“If you want me to stay here, then you need to put the cards on the table. I need to know the truth. I need to know everything, no holding back, and no secrets. Please, tell me that you aren’t a cold-blooded killer,” said Bailey, and he sounded almost pleading.
Marc knew that if he didn’t want to lose Bailey, he would have to come clean about everything. “Yes, it’s true, I am or was an assassin. And you might not believe me, but when I tell you that I’m not a cold-blooded killer, then that’s the truth, too.” Marc paused, and he said, “You can ask me anything, and I will answer as best as I can.” “Promise?” Bailey said. Marc nodded and promised Bailey that he would tell the truth, no secrets.
“Okay, you’re an assassin. Why?” Bailey started his first question. Marc frowned because of all the questions that he expected this one hadn’t occurred to him. It was a good question, though. And one he himself had to think about. Indeed, indeed, why had he become an assassin?
“I was about eighteen or nineteen; I don’t precisely recall when one of my best friends was beaten to death for no good reason. The whole neighborhood knew who had done it, but no one dared to testify. Then, I decided to testify against Graig because I wanted him behind bars or better on the chair for what he had done. However, it never goes the way we want or expect, and this wasn’t any different. Graig was released due to a technicality.
The following week, he raped a sixteen-year-old girl. Because, to use his words, she wanted it. Again he avoided going to trial, this time because his family interfered.” Marc paused and swallowed hard. Apparently, the thought of Graig avoiding prison twice still enraged him.
“Go on,” Bailey urged, and Marc noticed that his tone was neutral. Was that good or bad? Well, he didn’t have a choice in the matter anymore. He had to come clean and be honest. Bailey had demanded the truth, and that was what he would get.
“Then someone sent me a phone, and the day after I received it, I got a call. You just have to believe me when I tell you that I don’t know my client. Anyway, he, or she, offered me a lot of money if I would kill Graig. Since he was a bastard, I didn’t have a problem with that.” Marc paused again.
Bailey didn’t say anything, but his thoughts were all over the place. He, too, thought that this Graig person had deserved to die. “Did you kill him instantly, or did you torture him,” Bailey asked. Marc eyed Bailey for a second, then he replied without hesitation, “I killed him with one shot to the head. He died instantly.” “Good,” Bailey softly said. Not that he suddenly condoned the killing, but at least Marc hadn’t tortured the guy.
“As you can guess, I didn’t need the money, and that’s not why I decided to become an assassin. I only took assignments to kill those who deserved to die. When the law let the victims down, I stepped in. I took the payments because no one works for free, not even a rich guy like myself.” Marc said as he stared out of the window.
“So, that’s how you became an assassin?” “Yes.” “Do you know who is after me?” Bailey asked; he already suspected that Marc didn’t know, but he had to ask him anyway. “No, unfortunately, I don’t. If so, then that person or persons would be dead already,” Marc answered honestly. “Okay, so you just kill those who, in your eyes, deserved to die?” Bailey questioned. Marc nodded. “Did you murder Brendan?” Bailey asked in a voice so low that it was a near whisper.
Marc frowned because he hadn’t expected that Bailey would suspect him of killing Brendan. “No, I did not. The way I see it, Brendan was a good guy, and I would never have accepted such an assignment,” Marc answered, and to Bailey, the man sounded sincere. So, he decided to trust Marc regarding Brendan’s death.
Bailey swallowed hard, cleared his throat, and then he softly asked, “Was Alec killed because of you?” The question was so unexpected that Marc was thrown off-kilter by it. After a few seconds, he said, “I honestly don’t know because I never found the guilty ones. So, I couldn’t ask them.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked about Alec,” Bailey said as he put his hands on Marc’s, surprising the assassin with this gesture. Marc then told Bailey everything about how he had found Alec and how he had tried to find the scum who murdered Alec.
Bailey had even gone paler, and tears filled his eyes. “I’m so sorry; I should have kept my mouth shut,” he apologized again. “It was a long time ago. I won’t lie, because when I ever find out who killed Alec, then I will kill them,” Marc said as he slowly rose from his chair and moved toward Bailey.
Marc carefully placed his arm around Bailey’s shoulder; then, he pulled him out of his chair and into his arms. To Marc’s delight, Bailey didn’t protest, and it felt so good to hold the man he loved so much. “I want to know everything there is to know about you,” Bailey mumbled into Marc’s warm muscled chest. “And you will, I promise,” Marc vowed to stay honest and tell Bailey everything that he wanted to know.
Bailey asked about Byron and if he, too, was an assassin. He had been shocked when Marc had told him about the hit on Keith. That Marc didn’t understand why his client had given him the assignment to end Keith’s life. He then told Bailey that after he had refused, they had tried to hire Lucas for the job, and the man, of course, had refused, as well. Then, another assassin was hired, and this one had accepted the job.
“We need to warn Keith because he is in danger,” Bailey was shaking, fear clear in his voice. Marc sighed because now it was about Keith and how the man had kept this from Bailey. “I informed Keith, and that’s why Lucas is here. He told me that after my refusal, another hitman was hired, and he came to warn me about this one. His name was Bobby, and Lucas and I both knew that Bobby killed for pleasure, no matter if the target is an innocent or a scumbag,”
“You just said, knew, as in past tense,” said Bailey. “That’s correct, baby. We made a plan to lure Bobby out of town, and then Lucas put a bullet in his head. Bobby liked to let his targets suffer; he’s a psychopath. So, that Lucas killed him with one shot is more than he gave his victims,” Marc paused, eyeing Bailey intently.
“Thank you,” Bailey softly said, surprising the hell out of Marc because he hadn’t seen that one coming. “For what, baby?” “For saving Keith’s life. He’s a good man, even though he wasn’t honest with me either,” Bailey softly replied. “None of us were because.” “I know, and I do understand,” Bailey interrupted, surprising Marc once again.
Chapter Thirty One
“Do you need more coffee, baby?” Marc asked a yawning Bailey. “I could use one more, thanks,” Bailey replied. They had talked for hours the previous night, and even though Bailey had slept until ten o’clock that morning, he felt tired.
Mario was reading the newspaper he had ordered his bodyguards to buy him several different ones. He always read more than one newspaper. Suddenly the man looked up and straight into Bailey’s eyes. “I want to see your shop, or what’s left of it,” Mario said all of a sudden. Bailey looked thoughtful as if he needed to consider the request. “Alright, but I need to finish my coffee,” he replied. Mario nodded, and then the man’s focus was on the newspaper again he was reading The New York Times.
Bailey was in Marc’s bedroom, which was now theirs, when Marc entered. “Do you need me to go with you?” he offered. “No, I believe Mario when he said that he isn’t here to kill me,” Bailey replied while he finished dressing. He had chosen black jeans with a green turtleneck that made his eyes even look greener.
“You are so beautiful, baby, and you’re mine, all mine,” Marc almost growled as he wrapped his arms around Bailey’s shoulders and pressed Bailey’s back to his firm chest. They stood in front of the full-length mirror, eyeing themselves. “We make a good pair,” said Bailey softly. “That we do, baby. That we do,” Marc replied, and he meant every word.
That they had talked about Alec the previous night hadn’t hurt his heart, but it had angered him that those who had killed Alec still were breathing. “I need to go, my fa. Mario is waiting,” Bailey corrected himself. “Plus, I
’m curious why he wants to see the ruins from what once was my flower shop,” Bailey added.
Mario, his two bodyguards, and Bailey stood in front of what once was the Flower Hut. Rage filled Bailey, which surprised him because he had never felt so furious before. Yes, well, when Brendan was killed, he had felt a rage that had been unknown to him. Now he felt that same rage, and Bailey didn’t like it. He didn’t want to feel the rage and anger when he thought of Brendan or assassins, the Flower Hut, or even his father. It just wasn’t who he was.
“Well, whoever did this, did a damn fine job,” Mario growled; he turned to face Bailey and said. “Do you have insurance so that you can rebuild the shop?” Bailey frowned. “Yes, everything is covered. Next week the construction workers start rebuilding the shop and my apartment,” Bailey replied.
A loud bang sounded, and then one of Mario’s bodyguards went down. “Shit! Get down,” Mario yelled, and he didn’t wait for Bailey to respond, but he dived to the ground, pulling Bailey with him. Bailey landed hard on the pavement, Mario on top of him. “What the hell was that?” he cried out.
“Someone just shot at us, the bastards,” Mario growled; he cursed when he saw one of his bodyguards lying motionless on the ground. The other bodyguard was already on the hunt. It was what Mario had discussed with his two bodyguards if something like this would happen, and one of them went down, the other would immediately take action.
The bodyguard, however, had looked at Mario before he took off. The mob boss was alright and so was his son, so when Mario nodded, the bodyguard had started the hunt.
Bailey dialed the emergency number and told them what had happened because the bodyguard, Brad, needed help, and soon. Bailey was surprised that Mario hadn’t fled the scene. Instead, the man had checked Bailey for injuries and had asked him several times if he really wasn’t hurt. Mario had behaved like a father, so much for the scary mob boss.
“Are you alright? What the hell happened. Mario said that someone shot at you?” Marc was livid. How could this happen? Who was after Bailey and had the nerve to try and kill him even though Mario Delossantos was with him? “I’m fine, thanks to Mario. He threw me to the ground because he reacted way faster than me,” a shaken Bailey answered.
Marc hugged Bailey tightly and was glad that the man still was alive. “Thank you, Mario,” Marc said while he kept Bailey tight to his body. “Well, I reacted on instinct, but I’m glad that I could keep my son safe,” a grim-looking mob boss replied.
Bailey gently pushed Marc away, and then he excused himself. He was shaken and confused about his feelings for not only Marc but for Mario as well. He went to the guest room instead of the bedroom Marc now shared with him. Bailey needed to gather his thoughts and get thoughts in perspective.
He had fallen in love with an assassin, which was so not good. Then there was mob boss Mario Delossantos, his father. Bailey had to admit that he started to like the man, even though he was a ruthless mob boss. Yes, it all had become very confusing, and he needed some alone time, only he knew that at this moment, that wasn’t possible.
Someone was after him, for God only knows what reason, and now was not the time to seek solace. Bailey racked his brain about whom it could be that hated him so much that this person wanted him dead, six feet under. His thoughts wandered off to Brendan and that his brother hadn’t stood a chance against the one who was after them.
Keith had been devastated after Brendan was murdered. Bailey knew that Keith had broken the very rule that a bodyguard never should break. The man had become friends with the brothers, and Keith had become part of Brendan and Bailey’s lives. It was why Bailey knew that Keith’s feelings were genuine. That the man had mourned Brendan, that was real. Bailey also knew that he could count on Keith to have his back and protect him at all times.
“We need to find the ones responsible for this mess because Bailey will be in danger as long as those idiots are roaming the streets,” Mario informed Marc. “I agree. Byron is already hacking every camera in the neighborhood,” Marc replied. Byron knew where to look because the bodyguard that wasn’t hit had been able to pinpoint the direction from where the rifle was fired. Now they hoped to see images they could use, such as identifying the two scumbags who had tried to kidnap Bailey. Because Marc was certain that it was the same two men, and it was about time that they caught them.
Brad, the bodyguard who was shot, had survived but barely. He would be in the hospital for several more weeks. Mario saw to it that the man got the best care possible. It was something that Bailey could appreciate. It seemed that Mario had his people’s back, as long if they had his. This particular bodyguard was with Mario for more than eight years, and Mario trusted Brad completely.
Marc hoped that Dan, the other bodyguard, would find clues, but he doubted that. Then again, these weren’t exactly professionals, so maybe, just maybe, Dan would find something they could work with. Marc had many questions for the two thugs, and after he got his answers, he would kill them. However, he had to catch them first.
“Marc?” By the way that Byron said his name, Marc knew that his brother had found something. Marc went into Byron’s study, he was followed by Mario. “Dan had beneficial information. Here, look at this,” Byron turned and eyed the two men who stood behind him while he showed the footage of the traffic camera. “What an amateur,” Byron mumbled.
The footage showed a man who was running, carrying a large bag. It had to be the shooter; Byron was sure of it because the timeframe was just about right. Marc stared at the monitor, but he didn’t recognize the man. However, Mario, who stood beside Marc, growled. “Well, hell. I know that one,” he said, and he couldn’t have surprised Marc more if his hair had turned purple.
“You do?” “I do; this is Arnulfo Porter,” Mario said, and he sounded angry and something else. Was that pain in the man’s voice? “Who is Arnulfo Porter,” Byron questioned. It took some time before Mario spoke. Yes, the man looked pained, and there was sorrow in his eyes. What the hell was going on?
“Arnulfo Porter is Robert’s right hand,” Mario whispered. “He’s a psychopath and one of the worst I’ve ever met,” Mario added. Everyone was silent after this revelation. Marc was stunned; he knew that Robert was Mario’s eldest son, but he didn’t know much about the man.
“Byron?” “Yes?” “Do you still have that footage from the two other ones?” “Sure do,” Byron said as he rapidly started typing on the keyboard. A few minutes later, they looked at the footage of the two men who had kidnapped Bailey. The monitor showed how Bailey was forced into the trunk of a car by two men.
Marc eyed Mario in question. “I don’t know these two,” the mob boss softly said. Marc believed him because Mario had no reason the lie about that. “Could it be possible that those two are hired by Robert or by Arnulfo?” Marc asked. “I honestly don’t know,” Mario answered truthfully.
Marc could tell that the mob boss was livid. If Robert had ordered the hit on Bailey, and Arnulfo had taken the shot while Mario stood next to Bailey was unforgivable. If so, Robert had betrayed not only his father but the head of the family as well.
Mario eyed Marc for a moment, then he said, “If Robert is behind this, then I will deal with him. It will be me and no one else.” Marc nodded because it was only fair to give the mob boss a chance to punish his son. Still, if Robert Delossantos was behind the actions that killed Brendan, then Mario better kill his son and this Arnulfo person too because if not, Marc would do it for him.
Chapter Thirty Two
Marc was worried because Bailey had been too quiet during breakfast. “Are you alright, baby?” Marc asked as he sat down on the grass next to Bailey. Marc knew that he would find Bailey in the orchard, underneath the peer tree. It had become Bailey’s favorite spot; it was here that he was able to think and put things in perspective. To calm down and find some peace and quiet.
Bailey looked sideways, their eyes locked; he said, “No, I’m not alright. So much has changed, and I’m still confu
sed. I would like to be alone right now if you don’t mind.” Marc, of course, did mind, but he didn’t say that to Bailey. The assassin didn’t have another choice than to leave, which he did.
Assassins the Florist Book One Part One Page 18