by Jen Davis
CHAPTER THREE
Tony didn’t grant himself the luxury of checking Callie’s expression before he jumped to his feet and positioned his body between hers and Lilah’s.
Pete’s girlfriend’s usually genial face pinched as he confronted her. If Tony hadn’t heard her voice, he might not have recognized her.
Puffy, purple skin painted half-moons beneath her bloodshot eyes. Her normally perky blond ponytail sagged and hanks of unwashed hair framed her face. Her clothes were rumpled, and the tracks of old mascara lined her cheeks.
He took her in as he acknowledged the man standing behind her. Donovan Holmes. Freelance security agent and one of the few independent operators unconcerned with staying on Agosto’s good side. Also, it seemed, the employer of Tony’s would-be assassin tonight.
If only Agosto’s text would’ve come a minute earlier, Tony might’ve had the chance to get Callie out of here before the cavalry arrived.
“What are you doing, Lilah?” Tony chided gently, spreading his arms wide. “It’s one crazy thing after another. Coming here? You’ve got to know Agosto is looking for you by now.”
“Fuck you, Tony. Don’t stand there and act like you’re my friend. If you’re here, Pete is dead, and you killed him.” She reached into the giant, lumpy purse hanging from her shoulder and pulled out a black Sig Sauer. “You ever lose someone you love? Maybe I should show you what it feels like.”
She leaned to the side, arching her neck to see around him. “She’s your girl, right?”
If he lunged for Lilah now, she might get one shot off, but it would hit him before it went anywhere near Callie. An acceptable risk…only Donovan now had a Glock in his hand. Fuck.
He’d have to negotiate. “Leave her out of this. She has nothing to do with anything.”
“Nice try,” she spat. “I remember her from that night. The night Bobby—” She flinched. “She was here with those obnoxious rich bitches having a bachelorette party. The bride was a real piece of work. Didn’t tip for shit.”
Donovan put a hand on her shoulder, but she shook it off. “I know I made a mistake when I went to the cops. I didn’t know what you guys were. But Pete said he was going to fix it, make it look like she did it.”
Her lower lip trembled. “But you had to be the shining knight in armor, right? You barely know this chick, and you chose her over a man you’ve worked with for years.” She shook her head, firmed her jaw. “The sad thing was, he knew it would happen. He said he saw it in your eyes, and when it came down to brass tacks, only one of you would walk away.”
Yeah. Pete had known the score. It had been written all over his face when they’d squared off outside the wedding.
“He left me Donovan’s number,” she continued. “Told me if I didn’t hear from him, my only chance was to take you out before you figured out the truth and tipped off Agosto.”
That explained his would-be killer in the alley, but Lilah had never really stood a chance. “Agosto’s known the truth for days.”
Her eyes widened.
“He’s the one who told me, before Pete ever showed up.” His boss was always one step ahead. “He’s got a guy inside the police department. Your name was on the report with your tip about Bobby.”
“You’re lying.”
“He made the report disappear.” He sighed. “The only thing left he has to do is make you disappear, too.”
Callie took in a sharp breath behind him, and he had to fight the instincts screaming to comfort her, to explain. Keeping them alive had to come first.
Lilah gripped her gun so tightly, her knuckles whitened, and her eyes flitted around the room, focusing on nothing, just moving side to side. “I’ll pay him. Bargain with him. There’s got to be a way out.”
The sympathy on Donovan’s face made it clear he knew how wrong she was. “You don’t have enough money to matter to a guy like Agosto Grimaldi, and you can’t bargain if you’ve got nothing he wants.”
“But I do have something. I have his man.” Her eyes narrowed at Tony. “Sounds like a bargain to me. Your life for mine.”
“He’ll never go for it.”
Donovan was right, but Tony kept his mouth shut. Every minute he got to live was an opportunity for escape.
“Listen to me, Lilah.” Unfortunately, the hired gun wasn’t giving up. “You’re paying me to protect you, and I’m telling you, your best bet is to run.”
“I’m not running.” She rubbed at her eyes. “Can’t you just—put them somewhere while I try to get this done? Pete said I could trust you.”
Donovan ran a hand through his reddish-brown hair, though he looked like he’d rather be pulling it out. “Fine. For the record, I think you’re making a huge mistake, but you’re the client.” He trained the gun on Tony. “C’mon, big guy. Let’s go.”
***
By the time Tony moved to follow the other man’s orders, Callie only caught a glimpse of the dirty blonde woman—Lilah, they’d called her—as she walked out the front door.
“You, too, sweetheart. Into the alley.” The auburn-haired guy in the long black coat—she couldn’t remember his name—gestured with his gun for her to move.
Tony grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him. Shell-shocked, she followed, down the hall, out the back exit, and into cold night air. The press of what she could only assume was a gun to the back of her head, stopped her just a few feet into the snow.
“Tony?” she whimpered. God, how the hell did she get to a place where she was pinning her hopes on a fucking hitman?
He turned on his heel and growled at the other man. “You don’t need to threaten her, Donovan. I’m cooperating.”
“Get in the back of the truck.”
Only then did she notice the box truck parked facing-out to the street. Tony hauled up the rolling back end and climbed inside. Donovan gave her a small push, and she scrambled up behind him.
A pair of handcuffs clanked down at her feet.
“Cuff him to the pole,” Donovan demanded. “Both hands.”
She looked around her bare surroundings. The pole Donovan gestured to was the only thing in the open space. It looked welded from the ceiling to floor in the far-right corner.
Tony walked straight to it and held still while she did as she was told. When she was done, he had a cuff on each wrist and the short chain between them wrapped around the pole.
Another set of manacles landed beside her. “Now do you.”
She stood opposite Tony and cuffed her own hands just below his, around waist level.
Donovan climbed in, and her heart crashed against her chest as he yanked the scarf from her neck and ripped it in half. He wedged one part in Tony’s mouth, tying the ends together at the back of his head, then did the same to her. The knitted fabric that felt so soft against her skin all day, now stung the corners of her mouth.
Without another word, Donovan hopped out of the truck and rolled down the door, plunging them into darkness. Only Tony’s hulking presence beside her kept her from losing her shit completely.
Tony, who had held her while they toured the streets of her hometown, who had danced with her at the wedding, who had made love to her with quiet intensity and gentle worship. Tony, who it seemed was a goddamn killer.
How? She tried to focus on his face in the dark, but the absence of light was too complete.
He rubbed his arm against hers, though, as if he felt the weight of her regard through the connection between them. Because there was a connection, even if the events of the past hour made it painfully clear that she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought.
Were hitmen really a thing? Sure, she’d seen them in the movies, but she couldn’t imagine Tony taking money to kill people. He was physically intimidating—not to her, of course, but the guy was tall, broad, and muscular. He also loved cooking, and he didn’t run from her crazy Aunt Bea. He’d told Callie he’d be with her forever. Or his note did.
His note, with his professions of feelings and
vague warnings. He’d also told her the first night that he couldn’t leave his job, a job he’d never explained other than the manufactured story he gave for his visit to Charleston. Where he’d killed some guy named Pete and triggered this chain of events.
He’d killed somebody.
She shivered.
Multiple somebodies.
So why the hell did she still want to curl up in his arms and trust him to slay the dragons?
Her heart insisted he would save her, but maybe he was one she needed saving from.
CHAPTER FOUR
Callie bit down on the gag as the truck came to a stop. They hadn’t gone far; the ride had been five minutes at most. Hopefully, this was just Donovan’s hiding place, not a secluded kill spot away from prying eyes.
The rollaway door sprang up, and an unfamiliar muscular man stomped in. He halted about three feet to her right and leveled a gun at her head. A few footsteps behind him, Donovan approached Tony.
“I’m going to unlock you, but no heroics, huh? Felix is a crack shot, and I’d hate to spend the rest of the night cleaning your lady’s brain off the side of the cargo hold. This is a rental, you know.”
Once Tony gave a brisk nod, Donovan uncuffed one hand and dragged him out by the bicep. The new guy did the same with her.
“Aw, you smell like sunshine, doll.”
Did he just sniff her hair?
When he pulled her out of the truck, she found herself in a small, dark warehouse, but he yanked her through so quickly, she couldn’t get a good look. They ended up in a small storage-type room, lit by a single, overhead bulb. Donovan was tying Tony down to a sturdy wooden chair.
“You like getting tied up?” Felix whispered in her ear, then pushed her roughly into a chair of her own.
“Oh, you’re a pretty one.” Stepping back, he gave her a better view of his face. About forty, with a scraggly beard and thin, brown hair.
He smiled, revealing his gray teeth, then touched her cheek with the barrel of his gun. Chuckling, he ran the cold metal down her neck and over her breast. “You’re like Christmas and my birthday all rolled up into one.”
Donovan shoved him aside. “I’ve told you before I don’t do business that way. If I have to tell you again, you won’t enjoy the lesson.”
Felix scowled and stomped away, muttering to himself.
Donovan took a fortifying breath, then tied Callie to her chair with efficient and economical motions. “I think we’ll know pretty quickly if Lilah has any luck with her proposal.” He untied her gag, and she rotated her jaw in relief. When he stepped aside, she realized the scarf was gone from Tony’s face as well.
“Enjoy your time together.” Donovan lifted his hand in a careless wave as he left the room.
Then, it was just her and Tony and so many questions, she didn’t know what to ask first.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. His expansive shoulders slumped, and his eyes trained on the floor.
“Tell me it’s not true.” Even as she asked, she knew she was only inviting a lie. “Tell me who you are.”
He laughed dully. “I’m not a good man. I’m definitely not Batman.”
“But you are a hitman.”
“Not exactly.” He finally met her eyes. “You’re better off not knowing the details.”
“Fuck you. You want to protect me now?” She strained against the rope, like she could bust out with rage alone. Pushing, wiggling, and squirming, she fought the bindings. The bindings won.
Spent, she drooped against them.
Tony said nothing. He sat there calmly, while her frenzy ran its course. No excuses or explanations, but his eyes held regret and resigned sadness.
No matter who or what he was, this man felt something for her. It was all over his face. And he’d tried to walk away, to keep her safe. Knowing all that, though, wasn’t enough. She needed the whole story, and they were way past the point where he could shield her with his silence.
She breathed in through her nose and out with her mouth. “I think that ship has sailed, don’t you? You might as well start talking.”
***
Just a couple of weeks ago, Tony had asked himself what could make a man reckless enough to risk his life and the life of someone he cared about by telling them about the organization. It had been while he was cleaning up the hit on a man who had done that very thing. Lorenzo had spilled his guts to his girlfriend about his job, and Tony had to spill his guts all over the floor of Agosto’s restaurant.
“I’m begging you. Please don’t push on me on this.” He’d die for her without hesitation, but the truth would put her in the crosshairs as well. “I can’t tell you what I do or who I work for, Callie. You don’t understand.”
She stomped her foot on the concrete floor. “What could be worse than this?”
“Dying,” he roared. “Here, you’ve got a chance. You’ve got me. I’ll do anything to get you out.” He softened his voice. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but it’s true.”
She pursed her lips. “You want me to trust you, but it goes both ways. Let me see you, Tony. I deserve to know the man I—” She swallowed. “I deserve to know who you are.”
She did.
It wasn’t fair to let her think he was someone normal and decent and to let her fall for some figment of a man he wished he could be. Honestly, Agosto would never let her live at this point, whether Tony kept his secrets or not. She’d seen too much.
He straightened as much as the ropes would allow. “My cousin tapped me into the organization when I was seventeen. That’s how people join—having someone vouch for you. It usually happens inside families because who else are you going to trust enough to risk your life, you know?”
She nodded.
“I was never good in school or anything. College wasn’t even on the radar, but Vincent was making money hand over fist. He had a nice car and a girl on each arm, and he promised me it could be my life too. I said yes before I knew what it would mean.”
It meant a lifetime in Agosto’s service.
“It started small. Money-runs here and there. By the time I was twenty, I was roughing people up. The first time I killed somebody, it was in self-defense.”
A knife had been coming for his throat, and he’d pushed the man wielding it out of a third-floor window. He wouldn’t have regretted it, if not for where it led. “After that, though, my boss started assigning me jobs he knew would end the same way.”
“And you couldn’t say no.”
He clenched his nearly-numb hands into fists and released them again. “I saw people try to get out. Saw them die for it. Saw everyone they ever loved, everyone they knew, die for it.”
“Are they all…like you? I mean, does everyone have to…”
“Kill?” he asked flatly. “No, but somebody has to. I could’ve tapped someone else to join, maybe have them do it in my place, but I’m never bringing anyone I care about into this life. I moved my parents out of here the first chance I got.” Hadn’t spoken to them in years. It was safer that way. “They run a sandwich shop in Philly now.”
“They’re safe.”
“No. No one is safe from Agosto unless they’re dead. I don’t have to look them in the eye, though, and maybe no one thinks of them right away when they want an opportunity to get to me.”
She shook her head, like the enormity of it all was seeping in a little at a time. “You can’t run.”
“There’s no escape. Agosto doesn’t leave any loose ends.”
“And I’m a loose end now.” Her voice shook.
It set his insides on fire. This smart, confident, amazing woman was shaking because his boss would see her as a loose-fucking-end. “You’re not going to die.” He knew it was the truth as soon as he said it. “I don’t care what it takes. I will get you out of this and away from here.”
He met her gaze. “I can’t promise you can go back to the life you had before, but you will have a life. I swear it.” Either he’d save her or die t
rying.
“You’d defy your boss.” She cocked her head. “He’ll kill you. Right? Why? Why would you do this?”
“You’re worth the risk.” Full stop. What was the point of walking around in this world if she wasn’t in it?
“I can’t go home,” she echoed. “I won’t tell anyone, though. I won’t bother anyone.”
“He knows where you live. He sent me there in the first place.”
“I don’t understand.”
Dammit. The one comfort in walking away from her was never having to see her face when she learned the truth. “My boss killed someone at the bar the night we met. Lilah, the woman from earlier, she tipped off the cops.”
Callie blinked rapidly. “She said something about her boyfriend. Pete.”
“Yeah. Pete knew Agosto would kill Lilah for ratting him out. He tried to make it look like you were the witness instead.”
Her pupils dilated. “They sent you to kill me.”
He nodded. “Pete wasn’t sure I’d go through with it. He came to kill you himself. I—stopped him.”
She sat with the news for a minute. “Would you have done it? Killed me?”
He tipped his neck back and stared at the ceiling. “I’ve been asking myself the same question for days.” He looked back at her. “No. Even if you had been the witness, I would’ve gotten you out. Maybe you would’ve hated me, but you would’ve been alive. Even if you hate me now, you will survive this.”
Any response she might have made was cut off by the door creaking open and Felix strolling in.
He ignored Tony entirely, walking straight to Callie’s side. “Miss me, doll?”
“Get. Away from her,” Tony growled.
Felix snickered. “You hear that, baby? Sounds like the dog is rattling his cage.” He cupped her breast…
…and Tony snapped.
He lurched to his feet, the chair an awkward, heavy burden strapped to his back. It didn’t matter. He threw himself at the other man, his body his only weapon.
Felix went down beneath him.
Tony slammed his head forward, breaking Felix’s nose with a satisfying crack.
“You’re going to pay for that, motherfucker.” Felix sprang to his feet, blood gushing down his chin, and he delivered a hard kick to Tony’s gut before he could gain his footing.