Her Hollywood Hitman: A Dark Romantic Suspense (14 page)

I closed my eyes and thought of Red. In my mind, I combed over the details of his body, the perfect angles, each muscle hard and chiseled. It had all happened so fast, me and Red. I had never really thought that we’d build a real relationship, but I’d hoped for a few more days. A few more nights beside him, a few more pieces of pure, perfect satisfaction.

I thought of waking up and taking him inside of me, that feeling of completion. I’d never get it again.
 

The cramps in my arms increased. Pain shot up through my fingers and into my bones. Each jerky movement of my father’s car created more agony.

But still, I was silent. There was nothing to say. I was defeated. Red was defeated. And there wasn’t anything either of us could do about it. Art had us, and he had us good. I imagined Freddy, his gray hands around Red’s neck, the knife at his throat. How would that horrible little man kill Red? He’d had the gun out… but he wouldn’t risk shooting Red there. Not unless he had a silencer.
 

And Red had assured me it would be okay. I read his lips, those beautiful full lips. He had seemed so sure, so certain. Did he know something that I didn’t?

How in the hell did he think that any of this would be okay? He’d end up dead, no matter what. Or so far behind bars that I’d never see him again.

My stomach jumped as we pulled into the parking lot in front of my dad’s house. The car screeched to a halt beside the grand stone steps to his house. I glanced up and saw the intertwining gargoyles on the door, each of the monsters pulling and fighting against each other. A perfect metaphor for my father’s life—he would climb over anyone who got in his way. And here I was, caught up in the mix. You’d think that his daughter would be different, but no. I was just a stepping stone, a player in his game.
 

A pawn
, Red had said. And that’s exactly what I was. I didn’t know what he meant when he’d said it then, but here I was, moved from place to place, just like a chess piece.

“Damn you girl,” he said. My father got out, slamming the door behind him. He opened the passenger side door, then pulled me out and shoved me up the stairs to the house. I squealed in frustration, tearing at the ties that still held my hands. My fingers were going numb, pulsing horribly from sitting on my hands. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, just like your mom. I can’t believe you slept with that animal. A common criminal—”

“One who works for you, Dad. And it was
awesome
. And he’s a far better man than that producer you tried to hook me up with,” I spat. He shoved me down the hall, gripping the tie that still bound my hands. “He’s a hell of a better man than you are too, you nasty old pimp.” He spun me around and raised his hand, bringing it down hard across my cheek.
 

“Watch your mouth, princess. I know you think I won’t hurt you, but I will if you push me far enough. And since it seems that you don’t want a part in the movie I generously offer you up for, well, I can smack your face as hard as I like.” He shoved me up the stairs, and I stumbled along, my bare feet cold against the steps. He pushed me into the room where I kept my stuff. Like I’d thought when I first arrived, none of those rooms were really mine. None of it felt like home. The first place I’d found comfort since I’d gone into my father’s custody was in Red’s arms. I stood, my hands still tied, looking at my father.
 

“That’s just great, Dad. Now I know for sure why Mom left your sorry ass. All of her stories... and I never fully believed her, never thought you could be that cruel.”

“She’s dead now, ain’t she? Can’t come back and tell any more stories, Gabriella. I always thought you were better than she was. But apparently, you aren’t. You’re a slut just like she was.”
 

My father’s bald head turned red, and he rubbed it, grinning. That grin was seared in my mind as he slammed the door to my room, locking it behind him. I screamed, pulling at the ties that bound my hands. The rope held tight.
 

 
I pulled again, trying to move my fingers to reach the ties. But they were numb and fat, unable to reach the knots. The ties were one barrier, the heavy wooden door—now locked—was another. Frantically, I walked over to the window and looked down below. The drop was over forty feet to the stone steps below. My eyes darted around the room, searching for my laptop case. Nothing. He’d already moved it. Even if I
could
get out of my restraints, I couldn’t contact anyone in the outside world. It was hopeless, and I was stuck.

“Of course, you fucker,” I snarled. “Of course. You’ve taken it all away. I shouldn’t be surprised, should I?” I knelt on the floor, heat prickling behind my eyes. The tears came, hot and fast. I sobbed and fell to the floor, resting my face against the soft oriental rug.
 

I wondered if Red would think of me before he died, if he would see my face for even a moment. Because if my father wanted him to die, he would. I could see it in my father’s eyes. He was hell bent on killing the man. The man who knew too much. The man who had kept his secrets for so long.

The man I might never see again.

Red

“As fast as you can get there, Federico,” I muttered. I barely fit in the passenger’s side of Freddy’s Civic, but it’d have to do. The Aston was somewhere out in the desert, and the two goons were probably still with it, wondering if they could get it to work. Freddy pulled out of the garage and rolled toward the hills. Toward Gabi.
 

I closed my eyes and thought of her, that beautiful woman. She’d crept into my life and taken me by surprise. And now, how would I live without her? I had one opportunity to get this all right, to prove to her that I was worthy of the love she’d bestowed on me, a washed up criminal.

“Take it around back, Freddy,” I said. My body was strung tight as a cord, stretched almost to breaking. I wasn’t risking only my life by going back to Art now. I was risking Gabi’s too—but it was the only way to save her, the only way to make sure she was truly okay. If Art kept hold of her, he’d use her up or hurt her. I leaned down in the car, folding my body almost in half, trying to hide from the prying eyes of Art and his loyal followers. I closed my eyes and thought of Rose, her body lifeless and bloody that night. I’d helped him cover up the crime, and I’d committed many more, trying to protect myself.
 

I wouldn’t let Gabi end up the same way. She wouldn’t fall victim the same way her mother did. She was stronger, more invested in the world... and she deserved to become the woman she was meant to be.
 

To pull this off, I couldn’t let Art see me. I couldn’t let him hear me in the house, couldn’t let him get wind of my continued existence.
 

“We here, Red.” Federico looked over at me and motioned for me to get my ass up and out of the car. I opened the door and slipped out, crouching down and running for the back entrance of the house. Freddy stepped out of the car and walked behind me, giving me a curt nod. He walked in the back entrance before me, his gun slung casually on his hip. I touched my own gun, holstered at my hip. I gulped. I’d gone into situations like this a thousand times for Art, but I’d never stood up to the man who had brought me across the country to Los Angeles. If it weren’t for him, I’d be locked up... or far worse.
 

“Think of Gabi,” I whispered to myself. There was nothing else to concentrate on, only her beautiful face. I listened for the signal from Freddy, clearing my mind of all the distracting bullshit I couldn’t let get to me. I heard the knock on Art’s office door, and I crept inside. The quintessential California estate. It should have been a beautiful home, full of happiness and family. But instead, it housed an evil, spiteful man who denied his family, the very people who shared his name. Dust floated in the late morning light, settling on the polished hardwoods and the bright oriental rugs that Art favored. I listened intently, crouching by the back stairs. Gabriella was up there, in the room at the top of the stairs, tied up and helpless. It took all of my concentration to stay where I was, not to rush up and kick down the door to her room, take her into my arms and never let her go. After a moment had passed, I heard the harsh tones of Freddy’s Boston accent.
 

“Yep, took care of him, boss. Everything should be fine. Yep, called in the cleaner to take the body out to the desert. Clean as a whistle...” Freddy’s voice trailed off, and I heard Art talking, though I couldn’t quite make out the words.
 

“Nah, man,” said Freddy. “As long as you get the paperwork in order to make it look like he disappeared, the accounts will go over to you. You’re a co-signer. With him out of the picture, you’ll get full access.” Art made a satisfied sound. Freddy walked into the hall and closed the door to Art’s office. I thought of the little fucker, his grubby hands on my hard-earned cash, the money I’d saved and invested over twelve years. I’d only been eighteen when Art had hired me, and he’d co-signed on each account. I was too young and stupid to know what he was doing back then, and I’d been too afraid of him to take care of it in the years since. Besides, there was nothing to live for really, nothing to spend my money on.
 

Freddy looked both ways down the hall and nodded firmly in my direction. He put his hand to his gun and stood silently outside of Art’s office. That’s where Freddy spent most of his days anyway. Even if the boss left the office for whatever reason, he wouldn’t realize that anything was amiss.

Taking a deep breath, I climbed the stairs, trying to avoid the spots I knew would creak. At the upstairs landing, I crept across the hallway to Gabriella’s room and lifted my hand above the doorframe to check for the key that Art kept above the doors to each of his rooms.
 

“Fuck,” I sighed. It wasn’t there, and I couldn’t alert Gabriella to my presence, or I would risk making her scream. I felt in my pocket and felt the bobby pin that Gabriella had left behind at my house. “Goddamn,” I muttered, slipping the pin into the lock and jiggling it slightly. I heard faint movements downstairs, and the adrenaline coursed through my veins, sweat beading on my forehead. I moved the bobby pin in just a little further and felt something give. Gently I opened the door and scanned the room for Gabriella.
 

She was sitting, crouched by the window, her hands still tied.
 

“Red,” she muttered, looking up at me. “What are you doing?” Her voice came out in a harsh whisper. “He’ll kill you! He will! Get the hell out of here... I can take care of myself...” She choked back a sob and looked down at the floor. Unable to restrain myself, I stumbled across the floor and gathered her into my arms. I tugged and tore at the restraints, noting the coldness in her fingers—the blood wasn’t flowing like it should, and soon, her hands would be damaged. I took my knife out of my pocket and cut away the ties. The ropes cut in two and fell away. Her skin was cut and bruised where the restraints had eaten into her flesh. But tentatively, slowly, she moved her fingers.

I took her hands in mine. “Are you okay?” I could almost feel the blood rushing back to her hands, the warmth flowing back in.
 

She nodded and threw her arms around me. I kissed her forehead and cradled her in my arms, drawing her closer and holding her as tight as I ever held anyone.
 

“How the hell did you get away from that guy?”
 

“He’s with the FBI and has been working with the LAPD for the past three years,” I whispered. “He’ll get us out of this. Or I pray to fucking God he will. He has people coming to arrest Art, and I’m going to get you the hell out of here, as far away as possible.”

“But how... how do we get out without him knowing?”

“Freddy’s got the door. Come on, the sooner the better, Gabi.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her up, motioning for her to be quiet. She tiptoed behind me, still holding on to my hand. We started down the stairs, going one step at a time. I could hear Gabi’s labored breathing behind me, rapid and increasing. I wanted to turn to her, to hold her. But there was no time, no space to comfort her. We slipped down the next two steps, and she stumbled. The stair creaked, protesting her misstep. And we stood, quiet, waiting. There were no sounds in the hallway, but I couldn’t see any sign of Freddy, not from where I stood. I tugged on Gabriella’s hand and pulled her down another stair. I heard her breathing increase again, but she followed, stepping slowly.

One stair from the bottom, and the hallway was quiet.
 

I turned to her and pulled her into a silent kiss. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for this woman. Here I was, risking everything. I didn’t care about myself anymore. There was something bigger, something more to life than saving my own ass over and over again. There was this beautiful woman, someone better than me. Someone who
made
me a better man.
 

I gripped her hand and we stepped down into the foyer. The hallway was empty, Freddy nowhere in sight. My pulse increased, my body on high alert.

Something isn’t right.
 

Acting on instinct, I pulled Gabriella down the hall and threw open the back door. The sunlight blinded me for a moment and we both closed our eyes.
 

I smiled. We were free. But then there was a point of cool metal pushed against my temple.
 

And from the angle, it was someone a damn lot shorter holding the gun.

Gabriella

When we stepped outside, I nearly rejoiced with freedom. After being trapped and moved around so many times, I’d be on my way soon. And I could figure out what Red and I would do. If I could convince him to run with me... We’d be safe. The bright sunlight cascaded across the patio, reflecting off the smooth surface of the lap pool that my father never used. I turned to Red and pulled his hand hard, trying to get him to move toward Freddy’s car.