Her Hollywood Hitman: A Dark Romantic Suspense (2 page)

“Sure, whatever,” I spat. “I’ll go study and… um, I’ll come back later. Your business always takes priority.”

“Don’t worry, Gabriella. No problem.” Dad smiled again, this time more genuine. The golden-haired man stood and turned toward me, his blue eyes locked on mine. “Oh… uh, this is Redmond North, one of my… employees,” he added. “He’s a man of means himself, but let’s just say he enjoys his work.” Dad cackled, and my blood ran cold.
 

My breath caught in my throat. The man stood nearly a head taller than me, and his body was broad and muscular, in a way that most of the boys I knew at Berkeley were definitely not. His strawberry blond hair highlighted the blond freckles on his chiseled, Roman face. His eyes were the only deviation—steely, cold blue, boring right through me. That cold look made my heart skip a beat, and I almost backed away from him in some primal reaction of fear.
 

“People call me Red.” He smiled. The smile lit him up, softening the hard lines of his face. He offered his hand and I took it, still unable to respond. The warmth and strength of his touch shot through to my core, my body reaching out to his. The reaction felt entirely against my will, like it was something I had no choice about. They say that you can’t help who you’re attracted to, and you definitely can’t. I could plainly see that he was arrogant, broken, criminal. But when his hand touched mine, that thing that happens between a man and a woman… that urge, the longing for more, for touch and release, the
need
to join my body with another… it happened. Gooseflesh rose over my skin, and a rush of desire slid through my body. I gulped.

I looked at Red’s face. Even though he was maybe ten years older than I was, his eyes made him seem years beyond his age. His face was a study in hard lines and scars, so tiny that most people wouldn’t notice them. Heat pooled between my legs, like I was being lit on fire from the inside. If I could have stopped it, I would have. But there was no stopping this. It would have been like stopping the tides, or the rush of a summer storm.
 

Suddenly, I gasped, my hair standing on end. It was
him
.
 

This was the man my mother had warned me about years ago.
 

The man that did my father’s dirty work. His hitman.
 

Red

“Alright, boss,” I said absently, my consciousness still blurry from Art’s shindig the night before. His daughter was coming into town or something, and the slimy old producer had used her impending arrival as a reason to invite every “up and coming” starlet in Hollywood to his place. The whole thing was a mess of drunken girls, each one skinnier than the last, overly impressed with Art’s suits and his collections of platinum albums and weird expensive samurai shit.
 

I was always Art’s muscle, and hell, it wasn’t a half-bad job, even knowing what I knew about the nasty old man. I wasn’t doing anything my mother would be proud of, but he was the kind of man who paid a seven-figure salary to keep his Hollywood kingdom rolling. And for that kind of green, I wasn’t one to question his decisions. No matter how illegal, immoral, or disgusting.
 

“Red, are you listening? You drink too much last night?” Art chuckled and leaned back in his office chair. The sky was stark blue, blurry with Los Angeles heat and haze. But otherwise, there wasn’t a damn cloud to be seen.
 

“Something like that,” I mumbled, pulling at my tie. For a strawberry-blond Irish kid from Queens, I stuck out like a sore thumb in L.A. But for some reason, Art’s girls seemed to like me just fine. I’d paid off a couple of them to leave me alone last night, and Art was none the wiser. Hell, I was tempted. But there was the small issue of a guy from the FBI wanting to talk to me. My gut had twisted up in all directions when I met with the fool. I’d never give anything up on Art—he knew too much about me, had access to every single account I had. He’d crush me if he even smelled a wire.

“Maggie and Venus took good care of you last night, huh,” he said, more of a statement than a question. “The infamous Red, fucking and fighting like his life depended on it.”

I grinned halfheartedly. In my line of work, settling down wasn’t really an option, and certainly not now. Not with the threat of being exposed. And if it was, it was a dangerous one. For a lot of reasons. Art didn’t wait for an answer. He never did. The rich little fuck rubbed his hand over his bald head, and he had that look on his face like he was working something out. I shifted in my chair and looked down. I’d need to run from Los Angeles, and soon. It had been a good twelve years here, but I’d started to draw attention. And as soon as Art found that shit out, I’d be fucking finished.

“There’s a few guys I
owe
a little bit to. Some people with the cartel. Now, you know I got the money, but I’m not really keen on digging into the offshore accounts to get the shit taken care of,” said Art, rubbing his head like he was trying to generate good luck. “I need you to take care of those guys, Red. They’re out-of-towners. They got no idea how it works around here, not in L.A. I think it might be easy for them to get confused, get lost somehow… not make it back home to their own little empires.” There was something in his face, something secret, hidden. A chill ran over me. I couldn’t afford any sort of involvement with the cartel, not before the FBI figured out who I
really
was. And fuck, it was only a matter of time.

“You don’t normally mess with shit like this, Art.” I tried to keep the worried look off of my face. I didn’t mind collecting money from the folks Art had under his protection, and I didn’t mind getting Art’s girls out of the ridiculous bullshit they got themselves into. Drugs and “entertaining” high-rolling directors and leading men. I could deal with black eyes and overdoses any day. And the occasional disposal of a criminal piece of Hollywood trash who wouldn’t be missed. But eliminating people involved with a cartel? That wasn’t a normal beatdown or even a clean kill. It left me exposed in a way I couldn’t afford. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. I’d have to do it, for now. After that, I was heading for the fucking hills.

“Maybe I’m expanding my horizons,” he said.
 

I might get well and truly fucked up in the line of duty, but Art had deep pockets. And it was easy for me to turn on the cool. To tune out any of the emotional shit that went along with running art’s Hollywood empire. Art kept my bank account
very
full, and I turned a blind eye to all of the
very
illegal shit.

“I don’t pay you to ask questions, Red,” he said, a furrow growing in his forehead.
 

“Wasn’t a question. Just an observation.”
 
I leaned back in my chair and brushed my hand over my crisp shirt. I’d do what I had to, and it would pay for all of the things that made my life far more than comfortable, maybe help pave a way for me to leave, even if Art had access to most of my damn money.
 

“Well, I’ll give you more information as the week goes on. Gabi is home today, and I keep her away from all this shit. These guys that I owe … they’ve got a lot of connections in town. So you’ll be accompanying Gabi to the shindig I have planned for her tonight. Just as a precaution. I wouldn’t want her to end up hurt, or worse.” He raised an eyebrow.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Being a bodyguard wasn’t part of my job description. Sure, I was muscle. Sure I looked after his girls—from a distance. I
fixed
things—I took action against the people who fucked with Art. But that usually involved bribing, threatening, and a few carefully thrown punches. It didn’t involve babysitting.

And besides, I wasn’t good around women. Especially not the boss’s daughter, not knowing Art’s history like I did.

“I uh… I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Art.”

“I’ll tell you what’s a good idea and what’s not, Red.” His voice was vaguely mocking. “Remember, you owe me big time. You wouldn’t want information about your past coming out around here … would you?” I felt the rage inside bubbling beneath the surface, and I imagined clocking the old man in the face, the cartilage in his nose crushing against my fist. The satisfying thrill of bone on bone. After what I’d done, after what
he’d
done, that punch would be justice finally served. I nearly growled and leapt across the desk, but there was a sound behind us, breaking me from my reverie.
 

“It’s not like you’re innocent yourself.” My voice came out in a low growl, rage just below the surface.

“My secret is just much better hidden. Let me do the thinking, why don’t you? If you don’t want me digging up the past, that is. They’re still looking for Mickey’s murderer.” I clutched the arms of the chair, my nails digging in.
 

“Don’t you dare—”

The door to Art’s office had opened. Lucky for him. I might have given my right hand the gift of smashing into Art’s face.

“Hey Dad.”

“Darling… Gabi… I’ve told you to knock before coming into my office.” I heard her voice lilting behind me… it betrayed the faintest trace of an accent I couldn’t place. I turned as she spat words at Art, clearly not afraid of him, unlike everyone else.
 

Her rich brown eyes caught mine as I stood up, extending my hand to touch hers. Her hair was done up somehow, but a few of the dark curls fell around her face, framing its perfect symmetry. I gripped her hand, keeping it in mine a moment too long. In the shadow of the hallway, I saw Federico, lurking behind the door. He winked at me and slithered off to Art’s back rooms. I drew my eyes back to Gabi.

“People call me Red,” I said, suddenly self-conscious in a way I hadn’t been in years. My eyes flickered over her body, discovering the luscious curves of her breasts and ass offered up in the flowy red dress she had on. Bohemian and very Northern California, something that the girls around here would never wear. A shadow of fear crossed over her face. Suddenly, I felt too big, unwieldy… intimidating. I often used my physical presence to intimidate people, to make women swoon. Now her presence was doing the same to me. I backed away from Gabi just a bit.
 

Gabriella. Beautiful and pure. As beautiful as her mother. Even more. Not now, Red. Of all times, not fucking now.

I caught her eye again before she turned on her heels and exited the room. I turned away, stunned by the girl’s beauty. A jolt ran through me, and I felt my cock stiffen slightly.
 

Fuck. Not here. Not now. Not this girl.

I couldn’t imagine watching out for this girl without wanting to put my hands on her… without wanting to please her, make her scream out in pleasure.
 

Women were usually just something for me to do. A hobby of sorts. Something I didn’t get terribly excited about anymore. But this girl… she was
different,
in a way I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
 

I turned back to Art.
 

“Look, Art, I really don’t think I can go with Gabi to that thing tonight. Does she even know you’re sending her off to parade her in front of some Hollywood dick bags?”
 

He glared at me. “I emailed her about it last week. Or I had my secretary email her, whatever,” he said, waving his hand like it was no big deal. “Besides, she needs to take a look at getting into the business. She could be big, just like her mom. I told the director she’d be game for whatever.”

“Is she?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t she be? She begged me to introduce her to directors when she first moved here. Said she wanted to be like her mom. Now she’s twenty. It’s about time she gets into the business. Besides, I owe this director a favor. He’d love to get his hands on a young starlet like her.”
 

I nodded, but my skin was crawling. Usually I didn’t give a shit what Art did with his girls, but this wasn’t some Hollywood hopeful. She didn’t need to be pushed into something when she wasn’t even halfway through college. Again, there was something hidden. Something he wasn’t telling me. And that wasn’t good, not with LAPD and the FBI sniffing around the business.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll take her and make sure she talks to the right people.” Art nodded and waved his hand to dismiss me. I headed out of the office, suddenly very tired.
 

I felt my cool slipping away. I steeled myself, trying not to think of those deep brown eyes.

Those eyes that looked at me like I might have a soul.
 

Gabriella

I walked up the stairs, each step creaking as I did. I hoped the noise irritated the shit out of my father and that he wouldn’t be able to get anything done, or talk to either of those horrible men. Well, maybe Red wasn’t so horrible. A hired hitman maybe, but one who was beautiful. I suppressed a shiver, thinking of those icy blue eyes. My bags were sitting in front of the first guest room in the hallway.

“This is as good as any other unused room in this damn house,” I muttered. I lifted my hand and snagged the key from the top of the door frame, unlocked the door, and put the key back where my father kept them. I looked down the long line of closed doors, the empty quiet of the house seeping into my bones. Opening the door, I kicked my bags inside and walked in. The room was old, the ceilings high and spacious. I immediately walked to my bed and fell down into its softness.
 

I’ll wear the green dress to the party. People always get a kick out of that. Better not go in jeans. Dad got pissed the last time I did that.
That had been quite an event. I’d gotten drunk, and I’d made out with a young director. My roommates would never believe that was me—the girl who studied constantly wouldn’t do such a thing.

I sighed and rolled over, wishing one of my med school friends were here with me. Well, I didn’t exactly have
friends
. I had people I liked, people I studied with, and the sisters at AKA, who seemed to tolerate me and my distinct lack of coolness. They didn’t understand this weird Hollywood life waiting for me hundreds of miles away. Sure, everyone knew
who
I was. But no one knew what my father was trying to make me be. Not even Maddie. Even she wouldn’t understand this version of me.