Hitman's Captive: A Bad Boy Romance (5 page)

I breathed deeply as I
let the hateful thoughts subside, shuddering with the crippling despair for a
few small moments until I managed to get it under control. As I focused on my
breathing, my eyes glanced back to the mess I’d made of the room, the bedframe
stood awkwardly on its side behind me.

Hey, at least you got
this far, right?

After forcing a couple
more positive thoughts, I managed to stand up again, shaking my head slowly.
Maybe I wasn’t the sort of person who could get herself out of crazed
situations like this, but I could keep trying.

Giving the bed a wry
glance, I let my mouth tuck up in a smile.

It’s not like you’re
getting any sleep, hmm?

“You’re going crazy,
Alessa.” I muttered to myself as I moved over to the desk again.

Apparently waiting alone
and helpless after witnessing a murder and being kidnapped wasn’t good for my
mental health - if the way voices kept snarking in my mind and I was starting
to talk to myself was any indication. I resisted the manic laugh that welled up
in me at the thought and sat down on the chair - pulling the bed behind me with
a wince at my wrist. If I wasn’t careful, that was going to start bleeding
soon.

I took in a deep breath
and assessed my options again. I couldn’t get out of here without the key to
the handcuffs - and there was only one person who might have that. Which meant
confronting my kidnapper, at the very least.

So…what did I know about
him.

He was a highly skilled
assassin-slash-kidnapper with the body of a Greek god…
focus!…
an
intimidating stare, rough voice and he had no hesitation in pulling out a gun
and threatening a woman. He’d had no qualms about killing, and had been calm
and controlled throughout the whole dangerous situation, with enough cunning
and instinct to adapt to whatever had happened. He’d also seemed able to read
me like an open book, from the muttered reminders he’d given me every time I
was just about to try something.

Great. And what did I
have against all that…?

I glanced around the room
again. Maybe the element of surprise. Maybe.

It was all I could think
of, and I couldn’t see it measuring up particularly well, but I guessed it was
worth a shot. If I had a weapon or something, maybe I’d at least feel like I
had a chance…but there was nothing here and I was still stuck to this damned
bed.

I wished for a brief
moment for enough room to maneuver - and the strength - to let me swing the
frame around and strike him with it, but that wasn’t going to happen. My eyes
caught the desk again, and I considered it. It was probably light enough I
could just about manage to pick
that
up, but it was awkward and
unwieldy. It seemed fragile enough though…

With a frown, I stood up
and slammed my hand down against the dry wood at the top. There was no loud
crack
or impressive display, but the impact hit it hard enough that it shifted a
little, tilting as one of the legs splintered slightly.

Triumph ran through me
and I grinned suddenly, grabbing it and starting to work it further. If I could
break one of the legs off…

Then I still only had a
very small chance. But it was
definitely
better than nothing.

Chapter Four

Leo

I ducked through the
narrow gap in the chain-link fence and strode over to the abandoned warehouse
that Manny usually operated out of.

I still felt a twinge of
guilt at leaving Alessa alone, especially after she’d clearly objected - but
there was no way she could come here, and she should be fine for the night.
Besides, Kidnapping her was worse than leaving ever could have been, so I was already
screwed there anyway.

Hopefully her fear would
fade and she’d even be able to get a bit of sleep - a luxury that I doubted I’d
get tonight, despite the beginnings of a headache behind my eyes telling me I
needed it.

I waited until I was
through the large, rusted doors before my impatience got the better of me.

“Manny! Get your fucking
ass over here.” My voice echoed around the large, open area - probably
disturbing any deal he had going on, but I wasn’t in the mood for
consideration. I was on edge, and I needed to know what had happened tonight.

There was no answer, and
I grunted in annoyance as I looked around. The random items that had been here
ever since I’d first met the guy were still scattered around - the pallet he
kept in the corner for the occasional night he stayed here, or any guests that
needed it, was still lying there undisturbed. It looked the same as it always
had.

Manny had been a source
for most of my dealings over the last few months in New York City, and he was
good at what he did. But a screw up like this had me feeling anything but
generous towards the guy. I wanted to know where and how he’d gotten his
information, and the checks he’d done to make sure it was good. I needed to
know whether I’d been set-up - and who might have done it - or whether there’d
just been some terrible mistake.

With every passing
moment, it was feeling more and more like the former.

I walked through the main
area, heading to the back where he sometimes took more delicate deals - away
from prying eyes. On any given night, he could generally be relied on to be in
this warehouse - or leave something with a way to contact him. If tonight was
the one night he didn’t show, well that was some combination of suspicious and
unfortunate that I didn’t want to think about.

I pushed open the door to
his ‘
office’
without bothering to knock, the tirade that had built in me
over the last few hours ready to burst.

Then I froze. The words
died on the tip of my tongue as my eyes danced over the gruesome sight in front
of me. My gun was out a second later, and I ducked behind the door, looking
around for any sign of movement or life - but there was nothing. My angry shout
as I entered would have alerted anyone regardless.

I waited for every sense
to convince me that there was no one nearby, then I let my gaze return to
Manny.

He was strung up from a
beam in the ceiling, the thick rope tight around his neck, with his face
contorted and purple - he’d strangled to death then, instead of the rope
breaking his neck.

Poor bastard.

There was a chair kicked
over underneath him - enough to give whatever idiots ended up finding him the
evidence they needed to write it off as a suicide. Which, for a no-good mobster
like Manny, they’d want to do.

I’d been pissed and
confused before, but now I was starting to get seriously concerned. No doubt
there would be an ‘unofficial’ reason for this circulated among the underworld,
but the timing was far too suspicious for me to think it wasn’t related to my
hit tonight.

One more pointer towards
a set-up.

And a fucking big one at
that. The more I looked at him, the more I was taking this as a personal
message:
You’re next.

Whoever had planned this
wanted to cover their tracks - enough that they’d set-up a well known, thorough
source with false intel and then killed him afterward to avoid a trail. And if
they’d do that to an established guy in the NYC underworld, they weren’t going
to hesitate over an unknown, unaffiliated hitman that’d only been around a few
months.

Simply the names involved
were enough to make sure of it - Kovalski and Santini. An alliance. Who
would’ve ever thought that?

And someone obviously
didn’t want it to happen.

The girl was a
complication. Clearly they intended me to kill Kovalski unawares, but the girl…I
have no idea what they’d thought would happen to her—

Except I did.

Any other hitman would’ve
just killed her outright. It’s what I should have done.

So someone wanted Viktor
Kovalski and Antonio Santini’s daughter dead…
who? Why?

I shook my head and came
out of my crouch, still holding the gun firmly in both hands, eyes still
darting around. I didn’t know the answers, and I was starting to think looking
for them wasn’t the best idea.

I could just leave…

But I was reluctant to
destroy my chances of coming back to New York. I might feel the urge to move on
somewhere else every few months, but I’d come back to New York more often than
anywhere else. It was the place that felt most familiar. Growing up on these
streets did that to you, I guessed.

Besides, having two of
the largest mafia organizations in the country after me could make life
difficult - even if they didn’t know who I was.

So, I’d stay and see what
I could find out - and maybe, if I found a few answers, the Santini and
Kovalski families would overlook this little…mishap. It might be a long shot,
but the only reason they’d even try pursuing me would be to find out who’d
hired the hit. Most revenge focused on the client, not the agent.

Except for those that
just wipe out everything to do with it, of course…

But if they weren’t in a
generous mood, I could still switch to plan B: get the hell out of dodge.

If only I knew what the
hell to do with Alessa in all this. The fact that I hadn’t killed her should
count for something with Santini, but keeping her captive probably wouldn’t do
me any favors either. And if I let her go, my one advantage of being unknown
would vanish. Then the Russians would be on my back before I could figure
anything out.

She’s going to be the
death of you…

I sighed and slowly rose
to my feet, focusing on getting out of here. If I was the mastermind behind
this, I would’ve left a few guys to wait and see if I showed up, but there
didn’t seem to be anyone here. I moved back through the main warehouse without
any issues, and within moments was back in my car and starting the engine.

As soon as I was safely
away, my mind flew through my options.

I’d planned to find out
more about both Martin Feber and my supposed client, Jamie Lee, tonight. Manny was
the one who knew more than surface level information on Martin, though, and it
was looking more and more likely that the guy had never existed.

Seeing Manny like that, I
doubted I was going to be able to see my ‘client’ either. He was probably dead,
disappeared, or the man I’d thought he was - Jamie Lee - was someone different
entirely. Still, it was worth finding out
which
of those was true - it
could give me something to go on.

I always did as much
research as I could on the client, but there hadn’t been much time here. Still,
the story had fit well enough - I’d seen both him and his wife, I’d checked out
the financial firm he worked at, and I’d followed him at a distance on his
lunch break. It had seemed to be the same guy that I’d met in a club in Manhattan
to arrange the hit on Martin.

My mind returned briefly
to Alessa waiting back at the safehouse, but it was midnight now and hopefully
she’d just gone to sleep.

Besides, how is she a
reason to cut this short?

The idea that I even
wanted to confused me.

Instead, I turned the car
towards Brooklyn Heights and tried not to think too much as I drove. For some
reason, those dark, scared eyes - flashing with occasional anger and defiance -
kept coming back to me. I pictured the way she’d looked at me as I leaned over
her on the bed, right before I’d snapped the cuffs on her. Her mouth had opened
just a little, breath coming quickly as the dim light of the room made her
sun-kissed skin shine. For one brief moment, I’d actually thought she’d shared
my heated interest.

But that was
not
an
interest I should dwell on. Not with Antonio Santini’s daughter. The girl I’d
kidnapped. It was all kinds of wrong.

At least that means she’s
never going to go for it.

And I was probably only
obsessing over it because I hadn’t had a chance for my usual post-hit
relaxation.

For a brief moment, I
considered looking for that after I was done with Jamie Lee - and then
dismissed it almost immediately. It would be risky as hell when I had no clue
who was looking for me, and far more important things to focus on.

If I had a spare moment,
I should use it to sleep, not fuck. And the idea of one of my usual pretty
girls didn’t seem to have the same luster tonight. The whiskey, however…but it
was out of the question.

I sighed again and turned
the car onto the Manhattan Bridge, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel as
I tried to get her out of my head.

I’d never kidnapped a
woman before - never even taken one more than a block down the street - and
worrying about how she was doing was driving me crazy. I’m pretty sure that
wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but then I’d readily admit I had no clue what
I
should
be doing either.

I ground my teeth in
frustration and tried to work out how I could easily get rid of her - but I couldn’t
just let a witness go. Especially not after what had happened to Manny.

Instead, I forced myself
to think back to the brief interaction I’d had with my client, remembering all
the details I could in case Jamie Lee
was
in his apartment, and I had to
compare him to the guy I’d met. I was usually good at that sort of thing -
remembering details - but tonight, everything seemed difficult and I needed the
extra focus.

As I neared Jamie Lee’s
address, I stopped by a pizza joint that opened late and ordered a large pie to
takeout. This time of night, there wasn’t much going on there and I didn’t have
to wait long in the dim shop before I headed back to my Mercedes with the pizza
in tow.

The damn thing would
stink up my nice leather-upholstered car, but without the time to plan this out
properly, I had to settle for old tricks. Plus, my stomach was quickly
reminding me that I hadn’t eaten yet tonight, so maybe the detour would work
out in more ways than one.

I looked around warily as
I eased the car down Jamie’s road, very aware that if whoever had set this up
wanted to catch me and end the last remaining evidence then it would be fairly
easy to guess that I’d turn up here. But there were no dark cars or suspicious
lurkers to be wary of - just a nice, quiet neighborhood that seemed to have
gone to sleep for the night.

I came to a silent stop a
couple of doors down from Jamie’s house and on the opposite side of the road,
then switched the car off as I looked up at the house. It was closed off and
dark - either Jamie and his wife weren’t home, or they’d already gone to sleep
for the night. Either one would tell me something - though part of me still
hoped Jamie would be home and I’d recognize him as the man who’d hired me. That
way I could start resolving some of this nightmare.

But the chances of
whoever I was dealing with being that careless were low. And I’d never been an
optimistic
kind of guy.

I waited a few more
moments, checking the street again, before grabbing the pizza and sliding out
of the car. I reached into the back and pulled out a bulky leather jacket,
slipping that on and settling a cap over my head. Like this, I’d be fairly
indistinguishable from most delivery guys and it should stop Jamie from getting
a good look at me.

Another glance down the street
and I walked up to the door with a confident, bored stride, preparing myself to
wake the house up. The first ring didn’t get any response, and I craned my head
to look for signs of movement. I tried again, listening for sounds of movement
as I held the bell down for longer. I could hear it buzzing through the house,
but not much else.

C’mon fuckers, be home.

It would be so much
easier if I could know for certain. If they were gone…I’d need to come by at
least another couple of times to make sure it was for good.

I waited a minute, then
knocked sharply on the door and pressed the buzzer again. If they were home,
there was no way I was letting them sleep through this.

Another minute of
waiting, and then I heard a muted curse from inside, followed by the sounds of
the house creaking.

Got you!

I pressed the buzzer
again for effect, even though someone was probably on their way down now -
furious at the midnight interruption, no doubt, but I could live with that.