Hitman's Captive: A Bad Boy Romance (23 page)

BOOK: Hitman's Captive: A Bad Boy Romance
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“I—he left me here.
S-said he’d be back for me, and—and to buy some supplies. I don’t know
where—where he went.” I bit my lip and glanced down, knowing I was affecting
the image of an innocent, helpless woman and not sure what to make of my
deception.

“Then why didn’t you just
call someone?” Vinny’s brow drew down, even as Marco shot him another glare.

I let myself shake a
little more violently, surprised by how easily it came. “No—no, I can’t do
that. I—I tried before, but…he’s always there. Always right behind me. He—he
knows everything I do.”

That was true enough at
least. Except for now. If only he knew what was happening now. Fuck it, Alessa,
stop that.

Another shared look, and
Vinny’s muttered curse about pathetic women that was quickly covered by Marco
speaking over him. “It’s okay, we’re here now. You don’t need to be afraid
anymore.”

I flinched as he touched
my arm, the reaction genuine, but I tried not to jerk away from him. He seemed
like a decent guy. I just…didn’t want him touching me.

“Vinny, you stay and wait
here for him. I’ll take Alessa back to NYC.” Marco said firmly.

“Wait,” Vinny turned to
me again, “What does he look like? What car am I looking out for? Where were
you coming from, going to? You can’t leave me with
nothing.

The questions hit me with
a staccato beat and when it seemed like Marco would shut him down, I started
answering. These were the things I needed to work out anyway.

“We…were heading south
from Chicago. He—he got some gas, then said he had business and he’d come back.
I don’t know where…” I bit my lip again and trailed off.

“And?
What does he
look like, woman?!
” Vinny’s exasperation was obvious, but although he clearly
wanted to step forward and shake me, he managed to refrain. The advantage of
being Antonio Santini’s property, I guessed.

Property. That wasn’t
usually how I thought about it. I was his daughter. His family.

Marco didn’t intervene this
time, and I guessed he thought the question was worth asking - even if his
distaste of his companion’s rough manner was obvious. I felt strangely
hesitant, conflicted feelings surging through me even as I knew I couldn’t
avoid this.

“Black hair, blue eyes…”
That simple description did
not
do Leo justice, but talking about the
way his eyes sparkled with amusement, or the cocky grin that smoothed the grim
look on his face wouldn’t help anyone right now. “Dark blue BMW.”

It wasn’t until
that
lie
that I realized the truth. I didn’t want them to find Leo. I didn’t want to
give him up.

Maybe this was a rescue,
and I was going back to my father as I belonged, but Leo had…been more than
good to me. I wanted him to get away.

“That’s it? Black hair
and blue eyes? What the fuck - nothing else? Height? Size?
Anything
to
distinguish him?” Vinny’s face was growing red and this time Marco did scowl
his way.

I just shrugged, looking
away as if in regret. “Average height, maybe. I don’t know…”

Leo wasn’t
average
in
any way, but that was probably the last comment I could get away with if they
did find him.

“Black hair, blue eyes,
average height…fucking woman just described half the men in the damn country.”
Vinny muttered it, but he was already turning away after a stern look from
Marco.

Marco offered me a small
smile and shrugged too. “Okay, interrogation over, I promise. We’ll get you
home now. Our car is over here.”

He indicated the gas
station at the end of the road and I followed slowly, trying to resist the urge
to glance behind me, at the road to the house Leo was currently in. I was still
hoping to see him come charging out around the corner. My heart dropped as I
realized I wasn’t going to get to say goodbye.

To your kidnapper? You
are so messed up.

But I didn’t feel messed
up. And Leo didn’t feel like a kidnapper. Not anymore.

Disappointment settled
heavily into the pit of my stomach and I didn’t look at Marco as he led the
way, instead picturing Leo’s sexy arrogance , the heat in his gaze…my body
tingling with the way he’d made me feel. I’d always known I’d go back to my
family - that’s what I’d
wanted
- but still, I found myself wishing that
things could have been different.

What? What did you think
would happen? He’s fleeing the country and you’re Antonio Santini’s daughter.

It was a nice fantasy,
but it’s over now.

Chapter Seventeen

Leo

 

I paced a circuit of the
garden, the short distance making me feel more like a caged animal than truly
aiding my thought process.

Tonight, I was going to
ask her to stay with me.

And I didn’t have a clue
how I was going to do it.

There was no reason for
her to agree - she’d made it very clear how much she wanted to return to her
family. I was offering her what could well be a life of risk and danger,
for…what? My great skills at fucking?

But I was going to do it
anyway. Because if I didn’t ask, I’d wonder about it forever. And she was the
best woman I’d ever known. Hot, and fiery, and funny, and sweet, and with an
innocence that I delighted in corrupting.

However strong her loyalty
might be, her family didn’t deserve her - I knew that much. I couldn’t stand
the thought of her going back to a life she didn’t get a choice in, to conform
to whatever they expected of her. She had too much fire in her to be an
old-fashioned, obedient mafia wife.

I’d seen how much she’d
enjoyed the last week - and not just the sex, but being here. I heard the way
she’d spoken of the places she wanted to visit and the things she wanted to do.
The things she might never experience if she went back. And I wanted to give it
all to her - show her every pleasure and every imaginable joy in the world,
because she deserved nothing less for finally making
me
notice them.

And I was going to tell
her all that. At least, I thought I was. I had no fucking clue what I was
doing.

I’d avoided people,
connections, attachments for all of my life and yet somehow, this had happened.
My whole life alone, and now two weeks with her…and everything had changed. Two
crazy, incredible weeks. And I didn’t want it to end.

I’d never felt as
vulnerable or scared as I did right now, realizing how much I’d grown to want
her and not knowing if she felt the same way. I’d thrived on life-and-death
moments, on the danger and thrill of putting myself in those situations. And
not one of them could compare to this. I was more exposed than I’d ever been,
and it was utterly terrifying.

Maybe I’d tell her that,
too. Or maybe not. Who the hell knew what women wanted to hear in moments like
this?

I glanced at my watch
with another scowl. At least I had some time to work it out.

I resumed my pacing, and
thinking, and cursing, worked up in a way that a simple hit had never made me.
It was only after another couple of hours passed that a different kind of
anxiety started hitting me. She’d been gone most of the morning now.

How long does it take to
buy a few fucking groceries?

But I wasn’t going to
disturb her. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t. If she wanted to take a few hours to
admire the small village we were in, I was going to let her. Because…I couldn’t
ask my captive to stay with me. She had to know that she was free first - that
it wasn’t her kidnapper asking, and she really had a choice.

Gritting my teeth, I
turned back inside and tried to find some distraction as I waited for her to
return.

And waited.

Finally, as the light
started to fade, I let the dread that had been slowly growing within me have
its voice.

She wasn’t coming back.

I stood caught for a
moment, between the hard-action adrenaline that surged through me and demanded
I do
something
, and collapsing in despair. Then I came down on the first
option, my body unable to do anything else, even as my mind froze.

I charged out of the
house and towards the shops she’d left for what felt like forever ago. The
streets were fairly empty, but for once I didn’t care about the few people who
noticed me.

Strange how Alessa always
ends up more important than the discretion you’ve lived your life by.

I remembered the other
time I’d run flat-out searching for her, the sordid motel, and then my stomach
flipped for an entirely different reason.

What if something had
happened to her? There could have been a freak accident, the bratva could have
caught up to us…anything.

Cursing myself for ever
leaving her alone, I picked up my speed and it only took me half an hour to
have seen every street, searched every part of this little village.

There was no sign of her.
Nothing. No broken body on the ground, or blood smears giving hints of the
violent acts my mind kept picturing.

Finally, I turned back to
the couple of shops on the main road. I didn’t care how much attention it drew
anymore - I was going to ask about her.

The main grocery shop had
already closed and I resisted the urge to pound the door down - from the
darkness inside, it was obvious no one was home. Instead, I rushed over to the
next one - a DIY type from the looks of it - just as the owner came out to
close up.

“Hey!” My voice was too
loud, too urgent and I forced it down a notch as he looked up. “Have you seen a
woman come by here? A while ago, maybe? Dark hair and eyes, sun-bronzed skin,
Italian beauty type? About this height—”

“Yeah I seen her.” The
man interrupted my description, which was just as well, as my descriptions were
about to become far too poetic. I could feel every beat of my heart in my chest
as he responded. “Left here this morning with two guys. Heard them say they
were goin’ home.”

He turned back to the
door and took his keys out, seemingly unaware that everything within me had
just died.

Well, there you go. You
got your answer.

It didn’t matter I hadn’t
had the chance to lay out my ill-prepared arguments or convince her otherwise -
she’d made her choice.

She’d tried to escape
every chance she got, so it shouldn’t have been so damn surprising that the
moment I let her go free, she flew home.

Even if it killed me.

The shopkeeper shot me an
odd look and I made myself thank him, turn and walk slowly back to the house. I
didn’t see anything on the way back, couldn’t do anything other than curse
myself for my stupidity.

You kidnapped her, idiot.
So what if she decided to make the most of it and enjoy what she could? Of
course she wasn’t suddenly picturing spending the rest of her life with a
hitman.

The irony wasn’t lost on
me. I’d always despised the sort of fools I’d now become. I’d spent my life
avoiding it. It was the whole reason I didn’t let anyone into my life - and now
it had come out of nowhere and hit me over the head.

I should have known better.

Maybe it was a horrible,
bleak thought - maybe for one instant, I’d been convinced by her argument that
happiness
was worth the risk, worth the weakness - but I’d been right all along.

People just abandoned
you. They left when you were counting on them, and took too much of you with
them. I’d always been alone, and that was how it should have stayed. I was
better that way.

Even if, right now, it
didn’t feel like it.

I let myself back into
the house, flicking the lights on as I wondered why everything seemed dimmer. I
could have sworn this house was nicer a few hours ago.

With a sigh, I slowly
lowered myself to the sofa, feeling more wrung out than I could ever remember.
I’d been chased part way around the country, had thugs shoot at me, somehow
worked out how to live with a woman for two weeks, and now…this. I’d never
seriously considered giving up, but I couldn’t bring myself to care anymore.

Stupid fucked up idiot.
Stop with the fucking self-pity. You always knew she was going to say no. Now
move the fuck on.

I let the sudden flare of
irritation spur me into at least thinking about what this meant - what I needed
to do now. If Alessa was going back, then my identity would be out within a
day. I doubted I’d be able to show my face in this tiny village, let alone at a
full-blown airport where they were looking for me.

All my plans would come
to nothing because I’d let her free for a few hours in one fucked up decision.
I’d managed to hang on for so long, but now…I couldn’t get away. Not with
everyone looking for me.

It took a long time to
settle on the only option left to me, and even as I did, conflicting, confused
emotions ran riot through me. I was probably just a dead-man walking, but if I
had
any
chance, it would be there.

I still couldn’t summon any
enthusiasm for getting myself out of this mess, but as I looked around the warm
room and thought about staying here alone…I picked up my keys and headed for
the door. I had a plan, something to do - that had been enough to sustain me
before. It would be again.

I told myself I was going
back to NYC because I had no choice - within a day, my face would be plastered
everywhere. The airports would be watched. I couldn’t get away anymore. I was
going back because I had to - because Jay was the only one who might help me. I
told myself it had nothing to do with the dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty who
would also be there.

For a while, as the
landscape between us passed unnoticed, I even believed it.

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