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HIS BABY: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance

Page 4

by April Lust


  “Just trying to pass the time,” Evan replied. “Must have been hard, though, being married to that guy. He’s not fun to hang out with.”

  “How would you know?” Hannah snapped. She knew she was stupid for ever being with Salvatore. She didn’t need some asshole hitman scolding her for her poor relationship choices. She should have run away years ago, really.

  “He would take us out for drinks sometimes,” Evan explained. He sounded unbothered by her harsh tone. Maybe he was getting used to it by now.

  “What, after a successful heist or murder or whatever?” Hannah asked. She felt weirdly curious. She was never allowed to know about stuff like this.

  “Yeah, or just on a random day. He’s the type of guy that likes to have an entourage around him, you know. He likes to be surrounded by guys…and women.”

  Hannah clenched her fingers tighter around the steering wheel, feeling all the blood in her body rush to her hands and feet. She knew Salvatore was a womanizer, but it still wasn’t fun to be reminded of it. Back in the day she thought he was just a flirt, one of those guys that enjoys talking to women without ever actually doing anything real. But it was more than that, obviously. Hannah felt so stupid for ever thinking otherwise. “Yeah, well, Salvatore is who he is,” Hannah finally said.

  “Which is a piece of shit,” Evan said. “I didn’t know he had a girl, you know, until a few days ago.”

  “Really?” Hannah asked. She looked in the rearview mirror to see Evan nod.

  “Yeah, he always had chicks around him, all the time. Used us to wingman for him, you know, get girls to talk to him and…go back to his room.”

  “What’s your fucking point?” Hannah finally snapped. Did Evan get off on making her feel embarrassed and hurt?

  “Just wondering if you knew,” Evan said.

  “Yeah, I knew,” Hannah admitted, feeling the burn of shame crawl up her back and neck.

  “And…so, were you okay with it, or what?” he asked.

  Hannah scoffed and laughed a little, shaking her head. “Uh, no, not so much. Just couldn’t get him to stop. After a few years, you figure, eh, what’s the point in trying?”

  “Is that…is that why you ran away?” Evan suggested.

  She shook her head again, biting her lip. She really didn’t want to talk about this, but the words still sat in her mouth, begging to be released. She’d never talked to anyone about it, ever. Hannah had no friends she could trust with the information. Salvatore had made sure of that, isolating her any way he could. “No, no, that’s not why,” she finally said. There was a long pause where neither of them said anything. “It’s not like I was all right with it or anything. But given everything else that Salvatore did, everything else that he was, it honestly doesn’t feel like that big of a deal in comparison.”

  “What do you mean? The crime shit?” Evan asked.

  “No, no, I never really knew what he was up to with that. I worried, you know, but I never got confirmation of anything. Till today,” she explained. She didn’t know why she was being so forthcoming with Evan. The guy had tried to kill her after all. But goddamn, it was such a relief to talk about it to someone, anyone, that it didn’t really matter that she was saying it to a killer. He was a captive audience and she was going to take advantage of that.

  “So, what, then? What made you run, knowing how dangerous it’d be?” Evan asked.

  Hannah bit the inside of her lip. Should she say it? She’d never said it out loud before, to anyone, ever. She’d never had the opportunity. But somehow she was keenly aware that if she said it, there was no going back. She could no longer bury it deep inside of her. It would be real.

  It’s already real, she told herself. You can run, but you can’t hide from it forever.

  “He, um, he got…physical, you know,” she said, trying as hard as she could to keep her voice steady and casual, like she wasn’t saying anything that really mattered.

  “What, like he hit you?” Evan asked from the back.

  Hannah swallowed, trying to dislodge the huge lump in her throat. “Yeah.” It was so simple, putting it that way. He hit her. That’s what happened. But it was more than that. It was more than just the physical wounds, as much as they might have hurt. For years, she lived in terror, afraid to say or do anything wrong that might set him off. He made me into a shell of a person, Hannah thought to herself. He made me shrink up inside myself. He made me weak.

  Evan was silent in the back. She wondered if he thought she was being dramatic. He was a killer, after all. Why should he care about some mobster knocking around his woman?

  ***

  Evan

  In all honesty, Evan didn’t know why he was so shocked. He made his living out of violence. His entire life was built around it. But…there was something about the mental image of Salvatore hitting Hannah that made his blood rush faster inside his veins. It was more than that, though. He felt sick to his stomach, like there was some giant insect inside of him fighting its way out. He felt…guilty. He actually felt like he was somehow responsible.

  Why do I give a fuck? Evan asked himself. He’d never felt guilty about anything he himself had actually done on the job. He never thought back on his targets and felt sad or sick about his actions. He never even thought about them at all.

  Rule number four of killing: let it go. Never look back.

  But right now, maybe because he was stuck in the back of this car, with nothing else to distract him, he couldn’t shake the image of Hannah, shrunken in and terrified, cowering below Salvatore. Evan’s heart pounded in his ears, his blood rushing so hard under his skin it hurt. “So, um, how long did that go on?” he asked.

  Hannah was quiet a moment, and Evan worried that he’d crossed a line he shouldn’t have, pushed too far into something that wasn’t his business at all. But then she cleared her throat and spoke again. “A long time. It’s…it’s hard to remember exactly when it started. But… for most of our relationship, yeah, he was hitting me.”

  Evan clenched his fists out of habit, his nails digging into the exposed skin around the duct tape. There were times when Salvatore would come into the bar where his lieutenants and hitmen gathered with open sores on his knuckles. Evan would notice them but not say anything. He just figured Salvatore had gotten into a bar fight to let off some steam. But maybe the whole time…the whole time he was pounding on Hannah. Again, a hot flash of guilt hit Evan right in the stomach. He felt like he might throw up.

  “The worst thing,” Hannah said in the front seat, but then she fell silent again. Evan didn’t know whether or not to verbally nudge her to finish the thought, but then she sighed deeply, heavily, like an old dog does. She’s seen a lot, Evan realized. More than I could imagine. He thought back to how surprised he was when she overcame him earlier with the frying pan. When did she learn to be that strong, that ruthless? Was it Salvatore? Evan wondered what Hannah had been like before her time with Salvatore—if she was ever a softer person, a simpler person. And again, he felt his stomach contract with the sick sensation of guilt.

  “The worst thing,” Hannah began again a minute later, “wasn’t that, though.”

  Evan was silent a moment, wondering if she was going to explain herself further. Eventually he decided to push a little. “What was the worst thing?”

  “He, um, you know, he hit me a lot. Scared me. You know how he is,” Hannah said. “I got used to it. I thought, this isn’t the life I want but it’s the one I’ve got. You know? I could put up with it. But I…” She cleared her throat again, but when she spoke again it was clear she was fighting off tears. “I made a promise that nothing would ever happen to Alex. He’d never have to grow up scared. So…you know, I really had no choice, did I? I had to run.”

  For a long moment, Evan didn’t understand. His mind couldn’t grasp the truth, maybe because it was too terrible to accept. No, no, it can’t be. He’s just a baby. Salvatore couldn’t have… “He…the baby?” Evan stuttered out.

  �
�Yeah,” Hannah replied. “He hit him.”

  “H-how?” Evan didn’t know why he couldn’t seem to keep his voice steady and confident. It was just impossible to wrap his mind around the truth.

  Hannah huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, I know, it seems ridiculous, right? Hitting a baby. But he did it. Alex was crying, you know, the way babies do. They cry, sometimes for no reason. Anyways, one night about a week and a half ago I couldn’t get him to calm down. Salvatore was furious. I think he had some shady deal to make in the morning or something. Anyway, he wanted his precious beauty sleep and Alex was getting in the way. He…he snatched Alex right out of my arms, took him over to the changing table...” Hannah trailed off. A second later Evan heard her sniffle a little. When she spoke again, it was through a clogged throat, like she was choking back sobs. “He, uh, he pinned Alex down and smacked him across the face.”

  Evan exhaled deeply. So there it was. That’s why she was so desperate to get away. That’s why she was willing to risk anything, do anything—to protect her son. “Wow.”

  “Yeah,” Hannah said in agreement. “Wow, right? I…I put up with his shit for years, but I never thought he was capable of that. I guess…I guess I thought maybe there’s a tiny piece of good in him, you know? Something to salvage. Something to hold onto. But there’s nothing. He’s just…a black hole of a person. He sucks in everything in sight and he doesn’t care whether or not he spits you out again.”

  Evan was at a loss for words. But no matter how shocked he was, he couldn’t shake the mental image. That sweet little baby, being hit by a grown man with considerable strength. “Is…is the baby okay?”

  “I think so,” Hannah whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of the car’s engine. “He seems fine, at least. If I had my way I’d have taken him to a doctor right away, but Salvatore would never allow it. I’ll have him checked out as soon as I can.”

  “When will that be?” Evan thought out loud.

  “I don’t know,” Hannah replied. “I really don’t know. I’m just…I’m fighting here, Evan.” He almost flinched at the sound of his name, but it sounded…nice, coming from her mouth. He hadn’t heard a woman say his real name in years. It made him feel a little warm inside, despite the circumstances. “I’m fighting really hard for my family. Can you understand that?”

  “I don’t know,” Evan responded honestly. He didn’t know if he could understand that. The only family he’d ever had fell apart when he was six years old, when his piece-of-shit father finally walked out once and for all. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much, to think about what Hannah went through, Evan realized.

  Salvatore sounded too much like his dad, pushing people around, controlling people, cheating on them. Evan swore, even as a little kid, that he’d never be in a position to let someone hurt him, ever again. He wondered if that’s how Hannah felt. Somehow that prospect made him feel cold inside, like all of his organs were transforming to ice. He didn’t want to see Hannah become what he was. He didn’t want her to become strong like him. He didn’t want her to be a killer.

  But maybe I can do it so she doesn’t have to, Evan thought.

  “Listen,” Evan began. “I know that you’ve got no fucking reason at all to trust me. I’m just a piece of shit hitman you’ve never seen before. But...I’m not going to betray you. I swear, I swear on my mother’s grave.”

  “Is she really dead?” Hannah asked, but her tone was humorous, almost teasing, like they were buddies on a road trip together instead of captor and hitman.

  Evan laughed, the feeling of it almost painful, like his throat wasn’t used to the sensation anymore. It had been so long since he’d laughed at anything honestly, instead of mocking people before he hurt them. “Yeah, she’s really dead, really fucking dead. I swear, okay? I don’t know what I can say to convince you. Maybe nothing I say can convince you, and I gotta just learn to live with that. But I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not like him.”

  “How…how can I believe that?” Hannah whispered.

  “Maybe you can’t believe it,” Evan said, just thinking out loud again. “I probably can’t convince you. All I can do is repeat myself. I’m not going to hurt you or your son. And I guess if you want to keep me tied up, I understand.”

  Hannah was silent for a long time. All Evan could make out was the sound of the back wheels scraping against the gravel of the highway.

  After several silent minutes, she finally spoke. “Do you believe me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “About Salvatore, do you believe me?” Hannah asked.

  Evan’s brow furrowed in confusion. Of course he believed her. Why wouldn’t he? “About him hitting you and the kid? Yeah, why not?”

  He heard Hannah exhale shakily, so heavily that he could hear it clearly even from the trunk. “I always…I always thought that everybody would take his side, you know? Maybe everybody else would, I don’t know. But I just thought…nobody would believe me, or if they did, nobody would care.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she cleared her throat again, clearly fighting against her emotions.

  Evan shifted a little, his left side going numb from lack of movement. “I care,” he said, his voice low and careful. It felt like he was walking a tightrope, suspended over an abyss, and if he made one wrong move he’d knock himself off forever. He needed to say this right. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to hurt Alex. I promise. I just want to live. Just like you,” he said softly. He realized after the words left his mouth that they were true. He believed them. He wasn’t going to betray her. He did care what happened to her.

  He felt sick, he felt guilty, he felt sad, he felt a thousand things he thought he’d shut off from his brain and his body forever. But more than anything, he felt angry. His stomach burned with it, acid bubbling up inside of him like a volcano. He wanted it gone. He wanted to exorcise all of this emotion the only way he knew how. He wanted to wrap his hands around Salvatore’s neck and squeeze and squeeze until there was no air left inside his miserable body. “I can help you,” he said. “I can…I can protect you both.”

  “How?” Hannah asked, her voice strained and thin. She sounded a little incredulous, but there was something else hiding in her voice. It took Evan a second to realize what it was. Hope.

  “Well,” Evan began, “for starters, I gotta have my hands free.”

  Hannah laughed, loud and full-throated. Evan twisted in the trunk to stare at the back of her seat, watching her throw her head back on the headrest. “Yeah, you’re right about that,” she said. “That might help, huh?”

  Evan found himself smiling for the first time in a long time. It almost hurt, using his facial muscles that way after letting them go unused for so long. But it felt good at the same time, warmth seeping down into his stomach, calming his nerves for the first time that day. He craned his neck to see out the backseat windows, watching the first purple streaks of dawn paint themselves across the early morning sky.

  “If I let you out of your restraints…” Hannah began, pausing to clear her throat again. “If I do that and you try something, I’ll leave you without a second thought. You understand?”

  Evan nodded before he remembered that she couldn’t see his face. “Yeah, yeah, that makes sense. I’d do the same thing.”

  Hannah laughed again. “I’m pretty sure you’d have killed me hours ago if you were in my position.”

  In any other situation, on any other day, Evan might have laughed at that, but now he felt a slight burn of heat climb up his back and shoulders and neck. Shame. He felt ashamed. Why? He’d always done his job without a second thought. What the hell was happening to him?

  “You’re right,” Evan said. “I would have. You’re better than me.” He thought he could see Hannah’s shoulders tense up in response to his words. “That’s why…that’s why you deserve to get out. You and your son, you need to get out of the country. And I’ll help you, I promise.”

  Again, Hannah kept hi
m on edge, taking a long pause before answering. Evan felt the car turn as she took an exit ramp off the highway. “If you try anything…”

  “I won’t blame you for whacking me so hard with the frying pan my brain turns to mush,” Evan suggested, causing Hannah to cackle so loudly that Alex whined in complaint.

  “I’m serious, though. You can’t say that I didn’t warn you,” she said.

  Evan tried to sit up in the trunk, thumping his head painfully on the roof of the car. “Fuck, ow.”

  “Sorry about that,” Hannah said, and her voice sounded legitimately apologetic.

  “It’s okay,” Evan said, offering her a smile that he hoped she could make out in the rearview mirror.

  A minute later, they rolled to a stop in an empty parking lot, just outside of an abandoned strip mall. Hannah parked and popped the trunk, quickly exiting the vehicle to walk around to Evan. Her hair was a tangled, frizzy mess, and her T-shirt stuck to her body, clearly slick with sweat despite the winter cold. She looked tired, worn-down, like the last several hours had drained the last little reserve of her energy.

 

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