Lance: A Hitman Romance (Santa Espera #2)

by Harley Fox

  His smile curls downward into an ugly sneer.

  “You fucked all of them. You didn’t leave one for anybody else.”

  I don’t say anything, and neither does Katie. She doesn’t look at me. Jackson’s sneer somehow becomes uglier as he adds a smile to it.

  “Well … that’s just fine,” he says. “Because I’ve got a new plan now. I’m going to fuck this little shrink of yours,” he says, glancing at Katie again. “First I’m going to kill you, and then, you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to bend her right over this desk and I’m going to fuck her right in her little asshole. And trust me, lady, you’re going to like the way that I fuck. At least that way you’ll know what it’s like being with a real man right before you die-”

  BAM! My arm tenses to hold back the kick as my gun fires a bullet right at Jackson. Unfortunately either he was anticipating it or my aim was off, because it skims right by his head instead of blowing it apart. The bullet manages to hit the top of his ear, though, and I see the thin mix of skin and cartilage explode in a mist of red and white.

  “AH!” Jackson yells, lowering his weapon as he brings a hand to the side of his head. Katie shouts something and I don’t even give myself time to think. I start to run forward, right towards Jackson, but he sees me and swings his gun to me instead. I dodge out of the way just as he fires and I hear the plaster behind me crack as it takes the shot. I keep running and a second later my body collides with his.

  “Oomph!” is the noise he makes when I barrel into him. He flies back and lands on the ground, the wind being knocked out of him. His gun hits the ground and skids away as I land on top of him. Jackson lifts himself, though, the side of his head smeared with blood, and we grapple as I try to aim my gun at his head. But he’s strong, and he pushes my arm away, causing the shot to merely fire into the carpet instead.

  Behind me I hear Katie scream. Jackson keeps trying to force my gun away, while I keep trying to aim it at his head. He gets me with both hands and pushes my fingers closed, forcing the gun to fire shot after shot until I’m completely out of bullets. I yell with rage and bring my head down, cracking it dead on into Jackson’s.

  Jackson bellows with pain and twists his head to the side. But when I try to lift my gun to hit him, he keeps a hold on my hand and bends it back instead. Now it’s my turn to yell as I feel the gun tumble out of my grasp. Jackson uses the chance and shoves me to the side as he turns around, making a lunge for his gun, only six feet away.

  Luckily he lands just short of it and I grab onto him, pulling him back. He twists again and we end up rolling, with me on my back and Jackson on top of me. I pull my fist back and hammer it into his side, and then again under his armpit. But despite his grunts, he still manages to flip over and pin me to the ground. His eyes meet mine and they’re burning wild. The side of his head is matted with blood, his ear a gory mess. My fist swings up at him but he leans back, dodging my punch, before dropping both hands over my throat and crushing my windpipe in his grip.

  Immediately I find I can’t breathe. All of my offense goes into defense as I try to push him off of me, scrabbling at his hands, desperate for much-needed air. But Jackson leans his weight down and his smile widens as I feel my Adam’s apple being crushed. My face swells up with blood and Jackson’s eyes burn as he laughs, a cruel, heartless sound.

  “It’s time for you to die,” he says in between his laughs. “It’s time for you to die, you fucking piece of shit!”

  The world is starting to turn black. But up beyond him, appearing overhead, I see Katie come into view. She looks tall from this angle, and in her hands is a large, dark carving of an elephant — that paperweight off her desk. The tendons on her neck stand out as she lifts it up, and just as she blurs into nothingness I see the last vision of her bringing it down.

  CRACK!

  A sound like a block of ice splitting in two fills the room and an instant later Jackson’s body falls down onto me, his hands going limp, his weight pushing me down. I gasp deeply as I pull in air, making a terrible-sounding noise as Katie drops the heavy paperweight to the ground with a thud. Still sucking in air, I scramble to get Jackson off of me, disentangling his legs with mine. Coughing, swallowing against the pain, I pull myself to my feet.

  “Lance?” Katie says, but all my attention is on Jackson. He’s lying face down on the ground, and I hear a moan come out of him. Blood is seeping out of the back of his head. He tries to lift an arm and can’t.

  I look around, scanning the carpet for a moment before I spot it: Jackson’s gun. Breathing hard, I stumble over to it and bend down, picking it up.

  “Lance?” she says again.

  Blood is pounding in my ears as I walk back over to where Jackson is lying. He’s just starting to bend his legs, but all of his efforts will be in vain. Because Jackson is going to die right now. He lets out another moan and I smile as my finger slips over the trigger. I raise the gun, pointing it right at the back of this evil psycho’s head.

  “Lance!”

  Katie’s hands grab onto my arm and I stop for a moment, bringing my focus from Jackson to them. My mind feels like it’s blank. I follow them with my eyes, traveling up, until I land on her face, looking scared as she stares up into mine. Katie’s got tear stains on her cheeks but she’s looking right into me. And inside of my chest, my heart does a flutter.

  “Lance, don’t,” she says.

  Noises, from outside the windows. They sound familiar, but my brain is fuzzy and I can’t make them out.

  “Please, don’t kill him,” she says. “Please.”

  I open my mouth, my brain still trying to work. “What?”

  Katie purses her lips and looks down at Jackson. His moaning is coming on a little bit louder now, and he’s obviously struggling to get up. She then looks back at me.

  “Don’t kill him,” she says again. “I know he was going to kill both of us, but … just, please, don’t do it. For me.”

  “Katie,” I say, ignoring the pain in my throat. “If I don’t kill him, he’s going to come after me again. This isn’t going to stop unless I end it.”

  “Listen,” she says, and we’re both quiet as, beyond Jackson’s moans, those noises from outside get louder. My brain’s a little bit clearer, and they’re starting to make sense now.

  Police sirens. Someone must’ve called the cops. Judging by their distance, we only have a few minutes before they get here.

  “The police are coming,” Katie tells me. “They’re going to be here soon, and they can arrest him. He’ll go to jail. So you don’t have to kill him.”

  I stare into her eyes, the sirens getting louder as they mingle with Jackson’s sounds. When I look down at him again my upper lip curls.

  That piece of shit. He deserves to die. But he’s also fucked the cops over so many times that maybe a prison sentence would be better than a bullet to the head. I clench my jaw, then look back at Katie and nod.

  “Okay,” I say to her. “We’ll leave him for the cops.”

  A look of pure relief washes over Katie and I get the sudden urge to kiss her. But I hold back, shaking my head. This is no time for that, I tell myself. We have to get going.

  Tucking Jackson’s gun into my holster, I grab onto Katie’s hand and head for the door. But I haven’t taken two steps before she pulls her hand back, out of my grip.

  “Hey!” she says. “What are you doing?”

  I look back at her and she’s got a look on her face like I’m crazy.

  “I’m getting you out of here,” I say, and she widens her eyes.

  “What?” she says. “No. The police are coming, we have to explain to them what happened.”

  She doesn’t get it. I walk back to her and say, “Look. Maybe you don’t have any experience dealing with cops, but I do. They are not going to come in here and nicely ask you why someone is dead in the foyer and there’s a man moaning and crawling on the floor. If they find you here, like this, then they are going to arrest you and you a
re going to jail.”

  “But … I can explain to them what happened.”

  I shake my head. “Jackson’s not going to give himself up. He’ll testify against you. For all anyone knows, he was just in here looking for therapy. Then you attacked him.”

  Her lower lip quivers.

  “Won’t … won’t you back me up?”

  I snort out a laugh.

  “Sorry, baby. I’m outta here. So you can either stay here and hope they don’t shoot you on sight, or you can come with me. The choice is yours.”

  Katie stares at me, shaken. She looks around the room, at her bookcases, her desk. At Jackson’s moaning body on the floor. Outside the sirens cut off as car doors slam and angry-sounding voices fill the void. And then her hand, grabbing onto mine, and when I look at Katie her jaw is set and she gives me a nod.

  “Okay,” she says, determination in her eyes. “Let’s go.”

  Katie

  Lance looks at me and a glimmer of something like determination crosses over his face. Keeping my hand held in his, he turns to lead the way out of the office.

  Outside, I hear angry voices as we reach the door to the foyer, the moaning man — Jackson — still writhing on the ground behind us. Lance peers inside, then leads the way out.

  As we step in I look over and see Amin’s legs peeking out from behind his desk.

  “Oh God,” I gasp, and Lance gives me a tug.

  “There’s nothing we can do,” he says, forging the way ahead. “Just don’t think about it.”

  It’s hard not to stare as we pass him by, and my throat feels tight for a moment. But it’s not time for that and I swallow my sorrow as we reach the front door, Lance opening it up and peering out into the hall. A second passes and then he heads out, pulling me along in his wake.

  Turning in the opposite direction of the elevator, Lance moves quickly and I have to pick up my pace to keep up. Some doors down the hallway open up, and people poke their heads out.

  “Get back inside!” Lance shouts, and all the heads quickly disappear. He takes me to the end of the hall and around the corner just as we hear a ding of the elevator door, followed by the footsteps of many people, their stern voices barking important-sounding orders.

  Lance pastes us back against the wall, his arm stretched out across my chest. I see that he’s hardly breathing. I try to keep quiet but I’m certain my heartbeat can be heard throughout the entire floor. When the voices become muffled, Lance peers around the corner and brings his head back.

  “They’re in your office,” he says in a low voice. “Come on.”

  Grabbing my hand again and leading the way, Lance takes me farther down the hall, this time toward the stairs that lead to the back exit.

  “Do you even know where you’re going?” I ask in a hushed voice.

  “Yes,” Lance replies.

  “How?”

  “It’s my job, now be quiet.”

  We push through the door and move quickly down the stairs, reaching the main floor and the door leading to the outside.

  Lance holds me back while he quietly presses the bar on the door down, and pushes it open just a crack. I wait, my ears perked for any noise from up above. After a few seconds of looking around, Lance opens up the door casually and steps out. I follow.

  The sunshine is bright in my eyes compared to the dull light in the building. But there are no police officers around, and Lance moves with a casual grace as he follows the side of the building towards the front. When he reaches it he stops and peers around the corner, to where the parking lot is. Then he pulls his head back.

  “Fuck,” he breathes, and I sidle up to peer around too. He grabs onto my arm and gives his head a silent shake, but I yank it back and spare him an annoyed look before inching my head around.

  The parking lot is riddled with police. Four cars sit scattered about, and several officers are waiting outside, some talking into their radios, some merely watching the front door.

  When I pull my head back, I see Lance’s jaw is set.

  “You can’t go out there,” he whispers. “They know whose office they went to.”

  “So what’re we going to do?” I whisper back.

  “I’ll go get my car,” he says. “then I’ll drive back around and pick you up.”

  “You’re going to leave me?” I ask, fleeting panic running through me.

  “Just for a minute,” he says. “And then I’ll come and pick you up.”

  Before I can say anything else Lance pushes away from the wall and walks around the corner, as natural as can be. I keep myself hidden and watch him. Lance walks towards the parking lot, looking around, seemingly curious. When he reaches the closest police officer he asks a question and the officer answers. Lance nods, and then points to his car. The officer nods and Lance says something, then carries on.

  I’m flabbergasted. How can he keep calm in such a crazy situation? I would be a nervous wreck trying to do something like that.

  I watch as Lance reaches a black sedan with tinted windows — nothing flashy, just a normal car — and unlocks the door before getting in. He turns on the car, pulls forward out of the parking spot, and then turns toward the road. When the traffic is clear, he puts on his blinker and turns away, driving in the opposite direction from where I’m standing. My heartbeat picks up as I see his car dwindle away. He approaches an intersection and turns again, this time disappearing from view. And that’s it, he’s gone.

  I pull back and lean against the wall again. I’m pretty sure my jaw is hanging open, but I don’t care.

  He left me. Just like that, he left me. I trusted him. I thought he was going to come over to pick me up, but instead he decided to save himself and simply drive away, leaving me where I am. I feel alone. Utterly alone. I try to organize my thoughts and tell myself not to panic, but as the seconds tick away I’m finding it harder and harder to do.

  And then, off to the side, I see a black sedan turn onto the street off in the distance. My heart jumps. I watch the car get closer, driving at a normal speed, before slowing down and stopping at the side of the road.

  I push away from the building and walk towards the car, trying to keep my pace as normal and natural as Lance had done. When I approach the passenger’s side door I get in, and the moment the door is closed Lance puts on his blinker and does a U-turn, going back the way he came.

  “Jesus,” I finally say, letting it all out in a breath. Lance doesn’t say anything as we drive along this back street, and now that I have a chance to organize my thoughts, everything that just happened starts to dawn on me. My eyes burn with the pinpricks of tears. “Jesus, Lance. Amin is dead,” I say. “That guy … he just killed him. Just for no reason.”

  I blink and two tears run down my face as Lance says, “Jackson is a maniac. It’ll be good to see him behind bars.”

  I let out a silent sob, struggling to hold it back. But it’s so overwhelming now that it’s all behind us. Amin, my office, the fight and knocking that man out. Another sob and more tears.

  “Can you drive me home, please?” I ask in a quivering voice. “I live on Clarington. It’s about half a dozen blocks just west of here-”

  “No,” Lance cuts me off, and I pull in a stuttering breath, looking at him.

  “What?”

  I wipe the tears away and see no emotion on Lance’s face. He’s merely watching the road, driving us away.

  “I said no,” he repeats. “We’re not going to your house.”

  “Wh … What?” I say. “Then where are we going?”

  “First I need to pick up some supplies. And then you and I are going to hide until I can figure out what to do next.”

  “Wh … wait, what?” I say again, raising my voice now. The tears have been forgotten and are making way for incredulity. “What do you mean, going to hide?”

  “What does it sound like?” Lance flashes me a look. “We’re going somewhere to lay low for a while. Until I can figure out what’s next.”

/>   “I’ll tell you what’s next,” I say. “You are going to drive me to my house, and there you’re going to drop me off. And then you and I are never going to see each other again.”

  “Listen,” Lance snaps. “Maybe you don’t fully appreciate the situation we’re in, but I do. Somebody I work with just came into your office and tried to kill me. It’s going to become apparent when this makes the news — which it’s going to, by the way — that I’m not dead, and when that happens Gil is going to try to track me down and kill me again. He won’t stop, you understand? He’ll get to Jackson somehow, who’s going to identify you, and then they’re going to come after you too. If I leave you alone then you’re in more danger than if I’m here to protect you. So, you’re coming with me.”

  I’m speechless. I blink, not knowing what to say. I’m in danger? I’ve never been in danger before. And all for something that I didn’t even do.

  “Why are they after you?” I ask him.

  Lance clenches his jaw as his hands tighten on the wheel.

  “Gil wanted me to do something,” he says in a growl of a voice. “And I didn’t do it for him.”

  “What did he want you to do?”

  A beat of silence. And then, “He wanted me to kill a baby.”

  I blink.

  “Kill … a baby?” I repeat, and Lance nods. I look out the windshield as our surroundings pass slowly by us. “Jesus Christ.”

  “Jesus Christ is right,” he says. “Which is why, now, I need to get supplies. Like I said, Gil has been getting crazy lately. Bad crazy. I have to think of a way to stop him before he hurts anybody else.”

  I swallow. This is too much. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want any of this when I agreed to see Lance.

  “No,” I hear myself saying, and Lance glances at me before returning back to the road. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to be a part of this.”

  “Listen, Katie-” he begins, but I cut him off.

  “Do not … call me that,” I say. “I told you, we are nothing more than doctor and patient. And don’t think I’ve forgotten what just happened between us half an hour ago.” I see the corner of Lance’s mouth rise up and I glare. “If you hadn’t … pushed yourself on me like that, then none of this would have happened and Amin would still be alive.”