Mon Secret De Mort

A group of people sat in a bar, listening to the live music of the night. Slow music flowed across the crowd, giving the bar a laid-back feeling. The group talked among themselves, with no real topic in mind. They were as laid back as the music, for whatever reason. Maybe it was just their personalities, or maybe it was something else.
These thoughts drifted through my mind as I watched them, lazily chatting away. I had been following them for some time, keeping an eye out for any kind of illegal activity, anything that I could use to bring them in. I had been hired to do this job by a very rich politician, who told me he’d pay double what I’d be paid in bounty. He had a particular target in mind: the leader of this happy group. Unfortunately, I had to wait until I had proof that he was criminal before I could arrest him. This was not an easy job, for many reasons. Even if he did do anything, which even I was beginning to doubt, he did it with such stealth that it was hard to get any kind of evidence. I had seen him associating with known drug dealers numerous times, but whatever he got from them left his hands as quickly as he acquired it. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought that he knew I was watching him.
I lifted my glass as the song ended, keeping my eyes on the group. The glass was empty, and as I set it on the counter, the bartender placed another drink in front of me. When I glanced questioningly at the glass, the bartender pointed to the table I had been watching, telling me that the man over there ordered it for me. I looked, and my target, Jaque De Mort turned around in his seat and smiled at me. I left my drink at the bar and strode over to him.
“Bonjour, mademoiselle.” The greeting sounded like an insult, “Would you like to join us?”
“I might as well.” I sat in the only vacant chair at the table. The rest of the group glared at me as if I were some kind of intruder. I could only assume that they knew who I was.
Jaque’s smile was still in front of me, letting me know that I had, in fact, been found out. “You did not bring your drink, should I be offended?”
“If I wanted to offend you, I’d tell you how fake your accent sounds.”
He laughed, and no one else did, “You are right,” The accent was gone, “I guess that’s what happens when a Frenchman spends his life in such a country as this.”
I kept watching him, not trusting him or any of his “friends.”
“What’s the matter, Danielle, do you not enjoy our company?”
“How long have you known?”
“That you were following me? A while now. I was wondering when you would get tired of my little charade and arrest me for spite.” That damn smile looked good on him, really brought out the twisted, psycho, drug addict he was.
I smiled in return, a kind of twisted, ironic smile, “So you were just playing a game. Fuck with the bounty hunter, have some fun.”
“Actually, I was calling it ‘performance art,’ but your suggestion sounds fun too.” His smile widened into a darker, more nefarious grin. I stood, and he stood as well, “Please,” He extended his hand, “Before you run off, one dance. Perhaps we’ll have a chance to chat.”
One glance at the rest of the gang told me that I probably didn’t have much of a choice. I was very outnumbered, “Sure.” I took his hand and he led me to an open space away from the table. We danced almost like grade-schoolers, with me trying to put as much space between us as possible.
“So what do you want?” I asked, very down-to-business.
“Exactly what we’re doing.” Replied my partner.
“Dancing?”
“That was my intention.”
“What do you mean? I’m supposed to be hunting you, not dancing with you.” I seriously thought this guy had lost it.
Jaque turned us so that I could see the table, “Do you see the man in the leather jacket?”
“The bald one? Yeah.”
“Picture him with a toupee and a business suit.”
I did, and gasped. He was the “rich man” who had hired me. Jaque De Mort had had me hired to hunt him! Why would he put a bounty on his own head? Now I really thought he was crazy, “You tricked me.”
“It was the only way I could think to be with you like this.”
“Did you ever think of asking me out?...And how did you even know me?”
“I had seen you with your friend before, the other bounty hunter. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to just saunter up and ask you if you’d go out with me.”
The friend he was referring to was Lani, a fairly new friend who was hunting a bounty head by the name of Damian. It dawned on me what the connection was. “Yeah, I could see how it would be awkward to ask out the friend of the person hunting your brother. But, why ask me out at all? Why go through all the trouble for someone you didn’t even know?”
Jaque shrugged, “Je ne sais pas.”
I looked into his green eyes, “You are cunning.” I leaned in closer, “and I have to admit, it’s charming.”
Jaque smiled down at me, his black hair brushing my face, “Je t’adore.”
Later that night we were climbing up the stairs to my apartment. I struggled to fit the key in the lock while he had his arms wrapped around me and his body pressed against me. My neighbors would have probably thought we were drunk, but we weren’t. What can I say, it’s difficult to concentrate when there’s an erection pressed against me. I finally got the door open, and we stumbled into my living room, hands everywhere. I managed to close the door, and we continued our lust-drunk dance into the bedroom. On the way, we managed to lose quite a few pieces of clothing. Jaque pressed me against the wall, kissing my neck.
“Tomorrow night,” He said softly, “We’ll go to my place.”