Lace and Bullets: A Hitman Romance (9 page)

M
ia rolled
over and took the covers with her.
Mmm
. He loved the soft swell of her ass. The gentle curve that rose from her leg practically begged him to follow.

He chewed on his lip as he watched her sleep. He needed to end it. Deep down, he knew that. But the past three weeks had been the best of his life.

Sure they’d been watching their backs, driving through town after town in a quest to stay off the cartel’s radar. But that meant hours alone. Talking. Laughing. Fucking.

Never had he let anyone in this deep before. His life was too gritty. Too deadly.

It was no place for a woman like her. But out on the road, they could pretend. It was a fucking fairy tale. Bad guy meets good girl. They fall in love. Everything was sunshine and roses.

Yeah, right.

They couldn’t be on the run forever. Sooner or later they would slip up and Marcelo’s men would find them. Or Mia would wake up one day and want to go home.

The crazy rollercoaster they were on would do a three-sixty and Mia would see him for who he really was. A murderer, not a forever.

Damien slipped out of bed without making a sound. He tugged on his jeans and pulled a shirt over his head before grabbing his phone. He had promised Detective Johnson a phone call weeks ago. Instead, he’d been ignoring it.

If Rick could help keep Mia safe, then she didn’t need him anymore. There would be no reason to keep running. No more nights with her body snuggled tightly against him. No mornings of orgasms and light.

Damien would lose the only good thing in his life since his sister died. But he couldn’t put it off. The longer it stretched out, the harder it would be.

Time to rip the Band-Aid off.

He dialed the number.

“Detective Johnson.”

“It’s Damien.”

Rick was silent for a moment. “Thought maybe Marcelo had found you. It’s been a while.”

“We’ve been on the run.” Damien exhaled. “Got anything for me?”

“Nothing you’ll want to hear.”

“Just spit it out.”

“Not on the phone.”

“I can’t come back and you know it.”

“I’ll meet you somewhere. What direction are you in?”

“South.”

Rick thought it over. “How about Hastings? It’s far enough away from the city. There’s one of those giant malls there, it’s got everything.”

“Fine. But she’s not coming.”

“Don’t need her. This is about you, not the woman.”

Damien nailed down the details with the detective and hung up. Unease didn’t do his feelings justice. If Rick had something he couldn’t discuss over the phone, it was serious. Had Marcelo gotten to the department? Were the cops out for his blood now, too?

Whatever it was, he needed to deal with it and keep Mia safe.

“Who were you talking to?” Her voice came out sweet and thick like real maple syrup and Damien ground his teeth together.

“No one.”

“You’re lying.”

He glanced up and the sight of her naked body wrapped up in white sheets had him cursing himself. He never should have let it get this far.

He sat down on the edge of the chair. “Have you ever had maple syrup, you know, the good stuff?”

Mia tucked a pillow beneath her and gave him a funny smile. “Of course. What else do you put on pancakes?”

“I was nineteen the first time I tried it.” Damien tried to swallow, but his mouth turned to sandpaper and his tongue to wood. “Marcelo had given me a job.”

She hugged the pillow tighter to her chest. He hated doing this to her.

“You mean a hit?”

“First one. Guy had been a pimp for a while, then a trafficker. Sadistic son of a bitch, if you ask me. The things he’d do to those girls…” Damien ran a hand over his hair. “Marcelo thought the guy was too cocky. Said the crew needed to be taught a lesson.”

“So you roughed him up?”

“I shot him in the head.”

Mia’s face slipped into a frown. “Why are you telling me this?”

Because you need to hear it.
“After the job was done, I met Marcelo at this fancy restaurant.” Damien exhaled. He’d never told anyone the rest of it before. Not even Detective Johnson. But Mia deserved to know. She needed to know the truth about him.

He met her brown eyes, now wary as they looked at him. “I’d never been somewhere with white tablecloths before. All Melanie and I ever managed was a fast food joint or a dive bar.”

“Marcelo asked me to sit down, so I sat. He ordered me pancakes and when they arrived, he watched as I took a bite. The maple syrup lit up my tongue like sugar fireworks. I’ll never forget the taste of those pancakes.”

“Why?”

“Because the taste was still in my mouth when he told me my sister was dead.”

Mia’s mouth fell open and she scooted up to sit on the edge of the bed. “Why would he do such a thing?”

“If I hadn’t taken the job, Melanie wouldn’t have died. She overdosed while I was staking the guy out.”

“So Marcelo told you to what? Make you hate him?”

Damien shook his head. “You just don’t get it, do you? He told me so he’d own me. Melanie was all I had. She was the only thing in my life worth a damn. All those years when it was just the two of us…She kept me alive. She sacrificed herself over and over so I could eat.”

He pushed out of the chair and flexed his hands. “She let them…” God, it still made him sick. “She sold her soul for her little brother and I couldn’t even protect her when it mattered.”

The rage that always bubbled to the surface when he thought about Melanie coursed through his veins. If only he could punch something. Someone.

“It’s not your fault she died, Damien.”

He spun around. “Of course it is. All of it was my fault. If she hadn’t had a little brother to take care of, she wouldn’t have gone to Marcelo in the first place.” He gripped the back of the chair. All of the anger he bottled up inside threatened to spill over.

“You were young. He took advantage.”

“I was old enough.” The chair shook in his hands. “After Melanie…I died inside. Whatever the job, I did it. Whatever the risk, I took it. There’s so much blood on my hands, Mia, they’ll never come clean.”

He let the wood go and the chair rocked back and forth on its legs. Damien turned away so he didn’t see her face.

“That’s not who you are; that’s the man Marcelo made.”

He heard the bed shift, but he couldn’t turn around. He couldn’t look in her eyes and see betrayal and hurt. Pity.

“There’s only one me. I’m a murderer, Mia. That’s all I’ll ever be.”

Her fingers landed like butterflies on his shoulders, so light and insubstantial. “You’re more than that. When you’re with me…I see the real you, Damien. The man beneath all the scars.”

“I’m no good for you, Mia. I’ll only end up hurting you.”

“Then that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

He spun around and grabbed her by the wrists. “What if I’m not?”

Her brown eyes flashed and she rose up on her tiptoes. “Then you’ll have to try a hell of a lot harder to get rid of me. I’m not afraid of you, Damien. Nothing you can say would change that.”

“We have to go back.”

Mia’s eyes went wide and she eased to the floor. “What?”

“A cop I know…He’s got something for me. Says Marcelo’s turned up the heat. He wouldn’t discuss it over the phone.”

“You said the cops were dirty.”

“Not this one.”

She tugged at her hands and Damien let her go. “Then I’m coming with you.”

“No.”

“Don’t shut me out.”

“Don’t risk your life. If you go back, Marcelo might find you.”

“Where are you meeting?”

Damien exhaled. “Some mall in Hastings. The food court.”

“That settles it.” She turned and grabbed her jeans off the floor. “I’m definitely coming.” She fished her shirt out from under the bed. “I could use some more clothes.”

Four hours later, Damien pulled into the parking lot of the mall. Bringing Mia along was a terrible idea, but what other choice did he have? If Rick’s news was as serious as it sounded, he’d probably seen the last of Mia’s sweet body.

Leaving her at a giant mall in the suburbs would be the best for everyone. He could deal with Marcelo and she could get on with her life without him. Damien just had to convince Rick to go to bat for her.

He parked in a crowd of other cars and killed the engine. “I’m meeting the cop alone. If he’s got news about Marcelo, the guy could have been tailed. It could be a set-up.”

“I thought you said he was on the up and up?”

“Things change. He might not be a good guy anymore.”

Mia nodded. “Okay. I’ll be shopping. Call me when you’re done.”

Damien reached out and dragged her over the console. His lips landed on hers and he kissed her until she moaned. “You have your phone, right?”

She nodded. “Stay safe.”

“You, too.”

He opened the door before the sight of her swollen lips made him change his mind. Mia deserved more than this.

More than him.

Damien made his way through the parking lot, scanning the cars and every passerby as he went. The food court wasn’t hard to find. Neither was Detective Rick Johnson.

The man screamed cop from a mile away. High and tight haircut, close-fitting jacket to hide the piece under his arm. Look on his face that said been there, seen that.

Sliding into the seat opposite the man, Damien cut to the chase. “What’s going on?”

“Hello to you, too.” Rick looked him up and down. “You look good.”

“Talk.”

Rick leaned over the table. “First of all, I didn’t go looking for this, okay? It fell into my lap. Second of all, I can’t help your girl. The precinct is overrun. I’d never pull it off without Marcelo’s thugs finding out.”

Fuck
. Damien forced his voice to stay low. “If it’s not about Mia, then what’s so fucking critical you have to see me in person?”

“It’s about Melanie.”

Every part of Damien’s body snapped to attention. He gritted out the words. “She’s dead. What’s there to talk about?”

“She didn’t overdose.”

“Yes, she did. I saw her body. She had all the signs.”

“You remember what you said when it happened?”

“I said she didn’t do it herself. Someone had to force her. You said I was wrong.”

Rick nodded. “And I’m sorry about that.” He shifted in his chair and leaned closer. “I should have listened to you.”

Damien froze. Had he been right all along? “Did Marcelo order it? Shit, Rick, I knew it.” He scooted his chair forward. “I went to the DA’s office that night to try and find something on her. Anything. One of the guys told me a grand jury had been called over her death.” He swallowed. “That it had been murder, but the DA and the cops hushed it up.”

Rick’s voice edged barely above a whisper. “It was murder. But it wasn’t by Marcelo.”

Damien blinked. “Then who…?”

“She was an informant for the FBI.”

Damien gripped the table. It wasn’t possible. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not. They were close to taking down the whole cartel. She was the key. The star witness.”

Damien thought back to his meeting with Marcelo the night she died. The taste of butter and syrup was fresh on his tongue. “Marcelo didn’t know. He’d have killed me on the spot.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” Rick reached across the table, his hand out in a warning. “It was the District Attorney, Damien. That chick you’re so hung up on? Her father killed your sister.”

Damien rocked back in the chair like he’d taken a punch to the gut. “No.” It was all he could say.

“If the FBI kept digging into the cartel’s activity they would have found him out. Davenport was already in up to his elbows with Marcelo at that point.”

“How’d he even know?”

“The FBI had been keeping the state in the loop. The DA’s office knew about the indictments coming. He had her killed before they made it public.”

Damien’s heart hammered in his chest.
George Davenport took a hit out on my sister.
Mia’s face swam before him and he focused on the cop to block it out. “I need proof.”

“Ask your girl about it. She’s his daughter, she should know.”

“They were estranged.”

Rick leaned back in his chair. “Then I guess you’ll have to take my word for it.”

“Who’s your source?”

“You know I can’t tell you. I’m already risking my neck just being here.”

Damien’s head was spinning. For years, he’d been living with the guilt of his sister’s death. Trying to come up with some proof it wasn’t an accident. Some way to stick it to Marcelo and get the hell out of the cartel.

When Mia had landed in his arms, he thought she’d be the key. But never like this.

If his sister was an informant…If the DA had her murdered…Everything changed.

He wished the asshole were still alive so he could be the one to riddle his chest with bullets. If what Rick said was true, then Mia’s father wasn’t just a son of a bitch who ignored his daughter and did deals with the devil. He was a murderer.

If Mia found out…The knowledge would destroy her. He glanced up at the cop’s stoic face. “Do you know who did the hit?”

Rick shook his head.

Didn’t matter. Damien would find the bastard who pumped her full of those drugs and he would make him pay.

He clenched his fists under the table. He didn’t need to run from Marcelo anymore. He needed revenge. Then he and Mia could be free. “Thanks, Rick. I owe you one.”

“Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

Damien didn’t answer. He was done talking. Someone out there killed the only person in the world who loved him and Damien was going to make him pay for it.

T
hree weeks
of living out of motels and a stolen car had taken their toll. She walked through the mall in a daze. It had been so long since she had done something normal, she had almost forgotten how.

People milled around the shops on their lunch breaks. Women in suits, men on break, and moms chasing toddling little ones were everywhere. Not a single one could claim to be a criminal.

A fugitive.

Mia slowed and leaned against the railing. A month ago, she’d never have stepped foot in a place like this. Without a high-end store to burn through her father’s money, what was the point?

This mall had it all, though. She looked up at the pharmacy looming in front of her and a sign next door caught her eye.

Hastings Police Substation
. What? A tremble rushed through her.
The police.

Her feet moved toward the bulletin board outside the tiny office on autopilot.
Mug shots
. All of the area’s most wanted, stapled up to the wall for anyone to see. She couldn’t be up there, could she?

She let her hair fall across her face as she stopped in front of the board.

Oh my God. They used my law school job photo.

Mia swallowed as she stared at the grainy black and white version of her with her hair pulled back in a low ponytail, black suit jacket on.
Wanted For Questioning. REWARD.

She pulled her hair forward even more to hide her face.

This can’t be happening.

When Damien said she would be a fugitive…When he told her there was no going back to life before…It hadn’t sunk in. Not until now.

She could be arrested. Thrown in jail. Her eyes scanned the board until she spotted his face.
Oh, no.

He was younger. Longer hair and fewer tattoos, but it was Damien. He had the same haunted look in his eyes. Mia took a deep breath and read the caption. She expected
First Degree Murder
. But it only mentioned questioning, same as her own.

She reached out to touch his picture, but stopped halfway. If anyone saw him in the mall…

Mia whipped around. If anyone recognized either of them…

The sign to the drug store caught her eye. She needed to get away from the police as fast as possible. Rushing into the store, she ducked her head and focused on the floor.

What could she do to hide? Sunglasses and a hat. She could dye her hair.

Mia rushed through the store, looking for everything she would need when familiar labels caught her eye. She paused and stared at the rows of tampons.

She counted.

Then counted again.

The bright blue boxes stood all in a row, accusing her. Mia turned back around.
It can’t be. I’ve just got my dates wrong
.

She looked to the end of the aisle. The part of the store she had always hurried by in the past. Pregnancy tests.

They hadn’t been using protection. She knew it was stupid, but the first time…She thought she was going to die. The second, she was so thankful to be alive.

After that, she had no one to blame but herself. Damien had asked more than once. She blew him off.

Oh, God.
She walked toward the display and stood there, staring at them like a zombie.

“Do you need some help?”

Mia snapped her head up. A middle-aged woman stood in front of her wearing a white lab coat and a placid smile.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m the pharmacist here today. Do you need some help choosing a test?”

Mia blinked in slow motion. “Um…” She swallowed. “Yes, thanks.”

The woman smiled again and turned toward the shelves. She picked up two boxes. “This one is for early detection. It’s pretty accurate if you’re eager to know as soon as possible, but it does give a false negative on occasion.”

She waved the box in her other hand. “This one is more accurate, but you need to wait a bit longer to use it. Which would work better?”

Mia could barely talk. “I’ll take both.”

“Great. I can ring you up if you like.”

She followed the woman to the back of the store and put the sunglasses and hat she had grabbed on the counter.

“First baby?”

Somehow she managed to nod.

“It can be overwhelming, I know. But just take it one day at a time.” The pharmacist turned and grabbed a bottle off the shelf behind her. “These are the best prenatal vitamins. Want me to add them to your things?”

Mia felt like the whole world had been dropped into a vat of clear Jell-O. Her brain felt fuzzy, her limbs, thick. Speaking took serious effort.

She nodded.

The pharmacist kept talking, but Mia couldn’t hear her. All she could think about was the chance she was pregnant with Damien’s child. A man wanted by the police and the most powerful criminals in the state.

A white bag entered her vision and she took it. The pharmacist squawked some words of encouragement and Mia mumbled a vague reply. She couldn’t pretend her life wasn’t about to fall apart.

She stumbled out of the pharmacy and down the hall to the bathrooms. The family bathroom was open and she slipped inside and locked the door.
Thank God
.

Being alone gave her a chance to breathe.

She gripped the sink’s edge, sucking in gulps of air as she stared at her reflection. Could she do this? Did she have a choice?

With shaking fingers she tried to open the first box. Over and over she tugged on the stiff cardboard until at last it gave way. Then she opened the second. She wanted to be sure.

A few minutes later, the sticks sat on the edge of the sink. Mia refused to look. She paced the tiny room, counting the tiles on the floor, wringing her hands back and forth.

At last, she stopped moving and faced the sink.
I can do this. I can do this.

She closed her eyes. Counted to ten. Looked at the pregnancy tests.

Holy shit.

Two lines.

Her big brown eyes stared back at her in the mirror as her hand slipped to her flat belly.
I’m pregnant
.

She had always wanted a family. A white picket fence and a house in the suburbs. A family sedan and a nine-to-five job. A good husband.

Her gaze fell to the tests perched on the sink.

Not a man who was looking at life in prison if he ever got caught. Maybe worse.

With a cry of anguish, she gathered up everything on the counter and scooped it into the trash. The empty boxes, the tests, her sanity. All of it.

Mia turned on the faucet full-blast and splashed her face. The icy cold mixed with her tears and washed down the drain.

She could run. She could bail on Damien and rush into that police substation and claim he had kidnapped her. She could tell them all about Marcelo and what he did to her. How her father was murdered and why.

She could sell Damien out and watch the father of her child go to prison.

The water kept running in the sink, drowning out her sobs. It did nothing to stop the pain in her chest.

No matter how much sense going to the police made, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t leave Damien.

She thought about how he saved her from that brute on the waterfront. How he took her mini-golfing to cheer her up when they were on the run. How for the last three weeks she had wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms and wake up the same way.

He might be a stone cold killer, but he would never hurt her. And she would never leave him.

Mia turned off the water and hit the button for the hand dryer. The hot air dried her skin and calmed her nerves. She wasn’t letting the father of her baby go to jail and she wasn’t letting him be killed by Marcelo.

There was only one thing to do.

She gathered her things and turned on her throwaway cell phone. Thank God Damien had insisted on getting them the other day.

“Hello.”

“It’s Mia.”

“I’ve been waiting for your call.”

“I need your help.”

“Anything.” Steven’s voice always edged into flattery when he sensed a victory.

It made her skin crawl, but she had no other choice. “I want to set up a meet. I hand you Damien Rogers and you give him a deal. He knows all about the Marcelo cartel. He can give you names, dates, witness testimony. You take what he can give you and he gets immunity. No jail time.”

Steven whistled. “You know I can’t promise immunity. I’m only interim District Attorney.”

“Already? Wasn’t being ADA enough?”

“Technically, I’m both at the moment.”

Mia swallowed the nasty comment screaming to get out. Thank God she’d turned him down all those years ago. “If you won’t help me, I’m sure the fed—”

“No.” He cut her off before she could say another word. “You want him safe, right?”

“That’s all I want.”

“Then agree to jail time. He serves a few years in protective custody, the trials and plea deals happen, he’ll be out. A free man.”

Mia rubbed at her swollen eyes. Could she send Damien to jail?

“It will mean he stays alive, Mia. Otherwise, I can’t promise that.”

He would never forgive her. One look at the cops and her face and Damien would know she set him up. Her gut twisted at the thought.

“There has to be another way.”

“It’s the only way. He’s a thug for the cartel, you know that. He’s probably run drugs and roughed people up. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a murderer.”

Mia didn’t volunteer.

“I can’t give a killer immunity. I’ve got an election to run.”

Of course
. The election. “My father hasn’t been dead a month and you’re already focused on the election?”

“I’m sorry about your father, but life goes on.”

“So does your career, apparently.”

“Do we have a deal, or not?”

Mia glanced up at her reflection in the mirror. Damien would have to forgive her. Once he found out about the baby…he would understand. She closed her eyes. “Yes.”

“Excellent. I’ll set it up. You’ll be in touch?”

“Yes.”

The phone went dead and part of Mia’s heart died with it. She’d just betrayed the only man who made her smile even when the whole world was falling down around them.

The only man she’d ever loved.

Her phone buzzed in her hand and she glanced at the screen.

South entrance. 5 minutes.

She blinked back a fresh wave of tears. He might be a hitman for a cartel, but deep down, Damien was a good man. A dependable man.

He wouldn’t throw everything away because she went behind his back. She knew he hadn’t said it, but she saw the way he looked at her when he didn’t think she was watching. The way he stroked her bare skin early in the morning. The way he said her name when he came deep inside her.

She touched her stomach and forced a swallow. The father of her baby needed her to protect him and she would do whatever it took. Even sending him to prison.

Mia shoved the phone in her purse and unlocked the door. He might hate her for what she was going to do, but he would live to be a father.