Her Hollywood Hitman: A Dark Romantic Suspense (16 page)

“Yeah, I said all this to Freddy when he took my statement. I knew Art had poisoned her, and I knew he killed her. I didn’t know what he poisoned her with. Just that he had.” Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, my pulse growing rapid. The fluorescent light flickered in the room, and the cop remained silent for a moment.
 

“You were seventeen when you met Art. Is that right?”

“Fourteen, actually. He worked with my father and gave me the odd job here and there.” The cop nodded.

“A dirty cop? I’m sorry you had to see that as a kid.” I nodded and gulped. The feeling of that night came back to me, rushing through my body, making each hair stand on end. In all the years that followed, I could conjure that feeling of pressing my thumbs into my father’s windpipe while he slept. “Federico told us all that you were a good man.”

“I’m sure he’s wrong about that,” I said. I laughed grimly.
 

“Well, he’s pretty sure you are. Said that everything you’ve done has been under Art’s command. That Art groomed you from a very young age, and he’d convinced you to kill your father. Is that true?”

“Maybe it is. He was more like a father to me than my own dad was. But I made that choice to attack my father. I was the one who killed him.”

“Not so fast, Redmond,” Aiken said. “I had one of my people in New York look back through the autopsy files for your dad. McGuire, right?” I nodded. “It looks like there was poison found in his system, nothing they’d seen before back in 2003. Similar to rohynol, but it looks like that’s your boy’s signature move. The choking, Red, that was done after your father passed away. But you were never around to see the files, to find out about the case.” My throat closed, my heart beating hard, pounding in my ears.
 

“What are you saying?”

“It doesn’t look like it was you. Seems like Art tricked you into believing you killed your father. And you spent all these years--twelve years is it now?--thinking that you’d done it. Seems like your father, God rest his soul, was a man who had it coming to him. But it was Art that done it. Not you.”
 

“Jesus,” I muttered.
 

“And if we can get you on the docket as a material witness to put Art away for good, we’ll get you off with probation.”

“I don’t think I understand--“

“You thought you were coming in here to be the sacrificial lamb. Well, my man, it seems like you’re off pretty free. As long as you don’t leave the state.” The officer grinned. The beads of sweat felt cold and clammy against my forehead. I gulped again and leaned back in the chair. My body was wound as tight it as it was when I’d gone to save Gabi. I’d been living all these years with the thought that I’d killed my father. “You there, young man?”
 

“Yes, this is quite a lot to take in.” I ran my fingers through my hair and leaned over on the table, head in my hands.
 

“That’s it, young man. You can go for now. And we’ll expect you to cooperate with the trial. But the case is pretty cut and dried, even if Art doesn’t confess.” I heard a banging on the door that led out to the station. The lilt of Gabriella’s voice was on the other side of the door. The cop sighed and stood up.
 

“Hold your horses there, young lady.” He turned to me. “She’s been out there, asking about you, you know.” It felt like years since I’d really smiled, since I’d given myself over to the hope of a future. I’d had nothing that made me want to smile, nothing that had given me hope. But on the other side of that door was a woman who did all that for me. The cop opened the door and Gabi rushed in.

“You can’t keep him here,” she said, panting hard. “He saved my life.” She grabbed onto my arm and I pulled her into me.

“Gabi, it’s okay. They’re letting me off right now. I just have to testify. That’s all.”

“That’s it, young lady,” the cop said. Gabi looked at me with wide eyes.
 

“Is that true? Red, is that true?” Her voice was raspy, and I could see that she’d been crying. I brushed my hand over her cheek, relishing the feeling of her so close to me.
 

“We’re free, baby. We’re done with it.”

“That can’t be, Red. It can’t—”

“It was Art. He was the one who killed my father.”
 

She sobbed and leaned into me, clutching my shirt. “What... God, oh God. You’re innocent. You’re innocent!” She looked up at me and beamed. Her eyes, so often sad, sparkled and shone.
 

“Gabriella, let’s go while the getting’s good.” I put my arm around her and nodded to the cop. “I’d better get out of here before they change their mind.” I led Gabi away from the station and out into the bright sunlight.
 

“Guess I’m driving this time.” She gestured to her Audi. “You’re completely free?”

“Probably probation. I think they’re just happy I helped them bring that asshole in.” She nodded. I looked her over. She was dressed in dark jeans and a flowing purple blouse. Her curves were under there, filling out each piece of her clothing. But this somehow seemed to be suit her better than any of the expensive dresses Art had gotten designed for her. “You look beautiful.” I grabbed her there in the dusty parking lot and drew her in and kissed her, the touch of her soft lips lighting me on fire from the inside. When I tasted her breath, it tasted like mine, and I thought that I might fall into her and consume her completely. I kissed her once more, softly, slowly. And then I pulled away and watched her smile, brighter than the California sun.
 

After all, we had our whole lives ahead of us. And we weren’t about to spend the best moments standing outside of a police station.

Red

“Did I ever tell you I can actually cook?”

“That toast you made me was delicious. But no, you didn’t tell me that you could cook,” she said, unpacking the few pictures she’d brought from home. I saw her pick up a framed photograph of her and Rose. She was a girl, no older than six or seven, sitting in her mother’s lap. Rose held her close. Even from that photograph, so very long ago, it was easy to tell who she would look like. She put the photo on the kitchen counter. “Are we cooking tonight? I’m sick of going out to restaurants.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of the Indian food in Berkeley,” I said, laughing. “But I do make a mean chicken cordon bleu. You might like it. We could go down to the market, get some fresh produce, make a big salad…”

“Yes, yes absolutely. But don’t you have to go down for the deposition tomorrow?”
 

“Yeah,” I said, catching her arm and pulling her towards me. “But I’ll take the train. It’s not until the late afternoon. I can sleep on the train.”

“I
should
be studying for the anatomy midterm,” she said, smiling. So smart, so pretty. I kissed her hard and ran my hands over her back. Here in Berkeley, she wore soft, drapey shirts and tight jeans. Just as sexy as her designer L.A. dresses, but more beautifully
her
. Unafraid, finally home.
 

“Isn’t that next week?” I raised an eyebrow.
 

“Mmm, I guess. But it doesn’t hurt to get ahead just a little.” She tried to turn away to go back to sorting through the pictures. I looked around the house we’d purchased two weeks after moving here. It wasn’t luxurious, not in the way that my penthouse had been, not dark and cavernous the way Art’s house was. It was filled with
light
, the exposed beams on the ceiling painted white, the windows tall and long. There was even a backyard with a stone patio and a raised garden bed that Gabriella had immediately filled with herbs and vegetables.
 

“We’re plenty ahead. And besides, I can help you study for anatomy.” I kissed her again and then pulled my gray t-shirt off over my head. Gabi had given me plenty of shit about not wearing suits in Berkeley, but the truth is, I didn’t feel like it anymore. After all, I was retired. And as a retired man, I was planning to tend my garden, make meals for my woman. And maybe, after she’d graduated from medical school, we’d see about kids. The very thought of it made my heart skip a beat. The family neither of us had ever had.
 

“Damn, boy. Don’t do this to me.” She put her hands over her face. “I thought I was over this fever!”

I unbuckled my jeans and slipped them off. I stepped to Gabi and brought her hand to my cock. It stiffened under her long, elegant fingers. In the months since we’d moved to Berkeley, she’d gained even more confidence, learning how to please me with her hands, her sweet, soft tongue. She grabbed me and stroked me through my briefs, slipping the fingers of her other hand in the waistband and pulling them down. Increasing her speed, she worked my cock, her fingers soft and velvety, her skin cool.
 

“Oh God, Gabi,” I groaned. She moved her thumb over the head of my cock again and again, making me pant. She stepped away and pulled off her shirt. Unhooking her bra, she let her breasts fall free. And standing there before me, she circled her small, dark nipples with her fingers, sighing and gasping.
 

“So this is an anatomy lesson, Red? You going to tell me about the weight and volume of my tits?” She lowered her hands and unhooked her jeans. I brought my hand to my cock and stroked myself. Watching her was the best aphrodisiac I’d ever known. And to think, I could have her whenever I wanted her. I could make her scream out with pleasure, pin her down and taste her sweetness every day. She pulled her panties off with her jeans, even more beautiful than she had been on the night we were first together. I went to her and lifted her onto the kitchen island. She yelped and kissed me, her legs wrapped around my waist.

“That’s a lesson for another time. Right now, let me tell you about tall men. Our anatomy is very particular.” I brought my hand between her legs, and rubbed my fingers on either side of her sex, carefully avoiding her clit. “Fuck, baby, you’re already wet,” I said, licking my lips. “Goddamn.” She moaned, trying to press herself against my hand, but I pushed her away. I moved my finger up and around her clit, barely stroking the edges of it.
 

“Wha… what about your anatomy? You were going to give me a lesson…” She leaned her head back, her breath catching in her throat. I flicked my finger over her clit. Once, twice, three times. “Ohh, oh God,” she moaned, her voice throaty.
 

“The thing about tall guys, this is the perfect height—” I slipped the head of my cock inside of her, parting her open and holding myself at the entrance. “For fucking beautiful women.”
 

Gabriella

Red thrust inside of me all at once, his cock filling me to the hilt. In the past few weeks, I’d gotten used to his size. But every time he pushed his cock inside of me, I felt stretched to the brink, like he might break me. It was like that fear I’d had when I first came home to Los Angeles—that I’d fall in love with the danger of life there, that I’d get addicted to it. Well, I had. But it wasn’t in the form I’d expected.

“You like that, beautiful?” I bit my lip and tightened my thighs around his waist. Red’s hips rocked against mine, moving in agonizingly slow circles. His movements were slight at first, building in intensity with each small thrust. Hitting against my clit with each thrust, he ignited the spark of hot desire in my body.

“Yeah,” I moaned, trying to rock closer to him.
 

“Be a good girl and let me make you come. No impatience, baby. Trust me.” Pulling back, he rammed into me hard and grabbed my hips. I put my arms behind me and watched as he filled me again and again. My sex pulsed, wanting more, needing more, begging to be filled like only he could do. “Gabi, baby, you’re so wet.” His voice rasped, full of lust. He buried himself deep inside, his hips meeting mine, each thrust meeting my clit and sending hot waves of pleasure through my thighs and into my belly.
 

“Oh God, Red,” I whimpered. It was all too much, too perfect, and I didn’t want to come yet.
 

“Touch yourself for me, Gabi,” he said. He slowed his pace and raised one hand to my breast, palming it, tracing his fingers over my nipples. Little shocks seared through my nervous system, creating a perfect circle of arousal. I almost couldn’t respond, couldn’t will myself to move from my position. But I loved to obey Red, loved for him to watch me. I lowered my hand to my pussy, finding the button of my clit, the space between our bodies tight and hot. I stroked myself, and the pressure inside of me rose until it could no longer be denied. “You want to come for me baby?”
 

“Yes, please.” My voice was barely a whisper. He started fucking me again, his movements so drawn out that the world seemed to be going in slow motion around me.

“Not just yet,” he said. Raising one hand, he gripped me hard on the waist. I thought for a moment, through the haze of lust, about the past months of my life. Before Red, I’d never met a man that made me want this. And before him, I’d never wanted a real relationship. We had put each other in danger. Our romance had been a whirlwind, but in the end, we’d saved each other.
 

Red increased his speed, thrusting with a rhythm so natural that it feels like we’re thinking with one mind, our bodies fused in perfect harmony. I pressed my fingers into my clit, and each movement of Red’s body came down against my hand, bringing me higher and higher until I’m lost in sensation. The coil inside of me tightened, needy, desperate, on edge.

“Please,” I begged, as he pumped into me faster, his body tensing in time with my own. “Please, Red, let me come.”
 

“Come on my cock, Gabi.” His words were dirty, but they came out with aching, gentle sexiness. If it were six months before, I would have blushed hard, and my body would have frozen completely. But in that moment, with Red, I knew I could open my body, my heart, release myself fully with him. The coil tensed to its peak, and I pulled my hand away from my clit.
 

“Oh
fuck
,” I groaned. I came, closing my eyes, fire and light exploding through my mind, and then slower, winding through every inch of my body. The orgasm centered on the length of Red’s cock, filling my pussy again and again, but it shattered through me in rambling waves, everywhere all at once. A whimper escaped my throat, desperate, unconscious, and I cried out. I tensed around his cock, closing my eyes. He pumped into me harder, slamming into my body again and again, losing the slow, controlled movements he’d teased me with before.