

Skylar scratched her head and bit down on her bottom lip to distract from her inability to form words—or a single coherent thought. Catherine must have sensed Skylar’s growing apprehension.

“Take it from someone who married for love,” Catherine’s tone had become firm, the muscles in her jaw twitching. “you’ll eventually lose him and it will cripple you, like it did me.” Her eyes infiltrated by pesky tears, to this day the thought of her husband brought tears to her eyes. The loss of him had damaged her ability to properly care for her daughter, leaving Skylar burdened from an early age to acquire success, “You’d have a better life with a man you feel mere respect and tolerance for. Love is chaotic and destructive. It robs you of your strength. ”