Lance: A Hitman Romance (Santa Espera #2)

by Harley Fox

  Some men exchange glances but nobody says anything. Gil sits down in the chair at his desk and rummages through one of the drawers, then takes out a small vial and proceeds to tap some white powder onto his desk. As he grabs a credit card and starts cutting it up, Jackson saunters over to me.

  “So, sweet cheeks,” he says, the first time he’s talked to me since I got here. “Happy to see me again?”

  I grimace behind the tape and make a retching noise with my throat. Jackson’s smile washes from his face.

  “You know, I’d watch that attitude if I were you,” he snarls to me. “Because once we kill Lance there ain’t gonna be anyone here to protect you. And I still mean to get me a piece of that hair pie. In fact, I may just keep you in the chair while I do. I like you better this way.”

  “Mmf fmm mm ffmffm fmm,” I say. Jackson gives me a look.

  “What?” he asks, so I repeat it. Jackson’s eyes narrow, but then Willy comes up behind him.

  “Look, buddy,” he says, causing Jackson to turn around. “You can’t possibly expect to understand her with this thing on her mouth.”

  Willy reaches down and peels the tape from my lips. It stings my face, but once it’s off at least it’s easier to breathe.

  “Ah, thank you,” I say to Willy. Then, turning to Jackson, “I said, I like you better dead.”

  Anger flashes across Jackson’s features and he raises a hand.

  “You fucking-”

  But Willy’s fast, and he grabs a hold of Jackson before he can do anything to me.

  “Let go of me, you Aussie cunt!” Jackson yells, struggling.

  “Hey!” comes Gil’s voice, and both Jackson and Willy look over. Gil’s face looks sweaty, and the white powder is gone. “You two! Stop that. Don’t hurt her before Lance gets here. Jackson! Come here, I need to talk to you.”

  Wrenching his hand from Willy and giving me one last dirty look, Jackson stalks away leaving Willy and I alone. Willy turns and looks out over the room.

  “Sorry about that,” he says in a low voice. “He never should’ve been let loose in public.”

  “It’s okay,” I say. Willy looks down at me, and he gives me another apologetic look.

  “I’m Willy,” he says. “Lance and I are friends. I don’t know if he mentioned me …”

  I nod. “He did. And I could tell who you are. You’re the only one here who doesn’t look like an idiot.”

  Willy suppresses a smile, but then it fades again.

  “I’m the one who told him to go see you,” he says, shaking his head. “This … you being here, this is all my fault.”

  “No, hey,” I say to him. “This isn’t your fault. It’s nobody’s fault but his.” I look over at Gil, who’s speaking in a low voice to Jackson. Willy sees them and nods.

  “Lance is in danger,” he says, and my heart plummets in my chest.

  “I know. I only hope he realizes it’s a trap.”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt he does. It’s just that there aren’t many ways out of here. And he’s a bit outnumbered.”

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  Willy tilts his head. “I’m not sure. If — when — the shooting starts, I’ll try to protect you. Lance is quick on the draw, and I might be able to take a few out myself. But it’s Jackson I’m really worried about. He’s the one who’ll give Lance a run for his money. Once he starts shooting, I don’t doubt-”

  “Willy!” We both look over to see Gil staring at us. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m just telling this one to keep her mouth shut,” Willy says. Gil narrows his eyes for a moment.

  “Come here. I have to talk to you.”

  So Willy walks away and I’m left in the corner, facing out into the room.

  Everybody is quiet. There’s tension in the air. Willy leans over as Gil mutters into his ear. Men prowl around, every now and again looking over at me. I see their eyes move up and down my body, and it makes me grimace to wonder how they can think of sex at a time like this.

  Quietly, I try to pull at the tape keeping my hands together. It’s tight, and I can feel the hairs on my arms being pulled out. But even so, it’s starting to loosen.

  Suddenly, there’s a movement. Something small, and against the far wall. I look at the window in the unguarded door and see Lance’s face.

  My heart skips a beat in my chest. He’s only there for a few seconds before disappearing, and I glance around the room. Nobody else seems to have noticed. I wait, my heart pounding, but nothing happens. Part of me thinks I imagined it. It’s not until half a minute later that I hear Lance’s voice call out from beyond that door.

  “Gil!” he shouts, a sharp noise, and everybody starts, turning their head in that direction. Several guys raise their guns, the rustling of metal only amplified by the silence in the room.

  “He was supposed to use the front!” Gil hisses.

  “I told you, we should’ve guarded the back!” replies Jackson.

  “Shut up!” Gil whispers. And then, “Lance! Come on out! Come and join us!”

  Lance responds, “You’re not going to just shoot me when I come out, are you?”

  “What? No!” Gil replies with a laugh. “Nobody’s going to shoot anyone!”

  “Then why are all your guys aiming their guns at the door?”

  Gil hesitates a moment, and then laughs again.

  “Ha ha, ahh, you are a slippery one, Lance! Okay everybody, lower your weapons.”

  The men all do as he says, slowing lowering their guns. They look unsure, uncertain of what’s going to happen.

  “Okay, they’re all down!” Gil shouts, and through the window I see a small mirror appear for a second before disappearing.

  “Okay!” Lance calls out. “I’m coming out!”

  And then the door opens slowly and Lance steps out into the room. He doesn’t have a gun in his hands. Every single person around him is quiet.

  The air is thick with anticipation. Inside I’m screaming, Damn it, Lance! It’s a trap! He’s going to kill you!

  The door behind him swings closed again and Lance looks around the room. He looks at the men scattered about the room, at Jackson and Willy standing by the desk, at me taped up in the corner, and then at Gil, standing next to Jackson. Lance smiles.

  “Gil,” he says amiably. “Buddy. What’s going on? What’s with all the metal?”

  “Don’t buddy me, Lance,” Gil says. “You’re not my buddy. You haven’t been my buddy since day one.”

  “I’ve been your employee,” Lance tells him. “That’s the same as being your buddy.”

  “No,” Gil says, and I can hear the pouting in his voice. “You know what being a buddy is?” He walks over to Jackson and stops beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Being a buddy is doing whatever your boss tells you, no matter what. Being a buddy is not going behind his back and telling lies to his face.”

  “What?” Lance furrows his brow, keeping the smile on his face. “Gil, I may have backed out of that job, but I didn’t lie to you.”

  “Oh.” Gil nods, and he takes his arm from Jackson as he starts taking slow, rambling steps around the room. Lance’s eyes follow him. “Oh, I see. Oh you didn’t lie, is that right?” Gil stops and looks at Lance. “Lance … how loyal would you say you are?”

  Lance narrows his eyes. “How loyal am I?” Gil nods. “Loyal enough to work for you for three years.”

  “Hmm,” Gil takes another few long, rambling steps as he seems to think. “Interesting, interesting. And what about your friend here?” He turns to look at Willy, whose eyes open wide. “How loyal would you say he is?”

  It happens in the blink of an eye. Before Willy can move Jackson’s got his arms behind his back, and at the same time Lance’s gun is out of his holster and is pointed directly at Jackson’s head. The other men scrabble to get their guns up, pointing them at Lance, and by the time they’re all raised some of them are shaking, constantly adjusting their aim. Gil raises a hand a
nd calls for quiet, and those with their guns out freeze while Willy struggles against Jackson.

  “Hey! Hey!” Willy shouts as he tries to get free. “What in the fuck?”

  “Now now, be patient, Willy,” Gil says, looking at him. “There’s no need for anybody to get hurt. I just want to clear a few things up.”

  He motions for everybody pointing a gun at Lance to lower it, and they do, cautiously. Lance hesitates a moment, and then slowly lowers his gun too. Jackson gives him a wide smile.

  “Okay,” Lance says. “What do you want cleared up?”

  “Yeah? What the fuck is this about?” Willy shouts.

  Gil smiles. “You and Willy. You’re old friends, is that right?”

  “Yes,” Lance responds at the same time that Willy says, “Yeah!”

  “Mm yes.” Gil closes his eyes and nods. “I remember. You both came to work for me at the same time. And, … how long have you two been friends?”

  Willy shouts out, “Since we were kids!” He struggles again but Jackson holds him tight.

  “Since we were kids,” Lance repeats, keeping his calm much better than Willy. Gil nods again as he walks around his desk and pulls open a drawer.

  “And … knowing each other since you were kids … I’m guessing you two came up with secret codes together, didn’t you?”

  Gil pulls out a gigantic ornate knife and my eyes go wide. The handle is made of gold, the curved blade at least eight inches long. Lance tenses and Willy stops struggling for a moment, his eyes going wide too as he stares at the thing in Gil’s hand. Indeed, everybody seems to be staring at it.

  “Gil …” Lance says in a steady, calming voice. “Think about what you’re doing.”

  “I overheard you two talking, Lance,” Gil says, although he’s not looking at Lance now. He’s studying the blade in his hand. “I heard Willy talk to you this morning.”

  He takes a step towards Willy, and then another one, until he’s standing in front of him. Willy tries to pull back, but Jackson keeps him where he is.

  “And I know for a fact,” Gil says, “that you don’t have a sister.”

  “Gil,” says Willy. “It wasn’t-”

  Gil’s hand swipes at Willy’s neck and his words are cut off instantly, replaced by a wet bubbling sound.

  Lance’s gun is up again, but so are all the others, and behind all the clatter of metal and shuffling feet comes a low choking gurgle.

  I stare, fixated in horror, as Jackson releases Willy’s arms, letting him drop to the ground. Willy continues spluttering, blood pumping out of his neck wound and coating the floor around him. Gil casually takes out a handkerchief and wipes the blade clean, then puts it down on his desk. When I look over at Lance, he’s staring at Willy with shock in his eyes.

  “I do not abide by traitors,” Gil says in an eerily calm voice. “I hate liars, and I hate people who lie to me.”

  Down on the ground Willy has stopped moving. The wet sound of him trying to breathe is slowly fading. Blood pools all around him.

  Lance’s gun hand is shaking. He’s pointing it halfway between Gil and Jackson, not aiming at either of them. Jackson smiles, and when Gil finally looks up at Lance again he gives him a penetrating stare.

  “How did that make you feel, Lance?” he asks. Lance slowly swallows, his eyes focusing on nothing, his gun still aimed straight out in front of him.

  “How did it make me feel?” Lance asks. “How do you think that made me feel?”

  “Well, obviously I don’t know, because you might just lie to me!” Gil shouts. “Lance, don’t you get it? All I wanted was to be your friend!”

  Lance swallows, and then he focuses on Gil. “My friend?”

  “Yes!” Gil says with a smile. “I mean … you’re headstrong, sure. And this last job …” He gives a chuckle. “I sent Jackson to kill you. For disobeying me.” He chuckles again and Lance watches him, all other guns trained on Lance. Gil shakes his head. “It’s silly. Maybe a little over the top. But I don’t know. I didn’t think I was wrong. Do you?”

  Gil is smiling widely now and Lance’s expression remains the same, but then he starts to smile too. He lowers his gun down and the others, slowly, lower their guns as well.

  “No, Gil,” Lance says, giving a soft chuckle now. “You weren’t wrong at all.”

  Gil’s eyes light up and he starts to laugh. The other men look around at each other, and some of them even try out a smile. The only person still eyeing Lance is Jackson.

  “In fact,” Lance says, laughing a bit louder now. “I was going to quit here. I don’t want to do this work anymore!”

  Gil seems to find that hilarious, and he really starts laughing. Lance laughs along with him, shaking his head as he starts walking towards Gil. Jackson’s gun is up in a second and pointed at Lance, but Gil, still laughing, motions for him to put it back down. Jackson narrows his eyes, but does what he’s told.

  “Oh God,” Gil says as Lance puts a hand on his shoulder. “I guess I’ve been a bit of a bad boss, huh?”

  Lance shakes his head, chuckling. “No, you weren’t a bad boss.” Gil laughs some more. “In fact, you were probably one of the best bosses I’ve ever had.”

  Gil’s laughs again, but now he looks at Lance with a different expression on his face. Lance is smiling down at him.

  “You really mean that?” Gil asks, his eyes gleaming, and Lance nods.

  “Yeah,” he nods. “I do. In fact, you love to high-five, right?”

  “I love it,” Gil says, brightening.

  “Why don’t we high-five about it? Two times?”

  Lance raises his hand, the one not holding his gun, and Gil looks at it, astonished, like he’s being given a puppy. Then he lifts his hand too, and twice in a row they slap their hands together.

  Just like that, all the lights go out.

  An instant later flashes of brilliance fill the room as gunshots echo around, almost deafening me. I scream in my chair as I hear men yell and cry out and die. I struggle hard, pulling my hands to try to free them from these bonds. A loud shout comes followed by two claps and suddenly the lights all blink on again.

  The entire ordeal maybe lasted three seconds, but every person in the room is on the floor dead, all except for Gil, Jackson, Lance, and myself. Lance and Jackson are standing six feet apart, their guns pointed at one another’s head, both of them with looks of pure hatred on their faces. Gil is leaning on his desk, holding onto his side where blood is seeping out between his fingers.

  “Okay, Lance!” Gil shouts, cringing as more blood soaks into his shirt. “Very funny! A very fine trick!”

  “Glad you got the Clapper installed, Gil,” Lance says, not taking his eyes off of Jackson. Both men’s arms stand perfectly still, their guns trained exactly where they want them.

  “Fuck you,” Gil says, spitting up some blood, and he stumbles around his desk only to pick up the knife he used to kill Willy. “Now, I was going to wait until you were dead before I killed this girl.” I look over at him, at the knife in his hands, and my heart beats hard as I keep pulling on the tape that binds my hands. “But now I’m thinking,” he says, taking a step towards me and stumbling a little, “that maybe I’ll make you watch as I cut the flesh from her bones.”

  “Be careful not to kill her,” Jackson calls over, and Lance’s jaw clenches. “I still want to fuck that whore before she goes.”

  “Don’t worry,” Gil coughs up some blood as he takes another step. “I’ll leave some for you, Jackson. You’re my favorite.”

  I keep struggling against the tape. It’s only now starting to slacken.

  “I just hope,” Gil takes another step, finally reaching me, “you don’t mind getting some blood on your-”

  My hand slips out and in one quick swoop I bring my arm around and hit Gil in the wrist. It knocks the knife from his hand as he shouts.

  “Wha-?”

  “Gil?” comes Jackson’s voice, and I look over just in time to see him start to turn his he
ad.

  BAM!

  Fire explodes from the end of Lance’s gun and an instant later Jackson’s head shatters, spraying blood and bone out behind him. As his body begins falling Lance pivots, pointing his gun down at Gil.

  BAM!

  “Ooph!” I hear, and Gil doubles over, falling forward to the ground.

  I hurriedly pull the tape from my wrist and then reach down, ripping open the bonds that hold my legs. Gil is lying on the floor, writhing and moaning at my feet. Lance doesn’t speak as he walks towards us, his face like that of a statue. When I’m free I stand up, pushing the chair back behind me. Lance stops beside Gil and looks down at him. We both watch as the pitiful man rolls over on the ground, looking up at us.

  “Lance, please” he gasps, the front of his shirt now soaked with blood. He coughs and more blood comes up. “Please.”

  “You son of a bitch,” Lance snarls, breathing hard. “You did this. You did all of this!”

  “It wasn’t me,” he coughs again. “Listen. It was Will Silv-”

  BAM!

  Lance’s gun fires and a hole appears in the middle of Gil’s forehead. He collapses, dead now, blood pouring out of the wound and already spreading in a pool on the floor.

  I swallow. My heart is pounding, and when I pull my eyes from Gil’s dead body I see Lance lower his gun. His face relaxes, but he’s still breathing hard. And then he looks over, at the body of Willy lying on the ground. Lance drops his gun to the floor.

  “Willy …” he chokes out, and then he walks over to where his friend lies dead on the ground before dropping to his knees. He crouches over Willy, grabbing the front of his shirt, lifting him up and pulling him close in an embrace. I hesitate for a moment, then walk over, slowly. When I reach Lance, I kneel down beside him and put a hand on his back. It’s only then that he begins to cry.

  And as he cries I start to cry too. The two of us together. The only ones left after this massacre. We cry for the pain and the madness, we cry for our loved ones, for the dead and the alive together.

  But mostly, I cry for what’s yet to happen. For the fact that Lance and I are not alone. And that beyond all this mayhem and destruction there can still be life. Beauty and happiness, even if we can’t see it right now. It’s there, waiting to be had. And I cry because we’re going to be together. We have each other now. And if you don’t have each other, then you have nothing at all.