Her Hollywood Hitman: A Dark Romantic Suspense (9 page)

Compact semi-automatic. Goddammit
.

“I ain’t joking. I’ll shoot her dead. Boss won’t care too much, long as we got what we came for.”

“Cut it out,” said the wiry man. Al turned back and stuffed the gun back in his jeans.
 

A stupid man. The wiry one has the brains, but he’s not as strong as the big one. The big one probably knows how to work a gun, but he’s not quick.
 

“I got what you came for,” I said. I nodded toward the suitcase on top of my car. “You want me to open it, show you the bills?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Al, grinning.

“That’s not necessary,” said the little man. He held out his hand and darted his eyes around nervously. I picked up the suitcase and stepped toward him, but just as I did, I saw the thick, dark curls of Gabi’s hair at the back window of the van. She shook her head slowly and pointed at the two men. The short man reached out his hand and grabbed the edge of the case.

“Come on now, man. Hand it over,” he said. Gabi’s mouth opened in a scream and she banged at the window. The air stilled again.
 

Something isn’t right.
Even through the van’s dark windows, I could hear her cries, even through the makeshift gag over her mouth. I dropped the case, and it flew open. A spray of dollar bills poured out and caught the wind, flying into the desert. Beneath the bills were sheets of white copy paper.

Gabi’s muffled shouts reached my ears, but the other two men didn’t seem to comprehend. Al and the other man looked back toward the van. In that one moment, time slowed. I stepped forward and grabbed the gun from Al’s jeans, warm and sweaty from his skin. I smashed it against the back of the short man’s head, knocking him to the ground. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and I hit him again before Al could turn around. Taking aim, I shot Al in the leg. He brought his hand to the wound, and blood pooled under his fingers. He fell to the ground, Gabi screaming in the background. I rushed to the van and swung the passenger door open, propelling myself into the driver’s seat just as I slammed the door behind me. I started the rusty old thing and drove up to the Aston.
 

“I’ll miss you baby, but I think someone will be looking for you.” I rolled the window down and leaned out of it. Taking a deep breath, I shot out the tires. “May the desert keep you well.” I sped off in the van. The two men lay on the ground, the short one passed out, and the taller one in agony. “I won’t kill you just yet. You’ll need to tell Art to come and get you…”
 

I sped off toward the east. Cell reception was dead in that section of the park. The two men would have to hobble their way to a gas station several miles up the road. And if they lived the night, they would.
 

If they didn’t, well, I’d go find Art myself.

But for now, we were as safe as we could be. Gabi groaned and rolled her eyes in the back seat.

“Sorry, baby. You look good all tied up. We’ll get you sorted at the next inconspicuous place.”
 

And maybe, for one night, we’d have a moment together before everything went to hell.
 

Gabriella

When Red pulled over to cut the zip ties on my wrists, he kissed me, deep and hard, pushing me against the van. The California wind whipped around us as night fell over the dead zone between Joshua Tree and Los Angeles. As soon as his lips parted from mine, hot tears came to my eyes.
 

“Red! It’s Dad. It’s Art. He’s using me… and you. He doesn’t give a shit about me, about either of us.” I leaned into Red’s shirt, my tears making streaks down the fine blue fabric. I melted into him and threw my arms around his back, sobbing. The heaviness of my life had fallen back on me, hard and horrible.
 

“It’s okay, Gabi. I’ll turn Art in for what he did—”

“You mean, hurting my mother? Killing her?” I looked up at him. His deep blue eyes settled on mine. He was silent for a moment. “
Did
he do it? You know something, don’t you? You always did!” I beat against his chest with one hand. The emotion was rising in me like a tide, as uncontrollable as the sea. It was all beginning to sink in.

“How in the hell did you know that? What did you find? How do you know?” He grabbed my arms and clutched hard, but his grip softened immediately.
 

“Did you have something to do with it? You were here. You were working for my father then!” I sobbed, and he pulled me into him.
 

“No, no, no. I didn’t. I was with him when… when he moved her. I’m the only witness.” He smoothed his hand over my hair. Red hugged me tight, encasing me in his arms with the strength and tenderness he possessed. I sighed but choked again, still racked with sobs. “You need time, Gabi. Time to understand this.”

“Oh God, oh God, oh God. Thinking of her like that… my father… I can’t…”

“Shh, Gabi. You sleep now. And soon, we’ll be home.”
 

I nodded, my face still pressed into my shirt. Gently, he guided me back to the passenger’s side of the car and helped me in. “You mean, your home?”

“I’m not taking you back to Art,” he said. He buckled himself in and started the van. It rumbled away, creaky and protesting, but bound for Los Angeles again. “Besides, it’ll take those goons a while to get back to Art. We’re okay for right now. Trust me.”

“I do,” I said, leaning my head against the seat. I grabbed one of the bottles of water the men had carried in the car and drank it down in its entirety before closing my eyes and drifting off as we crossed the desert.

Red

“You shouldn’t,” I said. But she was already asleep, her thick curls framing that beautiful face. Those deep brown eyes closed and dreaming, hopefully of better days.
 

I thought of Rose. Rosalind Dawson, the Hollywood Rose. She had been so beautiful, so like Gabi, but delicate in a way that Gabi wasn’t. Even as little as I knew Rose, I couldn’t imagine her beating at the car window and screaming through a gag. But God. That awful day. That day when Art had called me. The bastard’s voice was as even as ever.

Red, we’re moving a body tonight.
 

“A body,” he’d said. As cold and as simple as that. The damn man had beaten her to death. I was younger then, and I’d retched into the bushes. I’d been doing the man’s dirty work for six years, but nothing could top what he’d done to Rose, beautiful Rose. The mother of his child. He’d done his best to cover it up and make it look like a jealous lover who fled in the night. And hell, that’s exactly what it was. Art was a jealous, spiteful man. He’d beaten his wife to death, and now he’d offered his daughter up as a pawn in some scheme to get to my money.
 

“Fucking asshole,” I muttered. “Let a man control you, and this is exactly what you get.” I looked over at Gabi, who was so unlike the man who had paid me to work for him for so many years. A plan was forming in my mind, and if it went the way I wanted, Art and I would probably both go to jail. The cops from Queens would find me, and I’d lose the protection Art’s criminal ties had given me for so long. But it was worth it if I could get the scumbag out of Gabi’s life. A surge of protectiveness washed over me.

“Ain’t no woman ever done this to me,” I said. I drove on through the night, passing through the cold, dark desert and then into the suburbs that surrounded Los Angeles. We’d be back to my place soon, and I’d be able to protect her for a short while. Her father wouldn’t suspect that she would be tucked away safe at my place while it all went down… not until it was too late for him, anyway. And maybe, just maybe, I’d have one night to spend with her. I drove on, thinking about the gorgeous woman next to me. I could sink into her curves and keep coming back for more all of my life. I shook my head as the bright lights of Los Angeles greeted me. No one had ever affected me this way. No one at all.
 

After I got Gabi back to my place, I could clean her up, get her some food. And if the gods were kind, I could tuck in next to her in bed. Not expecting anything more than to hold her, of course. I might have some explaining to do if my cock got wind of my plans and started to rise without my consent. But to hold her, bury my face in her neck, kiss the curve of her shoulder… that was the only thing I needed to get my strength up for the days ahead. That woman, at once so delicate and so strong, had undone me. She’d made me start to tick again in a world where I thought I was long dead.
 

I pulled into the traffic of the city. The endless wave of cars was lighter at this time of night, but Los Angeles was always filled with some kind of activity. If New York was the city that never slept, L.A. was its less beautiful, Pacific cousin, with all of the sleeplessness and none of the charm. After nearly an hour, I drove into the parking garage, hoping beyond hope that those two damn idiots wouldn’t find a way back to the city before noon the next day. Art took a sleeping pill each night and zonked out until nine each morning. He’d be headed out to Joshua Tree if he hadn’t heard from them, but it would be late afternoon before any of that happened. I sighed and guided my van into the space next to the elevator.
 

“Gabi,” I whispered. “Gabi, wake up. Gabriella.” I touched her shoulder, a jolt running through me as my fingers brushed against her smooth, warm skin. Fuck, she was perfect. She was still wearing the dress she’d picked for our date—another flowing little dress that showed off her curves. Desire coursed through me, and I had to look away from her for a moment.

“Mmmm. Just let me sleep here in the car. I don’t want to move.”
 

“We gotta get you cleaned up and out of this damn garage, baby. I can carry you.” I looked to her again and saw her brown eyes focused on mine. There were flecks of gold at the center of her irises. Everything about her was warm and bright. In those eyes, I saw my
reason
. My reason for saving her, my reason for sacrificing myself. On impulse, I leaned in and kissed her, unbuckling my seatbelt to get closer to her. Her soft mouth opened against mine, and I could feel her deep-rooted need, as uncontrollable as my own. If she did let me in bed with her, well, I didn’t know how well-behaved I would be. Probably not at all.

“Yes, carry me,” she murmured. I got out of the van and picked up her sleepy body, holding her against me like a child. Her tender sweetness made me want to take her right there. But I carried Gabi, her head against my shoulder, to the elevator and up the floors to my apartment. I brought her in and laid her on the bed. Her eyes fluttered open again.
 

“That was an awfully exciting date,” she said, smiling. She kicked off her shoes. “And I’m so very, very sleepy.” She yawned.

“We need to get you clean. Get that damn cut on your head bandaged.”

She raised up on her elbows and looked me dead in the eye, a storm brewing behind her countenance. “I need you, Red.”
 

I groaned, and my eyes were again drawn to her sumptuous body. She crossed her legs, and I thought of making her come, how it had seemed to still time for me. Touching her had felt like coming home, and everything in me wanted it again. With the adrenaline that had coursed through me in the past twenty-four hours, my body was at full alert. The exhaustion heightened my arousal.

“I think you can take care of it, Gabi.”

She shook her head. She lifted herself and brought her hands around to unzip the back of her dress. The fabric fell away from her body, and she shimmied out of it. The dress fell to the floor. She was wearing only her lingerie—a lacy gold bra and matching panties. She grinned and giggled.
 

“You’re playing with fire, girl. What the hell do you want with a man like me?”
 

“I want you to make me forget,” she said. Her face turned serious for a moment, and she bit her lip. She sat and crossed her legs, tossed her hair to the side. “This world, I want it to fade out for a moment before we have to face tomorrow. I want to pretend that everything is okay. That none of this happened. That it’s only you and me.”

Unable to resist, I went to her. I pressed my lips to hers, searching, melting into her, discovering the edges of my desire. I gathered her into my arms and lifted her like I had before. Her skin was hot against mine.
 

“You need to bathe. Drink water. Eat,” I said. She nodded and found my mouth with hers again. I carried her to the bathroom and sat her down. I brought my hands to the straps of her bra and traced my fingers over the silky fabric, down to the clasp. I unhooked the bra, and her breasts fell free. I brought my hands to her panties and pulled them down roughly. I groaned. It was hell to restrain myself, but caring for her came first. It came before anything. She sighed, naked before me. I lifted her again and put her into the shower, sober this time. She turned the water on and let it run over her. I watched as she soaped herself, and I leaned in to kiss her before she closed the door.
 

“You can take it from here this time, Gabi.”
 

“You won’t be joining me?” Through the glass, I saw her gently wash out the wound on her head. It had already started to scab over and would heal without much of a trace. Still, I clenched my fists, regretting that I didn’t put a bullet in the head of both of those horrible men.

“I need to cool off so that I take care of you, Gabi.” My eyes flickered over her body again. She spread suds over her round, full breasts and down to the dark thatch between her legs. I moaned softly and pulled myself away from her. I walked out of the room and tried to shake myself free from the want, the miserable, aching need. Some minutes later, she came out of the room wrapped in one of my fluffy white towels.
 

“I’m all clean now,” she said, yawning. I stood and wrapped my arm around her, guiding her over to the bed. Droplets of water clung to her thick curls.
 

“You eat this toast. It’s buttered. And then sleep.” She sank into the bed and dutifully ate her toast. After taking a sip of water, she lay back in bed and closed her eyes.