Hit and Run: A Mafia Hitman Romance

by Natasha Tanner

I take it and step over Damian, who is coughing violently.

  Cain pulls me up the stairs, my legs shaking underneath me. I wish I could get a better grip on walking, but I can’t seem to pull it together. He ends up picking me up once again and carrying me back into the bedroom.

  “Get-“ he starts to say. But I already know.

  “Get dressed because we’re leaving?” I finish, finally finding my words again.

  Cain smiles at me. “Yeah. You know the drill.”

  “How are we getting out of here, exactly?” I ask him.

  Cain reaches into his pocket and pulls out a single car key. “My dear cousin,” he says sarcastically, “Has a garaged Maserati that I think will get us out of here just fine.”

  Twenty minutes later, we’ve snuck out of the house and stolen a car.

  A car that costs as much as a college education at most Ivy League colleges.

  “I don’t even know what my life is right now,” I say to Cain. I’m punchy from a lack of sleep, crossing half a dozen time zones and the pure absurdity of the last few days.

  “You might have to get used to it,” he says. “Because this on-the-run thing might last longer than I was originally expecting.”

  We drive through the Swiss night time, the headlights reflecting off of the snow-lined roads. Cain drives a little bit faster than I would be driving, but I’m not worried. His strong hands are firmly on the wheel.

  I almost feel relaxed. Part of it is pure shock from nearly being assaulted by Damian.

  “You know something?” I ask Cain.

  He glances over at me, taking his eyes off the road for a millisecond. “What’s that?”

  “I’m starting to think we can’t trust anybody.”

  Cain laughs uproariously. “Yeah, I get that feeling, too.”

  I join in with his laughter until both of us are crying from mirth.

  He puts his hand on my thigh and we ride away together into the night.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CAIN

  “Lizzy. Elizabeth.” I hate to wake her up, but I don’t really have a choice. Her dark hair falls in loose waves around her neck and shoulders, and her rosebud lips are puckered softly, her breath easing out of them. I shake her shoulder.

  She blinks a few times and rubs her eyes. “Hey,” she says, seeing my face. “Did you drive us all the way back to New York?”

  “Almost,” I reply with a chuckle. “We’re taking a train the rest of the way and ditching the car. I’m sure Damian has figured out it’s gone by now.”

  I help her out of the car and make our way to the train platform. I keep glancing around at my environment, ever-watchful for any thing or any person that seems out of place. I bounce on the balls of my feet as I pull out cash to pay for the tickets.

  “Shit,” I say, looking in my wallet. “You only take Euros here?” I look at Lizzy. “The cab driver didn’t have an issue.”

  The ticket agent looks annoyed at me. “There’s a booth over there,” she says primly.

  “I’ll get it,” Elizabeth says. “You go freshen up. You look like death warmed over.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I reply, running my hand through my hair self-consciously. “Don’t leave with any strange men, alright?”

  She smiles at me. “Well, depends on how good-looking they are. I might trade you in for a better model.”

  We part and I use the bathroom as fast as I can. My heart is pounding from pure nerves. I don’t like to think of Elizabeth being somewhere I can’t see her. Not right now. Not with God-knows-who chasing after us.

  I see her dark hair and I breathe a sigh of relief. She’s already exchanged the money for Euros and is standing at the ticket counter.

  “Hey,” she says with a smile. “Got us two seats. Train leaves in five minutes, so we better hurry.” She takes my hand in hers and I try not to feel giddy over that. Giddiness isn’t exactly manly.

  But when I touch her, I feel things I’ve never felt before in my life. Things like hope. Happiness. Comfort. Safety.

  We find our seats on the train and settle in, Elizabeth looking out the window at the Zurich station.

  “I’ll probably sleep,” she says. “I always sleep on trains.”

  I laugh. “I thought you barely left New York? You telling me your dad let you take the subway? And you were able to sleep on it with all that racket going on around your head?”

  She smiles. “Yeah, we used to take the subway sometimes when I was a kid. And I always passed out.” She yawns. “See? I’m already tired. But I’ll try not to. Somebody needs to keep watch, I guess.”

  I yawn a second later, spurred on by hers. “That would be nice.” I lean the chair back and put my feet onto her lap. She doesn’t object. “Wake me up when we’re in Munich.”

  “I can’t believe we’re going to Munich,” she says with a wistful look on her face.

  “Some women might consider this the honeymoon of their lives, if you really thought about it.”

  She beams at me. “Yeah, well, if we survive all of this, you owe me a real honeymoon.”

  “So you do consider me to be your husband?”

  She shrugs. “Don’t get cocky. Just because I want to vacation with you doesn’t mean I think we’re really married.” She pauses. “Even though we technically are. Now, sleep. I don’t want my bodyguard to be tired.”

  I pass out in minutes into a dreamless sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  ELIZABETH

  Munich is even better than Zurich. I didn’t think that was even possible. The streets are bustling with young people, and there’s an energy here that is contagious. I almost bounce through the streets with Cain next to me.

  We make it to a hostel where Cain pays cash for a double room. “Sorry it’s not a hotel,” he says. “But I’m guessing Damian will check the fancy places first. This is a lot safer bet for us.”

  I plop down on the bed. The mattress isn’t great, but it’s adequate. “It’s fine,” I say. “So, when are we going to explore the city?”

  Cain laughs and checks his watch. “We’ve got a few hours until dinner. How about now?”

  I practically have to drag Cain from coffee shop to coffee shop. We drink in the city together, stopping every few feet so I can admire the centuries-old architecture.

  “I really like this place,” I say.

  “Really? Because you seemed sort of unsure,” he says with a grin.

  We pass a secondhand clothing shop and I point at it. “I think we should probably buy some clothes. I kind of want to burn these.”

  Cain agrees and we spend an hour trolling through racks. I pick out a few t-shirts, a coat that still has tags on it, and a pair of shoes. Cain buys a duffel bag and we put our purchases into it.

  “One day I’ll take you shopping for real,” Cain whispers in my ear while we wait for the subway. Multi-colored lines are painted on the walls. I feel like I’m standing on the inside of a rainbow.

  “You just took me shopping,” I say, confused.

  “No, I mean at a real store. With fancy dresses that make your tits look incredible,” he says.

  I actually blush.

  We ride the subway and I hope for a second that the people around us think we’re a real couple. A normal couple. That we could just disappear in this city and never be found again. The thought appeals to me more than I can say.

  But then there’s my sister. I can’t just leave her, can I?

  We stop at a market to buy a fresh loaf of bread, a block of cheese, and a bottle of wine. Back at the hostel, we have a makeshift picnic on the bottom bunk.

  “So what’s next?” I ask Cain.

  He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know? Isn’t this what you do?”

  Cain sighs. “This is the situation. The government is after me. My shitbag cousin probably went through his own contacts to let them know we had a little sleepover. But nobody followed us here. I would know.” He ex
hales slowly. “I’m going to try to contact Flea to see if he has anything new to tell us. But honestly? I think we could stay here a while. Not at this hostel. But maybe get a flat for a month or two. Just lay low here. I have just enough cash that I think we could last for a while if we’re smart with our money.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  Cain looks surprised. “You’re okay with that? Going off grid and just being here? With me?”

  “You said yourself how excited I was all day. I like this place. It’d be nice to just be sort of invisible for a little bit. Nobody knows me here. I can roam.”

  “Well, not too far,” Cain says. “Just because nobody followed us doesn’t mean that we won’t be found.”

  I roll my eyes. “Stop being nitpicky. If you want to tail me the whole time we’re here, that’s fine. You can do that. I just mean that you’ll probably let me explore more than my…well. More than my dad would have let me explore.”

  It’s suddenly awkward between us.

  Cain breaks off a piece of bread and chews it thoughtfully. “Tomorrow we’ll look for a little flat. Something near a train station stop. Sound good?”

  I nod. “Yeah. That sounds great.”

  “This is kind of romantic, right?” Cain asks me, leaning back on the creaking metal frame.

  “Romantic until you break the bed,” I reply, taking a bite of the sharp, hard cheese.

  Cain leans forward, close to my face. “I think we’re going to be breaking a lot of beds together, Lizzy.”

  I lean forward and kiss his lips, the taste of wine on his salty skin. “Care to practice that theory right now?

  “Do you really need to even ask me that?”

  Cain shoves the excess food into the paper shopping bag and drops it on the floor, leaning over to kiss me fully. I groan as his hands find my breasts. My body tingles from his touch.

  Maybe this will be like a honeymoon.

  It can’t be so bad to be in this place with him.

  I tangle myself up in his hot embrace and let myself forget who we are and why we’re here.

  Just for a little while, I want to think that all of this is real.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CAIN

  We find a place the first day we look. It’s a one-room flat but the price is right and at least it has a tiny little kitchen. The bed takes up half the living room.

  But we don’t really need a sofa with as much fucking as we’re doing right now. It’s not like we’re watching Netflix marathons.

  We’re just fucking.

  A lot.

  On the bed. Up against the wall. On the kitchen counter. On the parquet wooden floor.

  We’re like two rabbits together. Her and I are like magnets constantly drawn together.

  I wake up one blustery morning in late December to find that Lizzy’s gone.

  I go from groggy to dead awake in about a tenth of a second. “Lizzy?” I call out into the apartment.

  I check the only other room; the bathroom. She’s not in it.

  I look in the kitchen for a note.

  There is none.

  I throw clothes on and fly out the door, down the twisting staircase to the lobby.

  I run smack into Lizzy carrying two bags of groceries.

  “Jesus Christ, Lizzy,” I say to her. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  She laughs. “I wanted to get a jump on groceries. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “And you couldn’t have left a fucking note?”

  She flinches at my words. “Seriously? I couldn’t find any paper. Relax.”

  I take the grocery bags from her and we walk upstairs.

  “Sorry I scared you so much,” she says, putting the groceries away. “Like I said, I couldn’t sleep. I thought I would be back before you woke up.”

  “Yeah, well. Don’t fucking do that again,” I say. I step forward until she’s trapped against the cabinets.

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” she counters, reaching down and unbuttoning my jeans.

  “I’ll always tell you what to do,” I whisper back to her, reaching under her sweater to find her bra and unclasping it.

  “Is that right?” she replies.

  I lift her sweater over her head and her bra drops to the floor. “Turn around,” I say to her.

  She does, putting her hands up against the wall behind the counter. Her tits are hanging down and I grab them, running my fingertips over the hard nubs. She moves her hands so she can take her own pants off.

  It takes seconds for her to be naked. I walk up behind her, sliding my cock against her ass. She gasps and I feel between her legs with my fingers. She’s so wet it’ll take no pressure at all for me to be inside of her. I take the head of my cock and rub it in her wetness. She trembles.

  “You like that, wife?” I ask her.

  “Yes,” she gasps. “I like that.”

  “So what do you want now?” I kiss the back of her neck and grab both of her tits with one hand from behind.

  “I want you inside of me,” she says.

  “Say it louder,” I say. “Call me what I am.”

  “I want you inside of me, Cain.”

  “No,” I say, pulling my hand away from her tits. I rub my cock against her opening, her most delicate places opening up for me. But I’m not giving her what she wants. Not yet. “What am I to you?”

  She’s breathing so heavily now I think she might pass out on the kitchen countertop. “I want you inside of me, husband.”

  She bends over at a ninety-degree angle and I slip into her. She screams out my name when she comes, and I unload inside of her.

  We collapse into bed, both of us the best kind of exhausted.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  ELIZABETH

  We both fall asleep after the kitchen sex. I wake up once again before Cain does and I watch him lying there, slowly breathing.

  I walk over to the kitchen and wrestle out the secret I was hiding in my coat pocket. I take the plastic wand and wander into the bathroom.

  I pee on it.

  And then I wait.

  I was at the modern art museum three days ago when I saw an abstract painting of a rose blossoming out of the curvy mound of a woman. That’s when I realized that I haven’t had to buy any tampons since we’ve been on the run.

  Then I did the math. It’s been nearly eight weeks since the first time Cain and I had sex at the library.

  That was more than enough time for my regular cycle to restart.

  But that period never came. That’s why I woke up this morning and went straight to the market. I didn’t leave a note for Cain because I was so preoccupied I forgot.

  So here I am, sitting in a flat in Munich with my husband in the other room, awaiting the results of a pregnancy test.

  I look down when I think it’s been long enough.

  It has.

  Two blue lines glare up at me from the countertop.

  I feel a combination of pure joy and utter fear, once again.

  This time, it really feels like I’m falling.

  I pace the tiny bathroom a dozen times, trying to decide how to approach Cain with this news. I burst out of the bathroom determined to wait until I take him out to dinner to say anything.

  But he’s just waking up from his nap, stretching his strong arms over his head, his six pack rippling in the light from the window.

  “I’m pregnant,” I say with absolutely no preamble.

  I am the worst at keeping secrets. The absolute worst. Like, there’s nobody in the world worse at it than I am, I guarantee.

  Cain laughs. “That’s funny,” he says, pushing his body up so his back leans against the headboard. “Come back to bed. I want to fuck you with your clothes on.” He pats the duvet, a sly grin on his lips.

  I respond by tossing the pee stick at him.

  He catches it easily and looks at it. “Oh my God.”

  “Yeah,” I reply, still standing near the bathroom nervously. “
I really wasn’t making that up, I swear.”

  He looks from the test to me and from me to the test. “Oh my God.”

  I bite my lip. “I’m guessing it was that first night in the library, but it could have been in the woods at Flea’s place.” I run my hands through my hair.

  He puts the test down on the bedside table. “Get over here,” he says sternly.

  I pull the sleeves of my sweater down over my hands and walk towards him, kneeling on the bed and crawling over. He grabs the back of my hair and pulls my face towards his.

  “We’re having a fucking baby,” he whispers.

  He’s smiling.

  “You’re actually excited?” I ask him, almost scared to believe it.

  He tilts his head to the side. “Are you serious? Of course I’m excited. You’re having my baby. The sexiest woman in the entire world is having my baby. Why wouldn’t I be excited?”

  I laugh nervously. “I figured…I guess I figured you wouldn’t want kids.”

  Cain shakes his head. “Yeah, maybe before I met you.” He kisses my lips softly. “But from the second I saw you, that thought flew out of my head. I wanted nothing more than to fuck a baby into your sexy body.”

  He kisses me again, his fingers playing at my panty line. I gasp for breath and pull away.

  “Wait,” I say. He stops touching me.

  “What is it?”

  “We’re on the run from your family, your sick cousin, probably my family as well, and the U.S. government. I don’t really think this is the best time-“

  He interrupts me by kissing my lips. “Don’t ruin this, Lizzy. Right now, you’re my pregnant fucking wife and I want nothing more than to keep practicing for our second kid right now.”

  I can’t resist that. I kiss him again and straddle him. He runs his fingers through my hair and I pull my panties to the side, slipping over his enormous, rock-hard rod and moving up and down slowly. I stare at him and toss my hair back.

  He rubs my breasts through my thick sweater and smiles at me. “You’re so fucking hot,” he says.

  I go up and down his shaft slower still. “You like that?” I ask him.

  He grabs the sides of my lower back and then my ass, slapping his hands onto it.