Freed (Bad Boy Hitman Romance) (4 page)

Many women seemed to be slaves to their emotions. They would fall head over heels with a new guy each week, at least that’s what it seemed. I didn’t. I didn’t know that feeling of love other women claimed to get. Lust, yes. A need to indulge in my desires, and ridden hard, also yes. A need to cling to a man and lose myself in him, nope. No way.

What I was feeling towards Kyle was simply primal urges at its best. That’s it. Nothing more. Nada.

Another round of knocking spurred me into action, pulling me from my thoughts.

“At least leave the Taser and switchblade at home. It’s creepy.”

“It’s about safety.” I spun around to face her. “I’m serious. You’re too trusting, and you’re going to end up getting hurt.” What she didn’t know was there was a pistol under my mattress, not loaded, and the clip was in a bible with the middle cut out that I kept in my night-side table. The gun was my father’s. I never asked why he had it, and I seriously doubted my mother even knew it existed. As soon as he died I went to the garage where I knew he had it hidden along with other questionable objects and took it. I chuckled to myself thinking of what her reaction would be if she ever found it.

“Not every man out there is a psychopath.” Vanessa huffed, giving her head a shake.

“Not all are Prince Charming either.” Vanessa frustrated me to no end. She was too old to be as naïve as she acted. “And you know as well as I do that roughly 3 percent of the population, heavily leaning towards males, are psychopaths. Not necessarily murderers, but regardless. There’s a lot of unscrupulous people.”

Her expression became serious and I saw sadness in her eyes. “What happened to you as a child to make you so suspicious and untrusting of everyone?”

There was sympathy in her eyes – sympathy. For me! That pissed me off. I didn’t need sympathy from anyone. I was done with this conversation. “Don’t wait up.” Without another word, I opened the door just as a third round of knocks began.

Chapter 4

Rebecca

“You look amazing, Rebecca,” Kyle said as I exited my dorm room.

I smiled at him in response, but it was a fake forced smile. It would take me a minute to calm down from my encounter with Vanessa. How dare she imply there was something wrong with me. She was the delusional one! Maybe there
was
something wrong with me, but I didn’t like that someone else could see it.

Even though, deep down, I knew she was right. I wasn’t normal.

“Whoa, something wrong?” Kyle asked as we began walking down the corridor towards the exit.

“No.” I pushed my annoyance down, and my smile became more genuine. “It’s all fine. So where do you have in mind?” I gave him a once over. He was wearing dark blue jeans with a black, button-down, cotton shirt. He looked as sexy as usual, which made me wonder if he ever had a bad day where he looked like shit, like the rest of the world. My eyes narrowed at him as I pondered it.

“Okay, you’re giving me a weird look.” His smile faded just a tad.

“I was just wondering if you ever looked bad.”

His smile returned wider than ever. Oh lord, I had inadvertently fed his already bloated ego.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” I rolled my eyes at him but grinned despite myself.

“Too late. It’s already inflated my ego.” We reached the exit, and Kyle stepped forward and opened the door for me, moving aside and allowing me to exit first.

“Ahhh. Damn. Me and my big mouth,” I replied as I walked past him. “I imagine you have enough women falling over themselves to boost your ego.”

“Not that many. But then again, I’ve just gotten here.” He gave me a wink. “Even for a guy like me, it takes some time.”

He led me to the parking lot, and not knowing which car was his, I followed him. Looking up at him, I shielded my eyes from the sun, which was in the process of going down. “You know, I’m not sure if you’re really this full of yourself, or if it’s just an act to be charming.”

“Hmmm. Maybe a little bit of both.” He grabbed my arm at the elbow and ushered me towards a black Mercedes.

“This yours?” I asked as we approached the vehicle.

“Yup. Bought her when I moved here.”

Hmmm. Kinda overkill for a college student who may or may not continue to live here after he graduates
. Family money no doubt. I looked up at him again. That would explain the confidence and confirm my original assumption – he’s a trust fund baby, no doubt here under his family’s dime.

“Okay, what’s that look for? You’re not a Mercedes fan?”

“No. It’s a nice car.” I ran my fingertips along the hood of the vehicle. I’d love to have a vehicle like this one day. I wasn’t really a sports car kind of girl. I liked refined and classy. When I saw a fancy sports car, many times I would assume it was being driven by someone who had something to prove. But cars like a Mercedes, while definitely a status symbol, wasn’t an in your face ‘look at me’ vehicle. It was a reflection of refined class.

“Then why the look?”

“What look?” Damn, he was perceptive. It was like he knew my every thought before I thought it. It was a little unsettling, but at the same time, it made me want to know more about him.
  

Kyle opened the car door and waited for me to slip in, his eyes dipping to my legs as my skirt hiked up high on my thighs as I sat down. Good. I didn’t hurry to pull my skirt down.

With a hand placed on the roof of the car, he leaned down so he could speak to me face to face. His gaze locked onto mine, and I felt a jolt of adrenaline shoot through me. It was pissing me off that I wanted him as much as I did. Hopefully, once I scratched the itch called Kyle, I’d lose interest. At least I hoped, though deep down I didn’t think that was going to happen.

“The look on your face tells me that you have something to say, but you’re holding back.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I gave him a look that said I thought he was full of shit. “I’ll have you know I’m not usually one to hold back my opinion.”

“You are now, though.”

“Maybe you’re imagining things.”

“I don’t think so. I’m pretty good at reading people.”

“Think so?”

“I know so.”

“I’ll have you know I’m not the typical bimbo I’m sure you usually pick up, who’s so easily impressed that a smile and a fancy car will drop her panties by the end of the first day.”

His smile grew wider. “We’ll see by the end of the night where your panties end up. Watch your feet.” He closed the door before I had a chance to reply.

~*~
  
TT
  
~*~

“This is a really nice place.” I scanned the restaurant as we sat in a quiet corner booth of a small Italian restaurant. “It’s quaint. How did you ever find it?”

“Trip advisor.”

I raised a brow at him. “Trip advisor, huh?”

“You can find all the best spots with it.”

“Hmmm.” I shifted my attention so I focused on him again.

He leaned forward in the chair, eyeing me as he braced his elbows on the table.. “So, tell me all about yourself. You’ve had me intrigued from the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

I laughed. “Intrigued, huh?”

“For real. There’s just something about you. I don’t know. Something special.”

Leaning forward, I mimicked his positon. “Is that your opening line for every woman?”

“Hmmm. Not really. Most women don’t interest me like you do. Which is why I want to know what’s so special about you.”

 
That was kind of an odd thing to say. “Okay, so what do you want to know?” I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. When I moved here to go to college, I’d decided to leave my past behind – my sister, memories of my deceased father, and I was attempting to distance myself from my mother, but the latter was easier said than done. So there were very few people who knew where I really came from. College was a reset on life, and discussing my family or lack thereof wasn’t something I intended to do.

“Where are you from originally?”

I smiled. “Boston.”
Liar,
a voice in the back of my mind screamed.

“Really? Where’s your New England accent?”

“Left it back in New England.”

“Ha! Why would you do a thing like that? I love a New England accent.”

Why are you covering your accent
? I silently asked, but simply smiled, then replied. “We’re in California now. It’s a new life.”

“That it is. What about your parents? You’re a long ways from home.”

I thought about my father. My poor, murdered father, and I had to push down the anger forming within me. My father was the only one worth staying for in the rat hole of a city I was really from. My mother was weak, and I had neither the patience nor the inclination to coddle her. As for my
 
sister – well, who knew where she was. I hadn’t heard from her in a couple of years, but considering she was somehow connected to my father’s death, I couldn’t care if I ever saw her again. In fact, if I had proof she was responsible, she’d have some serious problems to deal with, worse than whatever it was she was running from currently.

But I digress…

“My mother calls from time to time.” In all actuality, it was several times a day.

“What about your father?”

“He passed away.”

He reached across the table and took my hands in his. “I’m so sorry, Rebecca. He must have been terribly young. Can I ask how he died?”

“Cancer.” I wasn’t about to tell him about my father’s murder. That would only lead to more questions about my family.

“Ohhh.” He gave my hands a squeeze. “So sorry. That’s tragic. Were you close to him?”

“Very. He taught me everything I know. He taught me to be strong and how to survive.”

He cocked his head to the side, eyeing me, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his eyes. “Quite the life lesson.”

My gaze locked with his and I shrugged. Admittedly, I’d always felt I was different. For as long as I could remember, I’d felt that way. Though from time to time, I had to wonder if what I was today was due to conditioning by my father or a genetic trait. I leaned towards the latter since my sister was the exact opposite of me. She allowed her emotions and need to do the ‘right thing’ to override her sense of survival. In my mind, and that of my father – she was weak, which is why I was always the favored one. My father and I were very much the same in the way we thought and went about things.

“You all right?” Kyle gave my hand another squeeze pulling me from my thoughts.

“Of course.” I put a smile on my face and nodded.

“And here you two go. Sorry for the delay, we had a little incident in the kitchen,” the dark-haired waitress explained as she placed our plates in front of us. We were both having an Italian sampler, which included a serving of lasagna, fettucine alfredo, and chicken parmesan.

Incident?
I pulled my hands from Kyle’s grasp and leaned back in my chair. “What do you mean by incident? Was someone hurt?”

The waitress shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, her smile fading a smidge. “Umm. Yeah. No. No one was hurt.” Her smile returned to its former glory. “So, is there anything else I can get for you guys?”

“No, that’s fine,” Kyle answered. “Thanks.”

“Enjoy.” Spinning on her heel, she took off back in the direction of the kitchen.