Hitman's Captive: A Bad Boy Romance (7 page)

I brought my arm up and
moved it around, something about the sudden freedom making me want to use it
immediately. The shallow cut opened again as I flexed my wrist and I hissed at
the pain. He reached for it, but I clutched it to my chest and continued to
shoot daggers at him instead.

That’s it. Stay angry. If
you’re angry, you can’t be—

“Well, if you’re done
with all this,” he gestured around the room, “there’s pizza in the kitchen.”

“I’m not hungry.” My voice
sounded petulant even to my own ears, and I was pretty sure my words were a
lie. Sure, it was after midnight and my body wasn’t complaining about food -
but I hadn’t eaten much all day, and I was starting to notice how weak I felt.

But there was something
in me that resisted anyway. I didn’t want anything from him - pizza, or
anything else. He’d kidnapped me and my feelings towards him were already
conflicted - they didn’t need anything else confusing them. I needed to stay
angry, and keep reminding myself of who he was. It seemed like that was the
only way I wasn’t going to do something utterly stupid.

“Okay,” he shrugged and
moved towards the doorway, “you can watch me eat then.”

“I will not—”

“You think I’m going to
leave you alone again?” His chuckle had an amused lilt to it that only annoyed
me more, but when it became obvious he wasn’t going to let me stay behind, I
grunted in irritation and followed him through the narrow corridor.

Like the rest of the
house, the kitchen wasn’t anything to look at - a small space with only basic
appliances and a square table set against one wall. The pizza box rested on the
table and I flopped down into one of the chairs with a
harrumph,
folding
my arms to make it clear that I didn’t appreciate being dragged out here. 

My not-so-silent protest
only received an amused glance from my captor, which riled me even further as
he turned to rattle around in one of the cupboards, showing little interest in
the pizza we’d come out here for. I, on the other hand, glanced over at it and
started to regret my earlier refusal. Something to eat
would
be nice,
but now that it was wrapped up in my defiance, the simple act of grabbing a
piece of pizza meant I would be giving in. And my pride wouldn’t let me do
that.

Caught up in my internal
debate, the slap of something hitting the table startled me - as did my
kidnapper pulling up a chair close to me.

“Here, I’ll take care of
that cut.” He reached for my arm again, and gestured to the first aid kit now
sitting beside me.

“I’ll do it!” I pulled
back instinctively, refusing to let him touch me as I scowled.

He looked dubiously at my
arm and for a moment it looked like he would argue, but then he shrugged and
moved around to the other side of the table.

He opened the pizza box
and started eating, the distinctive greasy smell waking up my stomach and
making me shift uncomfortably on my seat.

At least now you have
something else to think about.

I opened the first aid
kit and quickly found a roll of white bandages. It was only as I drew it out
and cut some off that I realized I didn’t have a clue what I was doing.
And
I
was doing it one-handed.

Stupid pride.

Ignoring my stupidity, I
attempted to awkwardly wrap the thing around my wrist, but keeping it balanced
with one arm and trying to make it tight enough was a challenge, and -
how
is this meant to be tied again?

It wasn’t like I’d ever
had the chance to join the Girl Scouts, damn it - clearly not an appropriate
activity for Antonio Santini’s daughter.

I looked up to see him
watching me, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth that only infuriated
me more.

“What are you looking at,
bastard?” I snapped as the bandage fell apart for the third time.

“You know,” he drawled it
slowly as he worked his way through the pizza, “my name’s Leo. If you wanted to
call me anything other than
bastard
and
asshole,
that is.”

“I think those suit you
just fine.” I made my voice sugary-sweet and gave him a sarcastic smile.

He’d kidnapped me and was
keeping me here against my will - he didn’t deserve anything better. Not that
it seemed to phase him in the slightest, with his mouth quirking up as he
shrugged and took another slice of pizza.

I turned back to the
bandage and couldn’t restrain my sigh as any small victory in our verbal
sparring was overshadowed by the fact that I was
terrible
at this.

“My offer still stands,
you know. If you change your mind.”

I glanced up at him,
ready to snap at the condescending amusement I expected to see there - only to
find him watching me seriously for once, the cocky arrogance he’d displayed so
far replaced by what almost seemed like real concern. I waited a few beats for
it to fade, for the mocking that would no doubt follow, but those deep blue
eyes were genuine.

I bit my lip and then,
looking down again, reluctantly nodded. He didn’t say anything as he put the
pizza down and went over to the sink to wash his hands - surprising me that he
even bothered with that. It didn’t fit the rough murderer type. If rough murderers
had a
type.
Which they had to, right?

He took up the chair in
front of me again, and started taking items out of the first aid kit before
gesturing for me to lay my arm on the table. I did, with the wrist up, and he
took out an antibacterial wipe - making me feel stupid all over again for
forgetting it.

“This will sting a
little.” His voice was almost gentle as he glanced up at me, and any thought of
responding with something sarcastic disappeared as I caught something
unexpected in those blue eyes.

Instead, I just nodded,
and turned my head away as he cleaned the cut with a care that I didn’t want to
notice. I wasn’t sure what I’d seen in his expression but I didn’t want to know
any more. His calloused fingers against my wrist were already making my pulse
jump and spark, and anything else would just confuse my tired, worn-out mind
further.

He was fixing an injury
that
he’d caused.
That was all. One that only existed because he’d
kidnapped
me.

I forced myself to pull
it together as he started wrapping the bandage expertly around me before tying
it off, hoping he couldn’t feel the way my body reacted to his touch.

“There, should be good
now.” There was no mockery in the simple satisfaction on his face, and I
figured maybe he just liked doing things with his hands.

Then I blushed furiously
as my mind leapt to
other
things he could be doing with his hands.

Like killing people.
Don’t forget, Alessa. His handsome face held a gun to you without hesitation.

He moved back to the
other side of the table and I flexed my wrist experimentally. Plenty of
movement, but it was securely wrapped up.

“Thank you.” The words
came reluctantly, and it felt somewhat wrong to say them to my kidnapper - but
he’d helped me without mockery, and I couldn’t bring myself to ignore that.

A flash of surprise
passed of his face, before he shrugged awkwardly and turned back to the pizza.
My attention followed his, and now my stomach rumbled openly. I twisted in embarrassment,
but either he hadn’t heard or he didn’t care, and I studied the pizza again.

It only took a couple
more moments before I reached for a slice, shrugging. Small acts of defiance
were fine, but when they only hurt me, what was the point? I was never going to
go on a full-out hunger strike, so letting my pride get in the way of something
I wanted suddenly seemed stupid - as did refusing to take anything from my
captor.

The better strategy would
be to take everything I could get, and use it as I could against him. The pizza
would give me the energy to resist him again, so…I still won. Just so long as I
remembered that whatever he offered me didn’t make him a good person. Pizza
couldn’t override the karma debt of kidnapping and murder.

Feeling better about the
decision, I took a quick bite, then wrinkled my nose in disappointment.

“It’s cold.”

“Well, it took us a
little time to get to it,” the amusement returned to his expression, but this
time I didn’t mind it so much. “Pizza’s good cold - but there’s a microwave
over there if you want it.”

I stood up and went
looking for a plate to stack a few pieces on. I didn’t get pizza often, and if
I was going to take in way more calories than I should, I was going to make
sure it was worth every bite. As I looked through the cupboards, it occurred to
me that this was a kitchen - and it probably wouldn’t be hard to find a knife.
My heart jumped in my chest, and my body tensed slightly at the thought. I
should be trying to find a way out of here - an advantage, anything - every
moment I could, and this could be a good opportunity.

My gaze drifted back to
Leo sitting at the table, and I jumped as I caught the knowing look in his eyes
while he watched me intently. I turned back to the cupboards uncertainly, not
saying anything, but dissuaded enough from trying something. I wasn’t going to
be able to sneak a knife while I was around him, and as for turning and
swinging it at him…I had a good idea of my chances there. Disappointment and
brief despair flared in my chest, but I pushed it away and found the plate I’d
originally been searching for, refusing to look at Leo as I arranged the pizza
on it.

Just forget it. Eat
pizza. Get some sleep. You can work out what you’re going to do tomorrow.

Some part of me felt bad
for giving up as I turned towards the microwave, but the more insistent part
just wanted the pizza, and for things to be easy for a few brief moments.

The beeping of the
microwave signaled it was done, and neither of us said anything as I sat back
down and started eating. The air between us was tense again, alive with
currents I couldn’t understand, and more than anything I just wanted to ignore
it all.

So instead, I focused on
the pizza - which tasted amazing, even if that was probably just because I
hadn’t eaten much today, and junk food had always been a rare indulgence.
Tonight I definitely felt like indulging.

When he was done, Leo
stood and stretched, looking impatient for the first time as he watched me
finish. I refused to rush, instead taking my time to enjoy it and feeling an
odd mix of satisfaction and guilt at delaying him.

“C’mon. Let’s see if we
can get at least a couple of hours’ sleep tonight.” Leo spoke as soon as I’d
finished, and I thought I could hear the hint of exhaustion in his voice.

I followed him,
preoccupied by trying to work out how I could take advantage of that exhaustion
while trying to ignore the insistent pressure of my own. The violent emotions
of this evening had drained me, and I felt dull and worn out - punctuated by
moments of terror or despair as my mind returned to the reality of my
situation.

We headed up the stairs
and then Leo unlocked a door at the far end of the hall. It wasn’t until I
stepped inside and saw the large double bed in the middle of the opposite wall
that I finally realized what was going on.

“Oh no. Oh hell no.” I
backed away from Leo, suddenly feeling like running out of the room entirely.

He turned to me as if
he’d expected the objection, but just shrugged, that glint of amusement back in
his eyes and the ghost of a cocky smile on his face.

“Sorry, princess.”

“I am
not
sharing
a room with you -
absolutely not!
” My eyes flared with outrage as I
stared at him, but he didn’t budge.

“Not much choice, girl -
you destroyed the other one.” He walked around me and shut the door, and that
simple gesture had me shuddering.

No way. I couldn’t do
this. Not after the way I’d reacted to him earlier…I couldn’t trust myself with
this. Not to mention sleeping in the same room as my kidnapper was repulsive. I
wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

He glanced over at me,
but my disgust didn’t seem to mean anything to him - and to my shock, he
started stripping off his shirt.

“No - stop! Don’t do
that!”

I stared as the hard, sculpted
muscles of his chest came into view, captivated by the casual way they moved
and flexed as he shrugged the shirt off. His skin was covered in striking, dark
tattoos - a lion’s head on one side, while an angel and demon fought on on the
other. Another came around his side, its long, twisting body leading to a
fanged snake’s open mouth.

I forced my head away
before I could take in anything more, blushing furiously for staring - and at
what I’d seen, and the way I wanted to look again. To never stop looking.

The low chuckle only made
it worse, and I clenched my fists as Leo spoke, “Really, princess? Never seen a
guy’s chest before?”

I felt the heat searing
my cheeks as I refused to look at him. Of course I had - you couldn’t really
get away from that, not with the occasional pool party, or the morons at school
who just had to show off. Not that they had anything to show off, not compared
to—