Witness Protection

by Stacey Espino

  “My father’s gone. That puts me in charge. I was his only child.”

  He lit up a cigarette, savoring his first drag as he examined the girl. She was twenty-four. And looked nothing like her father.

  “You’re not the one who put a hit on me. You were with me all night. There’s someone else. Was it lover boy up in the penthouse suite?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend. And you shouldn’t smoke. It’s bad for your health.”

  He exhaled, leaning over the table. “You’re bad for my health.”

  The room was quiet. He sipped his coffee, going through his plan on getting them out of the hotel. He’d have to call in some favors. Antonio Baretti was head of a bigtime mafia family with a huge reach in the city. Cayden was a lone wolf.

  “My father kept me locked up for my safety. He said men in his business with loved ones were fools. They were easy to exploit.”

  He set his mug down with force. “You referring to me, sweetheart? You think I fucked up by having people in my life I cared about?”

  She shrugged.

  “I did everything right. No family. No woman. They weren’t killed because of me. But that didn’t make it any easier.”

  “This is still revenge. When you love someone, it makes you weak,” she said.

  He grit his teeth. “And you’re cold as ice, aren’t you, princess?”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “You’re the Morenov princess, no? Or wait, you’re the queen now, aren’t you? You call the shots.”

  She glared at him, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead and buried. “I have nothing to do with my father’s business, and I have no interest in starting.”

  “What do you want then?”

  She paused, her mouth opening, but no words came out. Then she answered. “Love.”

  Twenty years ago, he probably felt the same way.

  But Cayden had given up on love a long time ago.

  ****

  She wasn’t sure how long he was gone, but Sophia heard the moment he came back in the suite. Her breathing picked up, but not from fear. There was something dark and brooding about her captor. He’d killed her father, so she should hate him. She did hate him. But there was more. She could see the hurt in his eyes and hear it in his voice because his pain reflected her own.

  He pushed open the en-suite bathroom door. “Get up.”

  He’d cuffed her and left for about twenty minutes. Now he was back carrying a plastic bag from a pharmacy. He slid off his jacket, tossing it on the other end of the long double vanity, then began opening a box. She couldn’t see with his wide back blocking her view. It smelled like chemicals. Her nerves picked up as she wondered what he planned to do to her.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “You want to know the name of the man who killed your father?”

  “Yes.”

  He did a sideways glance towards her. “Cayden.” She was shocked to get an answer from him. His voice was deep, and he never rushed his words. He reached in his pocket for the keys to the cuffs and released her wrists. “Take off the shirt.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What for? You told me to wear it.”

  “I don’t want it to get wet. Lose the shirt for now.”

  Sophia tugged it off, leaving her in her original t-shirt, and waited. Her arms were all scratched up from the porcelain shards. He patted the toilet seat, so she sat on it as instructed. Was he going to torture her? He was too good looking to be this evil. Then again, she’d never known a good man.

  He draped a towel around her shoulders, then stood behind her, pulling her long hair free. When he ran his hands over her hair, his fingers smoothing out the knots, she tensed.

  It shouldn’t feel this good.

  “Don’t move. Unless you want this shit in your eyes.” She heard a squirting sound and then cool liquid spilled on the top of her head.

  “What is that?”

  “They’ll be looking for a blonde chick,” he said. “You’re about to go brunette.”

  She reached up and touched the top of her head, then looked at her fingertips. “Black? You’re dyeing my hair black?” Sophia shouted the words.

  “Relax. It’s temporary color. You’ll be back to your beautiful self in…” He leaned over to read the box on the counter. “Three to five washes.”

  He massaged her scalp with his strong fingers, gathering up her hair, coating it all in the sticky black dye. The smell made her eyes water. But she could only focus on the fact he’d called her beautiful, and he sounded like he meant it. Stupid to even feel flattered.

  The man was a murderer.

  Every man she knew was a murderer.

  Her life was more fucked up than she realized.

  “Okay, over the sink.” He washed out her hair in the oversized bowl sink, the water turning black as it swirled down the drain. When he turned the water off, she wrapped the towel around her hair, scared to see herself in the mirror.

  She removed the towel shortly after, her long blonde hair now deep black. The reflection didn’t look like her. But she always did feel lost in her own skin.

  Cayden used his thumb to remove a smear of dye from her temple. “It brings out your eyes,” he said. She looked like a witch. He tilted her chin up, taking a good look at her new disguise. “Why don’t you have blue eyes?”

  She swallowed hard, her head still tilted upwards. Her father had blue eyes, but she took after her mother’s dark brown. It bothered her that she didn’t even have a picture, like her mother never even existed, but her father assured Sophia she was the spitting image of the woman she never met. It was the reason he turned on her when she’d matured. “I take after my mother.”

  “I never found anything on a Mrs. Morenov. She in hiding or dead?”

  “You’re blunt.” She stepped back, twisting her head from side to side in front of the mirror. “I never met her. She died when I was a baby.”

  “Childbirth?”

  “She was murdered. My father raised me.”

  He hopped up and sat on the counter. “Being an orphan isn’t as bad as it sounds. Trust me, parents are overrated.”

  She ground her teeth. He couldn’t make that argument when he was the one to make her an orphan. “You kill your parents, too?”

  Cayden wet his lips, stared at her for a few tense breaths, then left the room. He called back. “Put the shirt back on and dry your hair. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

  Sophia leaned over the counter and stared at the stranger in the mirror. What was going to happen? Was Hawk looking for her? Was Cayden going to kill her?

  Hawk had believed she was in danger. He said a hitman never left a witness alive as a rule. No matter how calm and human Cayden appeared, she knew for a fact that men in her world could turn their emotions off and do the vilest things imaginable. Trust was for the weak.

  Once she’d blow dried her hair and freshened up, she joined Cayden in the kitchen. He was ready to go, his duffel bag already slung over his shoulder, his dark hair slicked loosely back.

  “As of right now, we’re a nice happy couple. No making eye contact with anyone. We just need to make it to my car in the sublevel. Understand?”

  “And if I break the rules?”

  He glared at her, the devil in his blue eyes. “Do you really want to test me?”

  She kept quiet.

  As soon as they were in the hall, she could taste freedom. Surely, he wouldn’t make a scene if she made a break for it in the busy lobby. He held her hand, a little too tightly, as they walked to the elevator.

  This time she paid attention.

  They were on the ninth floor.

  The elevator opened with a chime and one businessman stood in the corner. Cayden squeezed her hand harder, making her cringe, and tugged her close to his side. She hadn’t realized how tall he was, so close in size to Hawk. If only Hawk was there now, her rock, he’d kill Cayden without a second thought and keep her safe.

  She wa
s tempted to meet eyes with the man from one of the mirrored panels. Would she be able to signal him? Would he even be able to protect her from a trained hitman? She’d probably just get him killed.

  The elevator stopped on the third floor, and a tall woman with a red suitcase on wheels joined them. The clickety-clack of her luggage came to a rest as she settled near the far panel, facing them. Sophia was sure the woman could read her mind, hear her screaming for help even though her lips hadn’t moved. If only she could make eye contact…

  Cayden must have sensed her thoughts, or felt the growing tension, because he reached around and grabbed her ass, pulling her tight to his body. With his free hand, he cupped the back of her head and kissed her hard on the mouth. He had the faint taste of cigarettes and mint gum, but it was the brutal way he possessed her mouth that left her spineless in his arms.

  The elevator kept dinging, but she didn’t care. Her eyes were closed, her mind a million miles away. When he finally pulled away from her, she was speechless and stunned. She turned around—the elevator was empty, and they were on the parking level.

  There would be no chance to make a scene in the lobby.

  He grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s go. Almost there now.”

  She touched her lips as they rushed through the lonely parking level. How could he not be affected by that kiss? What the hell was happening?

  Her father had kept her locked up like Rapunzel in a tower, so she had no experience with men, even at twenty-four. She wasn’t good at reading people and had no street smarts or social skills. Her expertise was in university texts, painting, and the ins and outs of life in a fucked-up crime family. She was numb to killing, death, and weapons, but a simple kiss had managed to unravel her.

  It was only her second kiss.

  She licked her lips, trying to compare the gentle kiss from Hawk and the demanding one from Cayden. They were both perfect, leaving her raw and aching for more.

  He pushed his fob, and a car dinged, the lights flashing briefly. Cayden opened the passenger door, moved some things off the seat, then motioned for her to sit. Were those bloodstains? He rummaged in the trunk before sitting in the driver’s seat.

  “Where we going?” she asked.

  Cayden didn’t answer her.

  He started the engine and reversed out of the parking spot, paid at the exit, and then they were gone. Driving farther and farther away from the hotel, and Hawk, and everything she knew.

  Chapter Six

  Hawk rewound the security footage again, zooming in on Sophia and Cayden Walsh. They were only visible for seconds, exiting the elevator and leaving through the parking doors on the lower level. The bastard had his hand on her. And he’d changed her hair. Her gorgeous blonde hair was now pitch black, or maybe it was a wig. Hawk almost hadn’t noticed them. It was Cayden’s neck tattoo that caught his attention.

  He slammed his fist down on the desk, the pens and papers jumping “Look at her, Vlad. Look what’s he’s done to her.” The older man braced a hand on the back of his chair, watching the screens as Hawk played the clip again and again. “He’s going to pay for this.”

  “Antonio’s men will find him. It’s what they do,” said Vlad.

  Hawk shook his head. “Why are they wasting their time and resources to find Sophia? Just to make peace? With who? It’s not like the Baretti family to go out of their way if they aren’t getting paid.”

  “Maybe they’ve changed their ways. Death can change a person.”

  He scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t like any of this. Vasily didn’t raise me to be a fool.” He tapped his fingers on the desk. He hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. He was too strung out, his mind scattered. “I have no idea where he’s taken her.”

  “If he hasn’t killed her yet, that’s a good sign. As long as he’s using her as a hostage, we have a chance to get her back alive.”

  Alive was one thing, but there was a lot a man could do to a woman and still leave her breathing. Hawk didn’t even want to think about anything happening to his girl. The poor thing just lost her father, and now he’d let her down. He should have stayed with her and watched that damn movie, but he’d been weak—she alone made him weak.

  He stood up and rolled out his shoulders. The security guard was still out cold, hunched over in the corner. He’d been lucky just to get pistol-whipped.

  No sleep.

  Sophia missing.

  Hawk was going to crash hard.

  He didn’t trust the Baretti family, and one of his informants said a bigtime gang leader wanted Sophia dead. He was waiting on more information. So now there was a price on her head. Didn’t they realize she wasn’t a player? With Vasily dead, his empire died along with him. Hawk had no intention of running the business, and he knew Sophia wanted nothing to do with it, and she never had. Why couldn’t they all celebrate that their biggest rival was out of the picture and leave them the fuck alone?

  “I’ve already done what I can. That fucker uses a credit card or shows his face in any public place, I’ll know. I’m going to get a drink, and then I’m getting some sleep. I’m no good with my head in the clouds.”

  “Yes, rest. Call me when you find out anything,” said Vlad.

  He nodded. “You still staying at the house?”

  “We wouldn’t want looters.”

  “Spread the word that Sophia isn’t taking over the business. This power struggle is going way too far. Vasily’s barely been dead a week, and the vultures are coming from every corner of the city.” Hawk adjusted his jacket, then left the security office, looking both ways in the hallway before heading to the emergency door at the back of the hotel.

  He walked down the strip, looking for the first bar he could find. Hawk occasionally used alcohol as a vice, but he preferred the gym. Right now, with Sophia gone, he needed to forget it all. There was nothing more he could do until Cayden made a mistake … and he would.

  It was just a matter of time.

  After entering a dive bar, he found an empty stool at the counter and pulled out his cell. He ordered his first two drinks and called his informant. The place was noisy enough that no one would hear or give a shit about his conversation.

  “Anything new on the hit?”

  “Dollar amount just went up. Three million. Dead or alive,” said Danny, one of his long-time informants.

  “Why do they care about Vasily’s daughter? She’s not in the business,” he said.

  Cayden wasn’t his only problem. Sophia was a shining target to every power-hungry bastard in the city. He knew of at least one credible contract for her life.

  “She’s the heir to an empire. That’s a threat to a lot of dangerous people. So far, it seems only one has made a move.”

  “Send me the name of whoever put out the hit. If you don’t know, find out,” said Hawk. He put his phone in his breast pocket and swallowed the glass of mind-numbing alcohol, then the second. He tapped the counter for a refill, already feeling the burn all the way to his stomach.

  Protecting Sophia was going to be a full-time job. If he got her back, it still wouldn’t be over. Would they ever be in the clear? It didn’t matter to him. He wanted to be her protector, and a hell of a lot more. Hawk needed to drink enough to dull his desires, to strip away every nasty thought in his head.

  Sophia was his ward, not his woman.

  Her father had entrusted her care to him, when no other man would do. That responsibility meant a lot to Hawk. The Morenov patriarch had saved him, given him a second chance at life.

  He didn’t deserve the honor. Vasily should have looked the other way.

  ****

  Cayden hadn’t been out to this end of the city in ages. He owned a few properties, but this one was the shittiest of them all. He bought the abandoned warehouse eight years ago to use as his headquarters when he was hired for a series of elaborate hits. He’d transformed the basement into a makeshift apartment, and he’d lived there for months. He still came by once in a
while when he needed to ghost for a few days.

  Before heading on the highway, he’d blindfolded Sophia. He didn’t need her knowing any more about him than she did. His home had already been infiltrated and knowing that prick had been in his personal space rubbed him wrong. He still wasn’t sure how he’d been tracked. Vasily’s right-hand man was next on his shit list. He’d kill the bastard for free, just for putting him through this runaround.

  He pulled up to the warehouse, the gravel drive crunching under his tires as he did a slow crawl. No sign of intruders, no cars, no life for miles. Many of the small square window panels had been broken, the big, industrial building an eyesore with the cityscape in the distance.

  Cayden cut the engine and walked around to the passenger side.

  Last time he came here, Frank Almeida had been alive. Now he was babysitting the daughter of his murderer. If there was a woman he should hate, it was Sophia Morenov.

  Randy had been right, of course. This bitch wouldn’t think twice about signing his death warrant. She’d probably been dreaming about it since witnessing her father’s death. But that wasn’t his fucking problem—an eye for an eye worked just fine for him.

  “Get out.”

  She touched her blindfold. “Can I take this off?”

  “No, leave it on.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her along. She stumbled on the uneven drive, letting out little gasps each time she thought she might fall.

  He liked to fly solo, and this dead weight had not been a part of his plan. Maybe he should make a fucking statement and send lover boy one of her fingers each week. That would put him in his place. Hawk wouldn’t want his prize once Cayden fucked her up enough.

  He unlocked the door and turned off the security system, punching in his code before locking the door again. The main level was littered with old lumber and broken machinery. Even squatters would find another place to sleep after looking at this shithole. He imagined it was once a thriving factory, but now it was just a relic from a time long past.

  The lone door at the back led to the basement and his private domain. He unlocked the door, this one more heavily fortified, and flicked on the lights. Cayden led her down the narrow staircase, and she wrapped herself around his arm in fear of falling. When they got to the bottom, he tugged off her blindfold. Nothing in the basement would give away their location. And she wasn’t going anywhere.