CLASS ACT (A BRITISH ROCKSTAR BAD BOY ROMANCE) (31 page)

“That man is trouble,” Daddy said with a frown. “He’s got the swagger of a dangerous man.”

I rolled my eyes. “You say that about every guy who’s around my age, daddy.”

“No, I’m serious,” he continued, finally digging into his food. “He looks like the mafia type.”

I put my fork down. “Just because he’s Italian doesn’t mean he’s some mobster. That’s an awful stereotype.”

“Well, he certainly looks dangerous.”

“How can you tell?” I asked with a laugh. Daddy thought the hundred pound boy I dated in tenth grade looked like a troublemaker. “Is your sixth sense going off when it isn’t work hours?”

“He’s ex-military,” Daddy continued. “I saw him wearing dog tags. Those guys can carry a lot of baggage when they come back home. You keep your distance from him.”

“And here I thought we were supposed to respect our veterans,” I replied, eating my vegetables like a good girl. “What’s he look like, daddy?”

He glared at me. “Why are you asking?”

“So I can know which person you’re putting a restraining order on to keep him from meeting him. Or me from meeting him.”

“Tall, dark and handsome,” he chuckled, stuffing a fork full of chicken into his mouth. “He’s everything a girl like you’d want in a man. That’s what makes him dangerous. Just keep your distance.”

It was my turn to glare at him. “I can handle myself. I don’t go crazy over just any guy I meet.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find him cute,” he teased. “And I know how girls your age follow their hormones rather than their heads!”

“Is this your way of saying I should stay away from every man my age and die as an unmarried spinster?”

He gave me a serious look. “No, it’s my way of protecting the only woman in my life.”

We were both pretty silent after that.

After we finished dinner, I went to clean up. Thank God I had finally convinced in my father to invest in a dishwasher. It was idiot-proof for a man like him and cut down the time I spent cleaning dishes.

After checking the fridge, I began to get dressed. It got my father’s attention. “Kelly, are you heading outside?”

“We’re out of milk,” I answered. “I can’t have cookies at night without milk.”

Old habits die hard. Besides, who doesn’t love cookies and milk at night?

He nodded. “Just be back home before it gets too dark.”

“Okay, Mr. Head of Security,” I joked. He didn’t find it very amusing. “And I’ll be sure to brush my teeth after my late-night snack.”

“Do you need money?”

I was already ready out of the door and into the hallway. “I have a twenty! Bye daddy!”

As much as I loved my father, I needed my space from him. There was no way I was going to be able to bring a date home with him around. For that matter, I wasn’t sure he’d ever give a guy his blessings to marry me.

For years, I just wanted to grow up. It wasn’t like I resented daddy for acting like a guard dog. Mom’s death had hit him pretty hard. It was just that I wasn’t his little girl anymore. I had begun my steady march into adulthood.

That’s when I realized I had steadily marched into someone in the hallway.

It was a man who didn’t look much older than me.

His sharp handsome features stopped my breath cold. He had a Mediterranean complexion that went well with his dark hair. The man was tall with a muscular build under his tight clothing. I could see a series of spiraling, militaristic tattoos running down his arms.

This had to be Jackie Baccalieri.

And I had walked right into him.

A pixie-looking young woman recoiled in horror after bumping into me. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

I hated the mere act of walking in this apartment’s halls. It only led to awkward situations like this. With a sigh, I raised up my palms. “No harm, no foul.”

I guessed her to be of college age. She was probably the daughter of that private security expert that had a stick up his ass. I didn’t plan on being on a first name basis with either of them.

Unfortunately, the young woman was on a first name basis with me.

“You must be Jackie Baccalieri.”

The best way to hide was to stay in plain sight. As far as the other tenants were concerned, I was some ex-marine who worked in construction. I kept to myself and didn’t mingle with any other tenants. I didn’t attend the apartment’s social events. I didn’t do anything expect work and sleep.

Most hitmen trip themselves up by trying to keep themselves hidden all the time. I never had the stomach for socializing but I knew the value of being a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “I see that my name is getting around.”

She blushed. “Sorry, that was rude of me. My name is Kelly Chambers.”

I glanced at the elevator. “It looks like we’re both heading down.”

“We are,” she replied, still blushing like a schoolgirl. “I’m in apartment number six-three-two. Where do you live?”

“Six-three-six,” I answered curtly. The professional in me had made a layout of the entire building. I would need it in case of an emergency escape. I had a rented a small suite in downtown as a safe house. I didn’t plan on retreating there if I could help it. Nonetheless, it paid to be prepared in this business. “It’s the one out of the main hallway and next to the staircase. Most people don’t even notice it when they pass by.”

I preferred it that way.

The woman followed me as I hit the down button the elevator. “So… what brings you here, Jackie?”

I had hoped she’d take the hint that I wanted to be left alone. Some people couldn’t help but put their nose in other peoples’ business. Unfortunately for her, my business tended to cut peoples’ noses off and mail it to their families.

“Work mostly,” I answered. It wasn’t too far from the truth. This side of the city had its fair share of contracts. I could find steady work from any number of mafia families, criminal syndicates, or even the CIA in some cases. I still had some of my old military contacts. For now, I was the Pastore family’s go to man for when someone needed to die. “And this was where I was born and raised.”

The elevator came up quickly. I had to admit that the apartment complex wasn’t particularly fancy but the elevators moved like clockwork. In my line of work, you can appreciate things working on time.

The girl’s next question got my attention. “Do you have any family?”

The only family I had left was my grandfather from my mother’s side. I didn’t consider anyone who treated me like a living weapon to be family. “Not anymore.”

The girl looked appalled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Relax, you’re the first person I’ve had a real conversation with in days,” I chuckled. More to the point, I was actually enjoying the conversation. God, I needed to socialize more. It kept the killer instinct in me at bay. “Most other people lower the heads and walk past me.”

The two of us entered the elevator. It was a long way down to the ground floor. This meant plenty of time for Kelly to interrogate me.

“What do you do for work?” Kelly asked. Something about her enthusiasm was infectious but I had to keep my guard up. “I heard you were in the military.”

“Two tours in Afghanistan,” I answered plainly, hoping she would lose interest. Those were four years of my life in which nothing good happened. I just ate, killed, and slept. Ironically, it might as well have been paradise for a man like me. “I work in construction now.”

It wasn’t a lie since I did technically work for a construction company. A lot of mafia have ties to legitimate businesses. The Pastore family offered me a job of a foreman as cover. I did clock in at the construction site. Instead of building offices, I discussed the details of upcoming hits with whoever hired me.

She nodded. “Sounds interested? You heading out for a party?”

“No, it’s for work,” I answered truthfully. I didn’t know why I was so chatty with someone I barely knew. If she had been a spy from a rival family, she’d have me dead to rights. I needed to keep my distance from her. “I have to attend a meeting. It won’t take long. I’ll be back in less than ten minutes.”

She raised an eyebrow. “A ten minute meeting In the middle of the night? Can’t you have a Skype conversation?”

I shrugged. The mafia sure loved its short late night meetings. I didn’t think we’d get anything productive done, especially with my grandfather racking up absentee days. “My work is never done.”

This felt like the longest elevator ride of my life. I felt like an idiot talking to some college kid like I was a regular human being. Then again, I hadn’t felt human since I killed my first man.

Worst of all, I couldn’t stop but feel drawn to Kelly. I didn’t know what it was about the girl that drew her to me. It certainly wasn’t her looks.

I’ve had my share of beautiful women. The mafia is no stranger to attracting sexy, gold-digging women who’d pretend to fall in love for you in exchange for the right price. They were never anything resembling romance. They were quick fucks that both of us would forget the next morning.

Maybe that was just it. Kelly was so innocent. She was untainted by the wicked world I inhabited. I had slithered in the sludge with all the other bad men that true innocence looked like Moses appearing with the Ten Commandments.

The elevator doors finally opened after what seemed like an eternity.

I wanted to slap myself for acting so weak. Feeling such an attraction was just asking for a trip to the morgue. You couldn’t afford any attachments in my line of work. For Kelly’s sake, I’d best stay away from her.

“I guess this is where we go our separate ways,” she said, looking a little dismayed. “I got to pick up some milk. It was nice talking to you, Jackie.”

I nodded. “Likewise.”

I headed to the other direction towards my destination. The Pastore family wanted to discuss the growing threat of the Russian gangs. They had gotten bolder over the past few months.