Hit and Run: A Mafia Hitman Romance

by Natasha Tanner

  “I’d rather not say. But dude, seriously. I think the feds caught the message I sent you. I can’t meet you in Edinburgh.” I hear the sound of tapping fingers on a tabletop come through the phone. “They’re listening, dude.”

  “Good,” I reply. “The message was intercepted. It wasn’t the feds. It was Damian Lucas. He’s meeting me in Edinburgh tomorrow. Same place you wanted to meet me.”

  Flea exhales loudly. “Did you not hear what I – “

  “I heard you. And it’s Edinburgh. Tomorrow night.” I hang up the burner phone and throw it in a trash can, hailing yet another taxi cab and paying him nearly the last of my Euros to take me to the airport.

  I smile for the security cameras as I approach the ticket counter, my sunglasses and hat tucked into my pockets.

  This is overkill, but I want the feds to know that I’m in Europe. I’m serious.

  And I want them to be there tomorrow night with Damian.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ELIZABETH

  I drop off the couch and onto my knees. I Army crawl using my elbows and pull my legs behind me. I pause just as before to make sure the men are still talking in the other room.

  So far so good.

  I make it to the window ledge and manage to somehow pull myself into a near-standing position.

  My hands can’t quite reach the window latch.

  I grunt as quietly as I can and force myself to reach further.

  Finally, the tape connects with the rusty metal piece. It’s so sharp I barely have to press at all before the metal pokes through the tape. I slide the bindings down the metal latch.

  I’m free.

  I nearly yelp in surprise and joy but clap a hand over the binding in my mouth just in time. I reach down and undo the bindings on my feet, the sticky tape clinging to my fingers. I think I can fit through this window if I wiggle enough.

  My hand is on the glass of the window when I hear footsteps.

  I re-wrap the tape and place the bindings around my wrists. I toss my body back onto the sofa, trying to slow down my breathing so Damian doesn’t suspect anything out of the ordinary.

  I look at the door as it opens. “Mr. Lucas wants you moved,” grunts the monster whose arm I sliced open back in Munich.

  He lifts me off the sofa and I feel the tape start to slip off of my wrists.

  If he looks down, he’ll know that I tried to escape.

  I hold my breath and cross my fingers, praying to God that he won’t see what I’ve done. I’ve come this far.

  This can’t be the end.

  He walks me up the steps of the house, the treads of the stairs creaking ominously under our combined weight. I groan inwardly knowing that my chance of sneaking down these stairs undetected is next to nothing.

  We step into a tiny bedroom with a slanted ceiling. He tosses me haphazardly onto the mattress on the floor.

  “Just wait until Mr. Lucas lets me have my way with you, you little bitch,” he sneers at me.

  I press my wrists between my legs so he can’t see that the tape is nearly falling off of them.

  “I’m going to get back at you for this.” He pulls back the sleeves of his suit and shows me a white gauze bandage wrapped around where I mauled him. He grunts at me again and his breath falls on my face. It’s foul.

  I say nothing.

  I can’t because of the bindings.

  But if I could, I’d be letting out a resolute fuck you.

  He leaves me in the bedroom and I have to reassess what it is that I’m going to do now.

  I wait until the stairs stop creaking as he descends them. Then I hop up, hastily unwrapping my feet and stuffing the duct tape under the stained mattress.

  There’s a small window and I think I can make it through.

  I push it open but the wooden frame has swelled from years of neglect, rain, and humidity. I finally get it open and peer below. It’s a thirteen-foot drop from here. No drainpipe. No deck rooftop.

  I think of Cain and I think of the baby living inside of me.

  The fall might injure me. It might hurt the baby.

  I run the odds in my head.

  I’m saved from having to make a decision by the sound of the door opening behind me.

  “I made it sound like I walked down the stairs, you fucking bitch.” It’s the henchman. “I thought Mr. Lucas said you were smart.” He runs across the room toward me as I scream through the gag.

  He wraps his hands around my mouth and drags me by the hair back to the bed.

  I can’t get out of here.

  I’m not going to make it.

  Tears fill my eyes as all hope dies within me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CAIN

  I spend the night in a B&B in Edinburgh that doesn’t ask me for a photo ID. I figure by now the feds know near enough where I am.

  They know I have Damian. They don’t know I have the list, though.

  The list of every drug dealer on the eastern seaboard. Suppliers. Dealers. The men who run everything. This list will take the government right to the front door of every single person they’ve been looking for. I’m sitting on a complete goldmine of information.

  Information people would kill for.

  The day drags on. I order takeaway and barely touch it. I think about looking for Elizabeth, but there’s no point. Damian could have her literally anywhere.

  And I know he won’t hurt her before he has the chance to see me. She is his leverage. If she’s dead, he has nothing to give me. He knows I’ll kill him.

  The sun finally sets and I sit and wait on the edge of my bed.

  It’s time.

  I walk downstairs and nod at the elderly hotel clerk behind the desk.

  “Stay bundled!” he yells at me. “It’s nippy out there.”

  I nod and push through the door, my heart beating.

  The streets are mostly empty as I pass underneath streetlamps. A cold mist hangs over this ancient place.

  I memorized the route to the graveyard earlier. I know exactly where it is. I looked at enough photos to pick out vantage points. Hiding places. I know where Damian is going to have his men positioned with their guns aimed at my head and at my heart.

  I know, because it’s exactly where I would have been positioned by a man like Damian.

  But I’m not anyone’s bitch anymore.

  I work alone.

  The cemetery smells of mildew and wet earth. If I were superstitious guy, I’d be frightened as I pass over ancient gravestones, some crumpled and some unreadable because of the moss growing over them.

  “Well, well, well.”

  Damian’s voice rings out from behind me and I hold my hands up. “I’m not armed,” I say truthfully.

  When I kill Damian, I’m pounding his head to a pulp with my bare hands.

  A gunshot wound would be too good for this bastard.

  “Where is she?” I ask right away.

  Damian smiles at me, his face just visible from the glow of a streetlamp perched behind the walls of the cemetery. “I always liked how quickly you get down to business,” he says with a slimy grin. “Your wife is just fine.”

  “Show me,” I say.

  Damian laughs. “You show me that you have what I want first. Then I’ll show you your little bitch.”

  The hairs on my neck stand up and my heart pounds. “Say that again.”

  “Oh, Cain. You really think you have the upper hand here? I wouldn’t be making threats if I were you, honestly.” He twirls around on his heels. “Atmospheric place, isn’t it? If I were writing the final act of a play, this is where I’d set it. Gloomy. Damp. Cold. Eerily quiet with just enough shadows to keep you spooked.” Damian jerks his body like he’s going to dive towards me. He laughs when I flinch. “Ah, so I see that even a big, tough guy like you is afraid of little ghosties.” He cackles loudly, his voice echoing across bare tombstones before being absorbed by the lush flora. “Who would have ever thought growing up that I would have t
he upper hand over you?”

  “Show me my wife,” I repeat. “You don’t get to see the jump drive until I see her.”

  Damian rests his fingertips together and looks at me pensively. “No, no, no, Cain. You still aren’t the one making the decisions, I can promise you that. Now where’s the drive?”

  I reach into my pocket, resigned to the fact that I do not have the upper hand here, as much as I may want it. “It’s right here,” I say, pinching the hard metal between my fingers.

  Damian smiles. “And how do I know that you won’t be handing me a blank drive?”

  “Because you have my wife. That’s how you know. There’s no way I would risk that.”

  Damian shakes his head. “It wasn’t really a question, actually. Harry. Out here.” He snaps his fingers and a man appears out of the shadows holding a tablet. “I need to see it on here with my own eyes, alright?”

  It’s my turn to shake my head. “Absolutely not,” I say in protest. “I’m not handing this over to you until you hand me Elizabeth.”

  Damian exhales. “What kind of man do you think I am, Cain? Of course I’ll let you pull it up on the tablet. Then you’ll hand it back to Harry. Then I’ll look at it. If I’m satisfied, you get your wife. If I’m not, well…you won’t like the way this ends.” He smiles again. It’s all I can do to not rush at him to knock him over entirely right now. I think of Elizabeth and the thought of her face keeps me firmly planted in place.

  Harry walks over to me and hands me the tablet. I take the cap of the thumb drive off with my teeth and insert the stick into the USB port on the side. I tap across the screen to open up the file. I nod and look at Damian. “I’m not handing you this.” I take a few steps closer to him and eye Harry.

  Damian sighs. “Harry, back to where you were, please. He doesn’t trust that you’re not going to snap his neck and steal my little toy here.”

  Harry shuffles away back into the shadows.

  I stand three feet from Damian and hold the tablet so he can see it. I scroll with my fingers until Damian seems satisfied.

  “Alright,” he finally says. “Bring out the girl!”

  I look around frantically for Elizabeth. She appears, bound and gagged and pushed forward by another goon.

  I scan her face for signs of distress and see that her cheek has multiple, fresh wounds on it like someone scratched her with fingernails.

  “Lizzy!” I yell.

  She yells my name back, but the syllables are obscured by the gag in her mouth.

  “Take it off of her so I know that she’s okay,” I say to Damian.

  He rolls his eyes. “Where’s the trust?” I stare him down. “Alright, ungag her.”

  The guy handles her far too roughly for my tastes and releases her.

  She coughs violently. “Damian,” she says, her voice hoarse.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her.

  She nods. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

  Relief floods over me, but I’m not letting my guard down until I have her in my arms.

  “Give me her first,” I say. “Then you get the drive.”

  “How do I know you didn’t make copies?” Damian asks.

  “You don’t know that,” I reply. “But I didn’t. I promise you that. You have my wife. I wouldn’t risk her life by lying to you. You’re a smart guy. You knew I was lying back in Switzerland when I said I wasn’t a snitch. Am I lying now?”

  Damian squints his eyes at me. “No, you’re not lying.” He snaps his fingers again and Elizabeth is shoved towards me.

  I take her into my arms and she starts sobbing. I hand the tablet over to Damian, completely caught up in relief.

  I smell the top of her head. I can faintly smell her shampoo, but it’s mixed with the oily scent of several days’ worth of unwashed hair. I don’t care. She’s mine. She’s here. And she’s in one piece.

  “Cain,” she says, her lip trembling. “Please. We need to get out of here. I don’t trust him.”

  I know in my head we need to stay here just a few moments longer. We’ve bought our freedom from Damian but not our freedom from the feds.

  Except they’re not here.

  “Now, now, Lizzy boo boo,” Damian says sarcastically. “That’s no way to treat your host, is it?”

  “Fuck you,” Elizabeth says, still clinging onto me. I’m holding her so tightly that I’m surprised she can even breathe.

  Damian tuts his mouth. “You should learn to be more polite.” His voice has changed. I feel Elizabeth shudder and I know she’s heard the change in his voice, too. “You know what?” he asks, handing the tablet to Harry. “I think I’ve changed my mind.” He holds up his hand. “Kill them both.”

  A red laser dot appears on Elizabeth’s head and I throw her to the ground as bullets fire, my body protecting her.

  I feel the piercing, burning sting of a bullet lodging itself in my back and I cry out. Elizabeth is screaming and it’s the restaurant all over again.

  “Leave them,” Damian says. “Let him bleed out on top of her and she can live with the fact that she’s the reason her husband is dead.” He snaps his fingers again. My vision is getting blurry and I’m gritting my teeth from the pain. “Let’s head out, boys!”

  I’m drifting in and out of consciousness. I think I hear Elizabeth saying something. Maybe it’s my name. Maybe it’s her yelling out to me to keep me conscious.

  I can feel her wiggling underneath me. I hope I’m not crushing her.

  I open my lips to form words. I want to tell her that I love her. I want to tell her that everything’s going to be alright.

  But I don’t get the chance.

  White light blinds me and I feel my consciousness marching towards it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CAIN

  “Everybody freeze!”

  The voice calls out over a megaphone and I think to myself that this is a bizarre version of heaven. It’s not at all what I’ve been expecting my whole life.

  I blink a few times and realize that the white light is massive industrial lamps illuminating the cemetery. It’s so bright we might as well be on a beach in the Caribbean.

  I glance around and see Damian with his hands in the air. Red dots dance on his pale forehead.

  “Now, boys, I think we can work this all out,” Damian says with his usual smile. But it’s a thin smile and I can tell that he doesn’t mean it. He knows this is it. This is the end.

  And it is.

  It might actually be the end for me, too.

  I use my last energy to speak.

  “I love you, Lizzy.”

  And then I pass out into a perfect, peaceful, painless beyond.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  ELIZABETH

  Beep.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  I open my eyes and turn my head. There’s an IV coming out of my arm.

  I’m in a hospital.

  I reach over to pull out the tape and needle combination. I hate needles. I hate having things stuck into my skin.

  But the pain I feel when I move just slightly takes my breath away completely.

  “Ouch,” I mutter.

  Someone coughs and I’m so startled I jump a little. More pain shoots through my ribcage. I look toward the sound. There’s a curtain dividing the room. I can’t see who’s behind it.

  I try to think about what I last remember.

  The cemetery.

  Damian.

  The sound of a gunshot.

  Severe pain as Cain jumped on top of me. The weight of his body as he passed out.

  And me losing consciousness from my own pain. I take one hand and lift it gingerly toward my sternum. I pull open the neck of my hospital gown and check inside of it. I see my chest is wrapped in bandages. I press my ribcage gingerly and pain shoots through my body.

  My ribs must be broken.

  I fumble for the button to call the nurse. I press the plastic red circle and it’s only a matter of seconds before the d
oor opens.

  “Yes?” says a short, slim woman wearing a nurse’s uniform.

  “Where is my husband?” I ask her.

  She smiles at me kindly. “He’s still in surgery, love.”

  “I’m pregnant. My baby…”

  “Don’t you worry. Your baby is doing just fine. And you’re not on any medications that will harm it, I promise. Do you need something else?”

  I run my tongue over my teeth. “Water, please.”

  She prepares me a glass from a pitcher and hands it to me.

  “What happened?” I ask her.

  She shakes her head with a small, gentle smile. “I’m afraid I’m not sure of that, love. I do know that you’re completely safe here.”

  “Who is next to me?” I ask, pointing at the curtain.

  “An old man totally unrelated to you.”

  “Will I get to share a room with my husband when he comes out of surgery?”

  She pats my leg. “I’ll see what I can do. How are your pain levels?”

  “About a five,” I say. “I’m guessing I cracked some ribs.”

  “Yes,” she says. “I think we can probably set that up.” She glances at the door. “There’s a police officer guarding the door, alright? So if you hit that button it’ll call me. If you yell, it’ll bring the policeman inside. Understand?”

  I nod. “I just really, really want to see my husband.” All I can think about right now is Cain. I remember what it felt like when I thought the last of his breath was leaving his body. I passed out in that cemetery from a combination of deep sadness and pain, I think.

  I blink back tears. “I’d like to sleep now,” I say.

  “That’s a good girl. When you wake up, I’m sure your husband will be right next to you. I’ll make certain of it, love.”

  She pats my leg again and leaves the hospital room, dimming the lights on her way out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CAIN

  I wake up and my first thought is of Elizabeth.

  I try to mumble her name, but my mouth is so dry from lack of water nothing comes out.

  A nurse pats my arm. “Don’t try to speak. The intubation probably bruised your vocal chords a bit, son. And you probably need some ice chips.” She reaches over and hands me a foam cup.