The Hitman's Dancer: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Snake Eyes Book 2) (14 page)

I didn’t make it in time.

I force open the door, breaking through the board Marty’s men slid between the handles, and rush down the hall towards the theater’s back exit with her in my arms. Her knee shines red in the fluorescent lights, swollen and completely jacked up.
The knee.
Why did he have to go for the knee?

This wasn’t an interrogation. This was personal.

One inch. I missed the headshot by one inch. The bullet only grazed him and I didn’t bother sticking around to confirm the kill.

One bad day. That’s all it takes to create a killer and I pushed Marty right over the fucking edge.

She’s right. This is my fault.

I’m a damn fool.

I kick open the back exit and she nearly slips from my grasp. I jerk her upright, resting her head against my shoulder while I adjust my hand beneath her knees, trying hard not to do even more damage as I walk across the parking lot.

She didn’t deserve this.

But I know someone who does.

I put Lucy into the passenger seat of my car and strap her in to keep her upright. Her eyes flutter a bit but she can’t bring herself out of it yet. Good. The last thing I want is her fighting me right now and she will as soon as she comes to. She made that perfectly clear when she told me to get away from her while the world burned down around her.

I lower the seat back to make it more comfortable for her. She looks so helpless and weak; two words I never would have thought to describe her with until now. Beautiful and strong Lucy Vaughn.

I slide my coat off and lay it across her to keep her warm before closing her inside.

Now, where is that motherfucker?

I train my ears, listening for the sound of squealing tires or revving engines, anything that will indicate he’s on the move or where he’s going. My ears turn out only one thing, headed straight in this direction.

Sirens. A lot of them.

I can’t chase after Marty without drawing unwanted attention and I sure as hell can’t stick around here to get caught with an unconscious, beaten ballerina in my car. Looks like we’re running.

I climb into the driver’s seat and reach over to feel Lucy’s neck for her pulse. It’s there; slow, steady, but strong. She’ll survive but I’m not sure how she’ll feel about that. That stage was a fucking bloodbath and she saw the whole damn thing. Witnessing something like that does something to you but I won’t let her fade away. Not like I did.

Lucy stirs at my touch and her glossy eyes open. Her lashes stick together with dry tears and sticky makeup residue stains her cheeks. Pain reenters her brain and she winces at the slightest twitch of her body.

“Try not to move,” I tell her, laying my hand on her face. “I’m going to get you some help.”

“Don’t touch me.”

I pull my fingers away and grab the car keys from my pocket. The sirens sound louder, inching closer to us with each second but I can’t take my eyes off of her. Her chest heaves up and down. Her jaw is tight and flexed. She’s in extreme pain. All because of me.

I turn the ignition. “Try to get some sleep—”

“Fuck you.”

I stare straight ahead and drive out of the lot. We travel three blocks and ease into the late afternoon traffic as countless police cars whiz by us along with two fire engines lagging behind them. A black cloud rises into the sky and I glance back at it in the rearview mirror. Lucy’s entire world has gone up in smoke. I happen to know a thing or two about that.

“Take me home.”

I look over at her red, determined eyes. “No.”

“Take me home.”

“You don’t want to go home.”

“Why not?”

“Because he went there first looking for you,” I answer. “I saw it myself. The entire place was destroyed.”

“I don’t care—”

“Lucy, I can help you.”

“I don’t want your help,
Mr. Hart
,” she seethes through her teeth.

I inhale deeply. I can’t deny the strength in her tone. She’s never made my name sound quite as contemptuous before. I look back to the road with my mouth shut, concentrating on the only thing I can control.

Get Lucy out of the city. Don’t look back. Hope Elijah and Lilah don’t take too long getting to the house.

Lucy sniffs, sobbing softly to herself. Her memory must be clearing up. She’ll remember everything; every sound, every smell, every drop of blood,
every single detail
of today will stick with her for the rest of her life.

She shifts slightly, forcing all of her weight into her left leg as she moves, and bites her lip to keep from screaming in pain.

“Don’t move—”

“Shut up.”

“I just want to help you, Lucy.”

She chuckles darkly. “You’ve done a real bang-up job, Mr. Hitman. Why did they even come after me?”

“Because they found out I was in Snake Eyes,” I admit.

Lucy turns her head to look at me. “Is that it? Because you were
exposed
?”

“Yes…” I pause. “And I shot Marty in the face.”

“When?”

“This morning. Right after you left, he showed up.”

“You mean right after you kicked me out.”

“Lucy—”

“Why would they even care about Snake Eyes anyway? Aren’t you all senseless fucking killers?”

“I’ve been undercover in the Zappia family for six months,” I explain. “That’s when we discovered our data leak. Our master file was taken. It’s a list of every member in Snake Eyes and it could potentially bring down the entire organization if the wrong hands got hold of it. The next thing we knew, the Russian mob started picking us off. One agent here, a few more there. It was obvious where they got that information so my boss sent agents to infiltrate notable mob families to make sure no one else caught wind of it — and if they
did
, our job was to take care of it.”

“
Our
job?”

“Me and Spencer.”

She shakes her head and turns back to the road. “Then why did Spencer try to kill
me
?”

I bite my tongue, forcing the instinct to lie to her even farther down. “It was protocol.”

“Protocol?”

“It’s called a Code Zero,” I say. “If Snake Eyes was ever exposed publicly, we were trained to take out anyone that knew anything, abandon our posts, and await further instruction—”

“But I didn’t know anything!”

“You saw my tattoo,” I point out. “That was enough for him.”

A hard laugh shakes her face. “So, if you’d never fucked me, this wouldn’t have happened to me?”

“Logically speaking, yes.”

“This
is
all your fault then,” she accuses.

“Lucy, I take full responsibility for what’s happened to you and yours. I won’t debate that.”

She leans forward with hatred in her eyes. The setting sun shines through her window, casting a deep, orange light on her wet cheeks. “Why would you even get involved with me then? Or
anybody
for that matter? You knew this was possible from the start—”

“The odds of Snake Eyes being exposed… It was one in a million.”

“But not impossible.”

“Statistically improbable.”

“Then how did it even happen?”

Anger spikes inside. “I have a pretty good idea and you can guarantee I’ll put a bullet in his head if I ever see him again.”

“None of that answers my question,” she says. “
Why
did you get involved with me when you
knew
this was a possibility?”

“Because I needed you.” It comes out weaker than I intended it to but I’ve never said anything like it before.

“You
needed
me?!” she shouts, wincing in pain as her foot jerks slightly.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t—” I turn back to the road. “I don’t know why. I just did.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“Lucy, I’m sorry—”

“Fuck your needs, you selfish prick!” She bares her teeth in fury. “What about
my
needs? Did it seem like I
needed
this?! Or
you
?”

I take a quick breath, holding back my own rage. “I’m
sorry
.”

“That’s not good enough either.”

I stare ahead, fighting the urge to knock her out again. “I’m not the type of guy you want to piss off, Lucy.”

She laughs. She fucking laughs at me. “What are you going to do?
Whack me?
Go right ahead, there’s literally no one stopping you — myself included.” She falls back against her seat. Her lip quivers as another crying fit takes hold of her.

I go silent, staring off into the growing darkness ahead of us as the city lights fade off behind us.

***

“Where are we?” Lucy looks out the window with wide eyes, scanning the dense tree line hugging the car on both sides.

“Geneva Lake,” I answer.

“Wisconsin?”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell are we doing in
Wisconsin
?”

I note her upturned nose. A city girl through and through. “We’ll be safe here. I have a medic coming to check out your knee.”

She shifts in her seat again, something she’s done every few minutes since we left Chicago two hours ago. I only wish I had something to give her for the pain lingering in her eyes. She hasn’t complained about it at all. Still tough as nails.

We pass civilization and travel several miles more through nothing but nature. Finally, the house comes into view. It’s almost exactly as I remember it. The white paint has faded and chipped somewhat and my grandfather’s Chevy is long gone, but it’s more or less ripped right out of my childhood.

“What is this place?” Lucy asks.

I park in the driveway and step outside without answering her. Visions of the past dance in my mind, memories I have long forgotten about. Elijah and I climbing trees in the backyard. Running down the dock to cannonball into the lake. Fighting with Lilah over who gets the larger marshmallow for our s’mores.

Lucy throws the car door open and swings her legs out. She hisses as her right toes touch the graveled ground.

“Stop—” I tell her, quickly rounding the car.

“I got it,” she squeaks.

“No, you don’t.”

“Don’t touch me. I’m fine.”

I sigh and stand back as she puts all of her weight on her left leg and pushes herself up. Her leg flexes hard but she easily rights herself with little trouble. “You have nice balance,” I note.

She says nothing and throws my jacket at me. Her bare foot bounces on the rocks and I notice her face contorting with each jerk of her knee.

“Lucy, come on—” I reach out and she slaps my hand away. “You’re only making it worse.”

“Oh, I’m
so sorry
…” she bites with sarcasm dripping from her teeth. “That’s usually
your
job.”

I lunge forward and grab her waist, easily throwing her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Ouch!”
she shrieks. “Fucking hell—!”

“Calm down!” I kick the car door closed and carry her with me towards the house. Her little fists slam against my back but it’s clearly just for show. Finally, I reach the door and she relaxes, blowing out a loud exhale to make her annoyance loud and clear. I twist the knob but it’s locked. “Damn…”

“Why don’t you just knock?” she quips.

“Because no one lives here anymore.” I turn around, my eyes scanning the wraparound porch.

“Watch the leg!”

I shift to the left to avoid slamming her into the vertical banister. “Sorry…” I take us around the corner until I see the hanging flower pot at the far end of the porch.

“What are you doing?”

I spin around, easing her closer to it. “Reach into that pot. You’ll feel a small, wooden box.”

She sighs and raises her arm up to feel inside. “Okay…”

“It slides open. Should be a spare key inside.” I walk back to the door while she does it.

“Got it.”

I open my palm to her and she drops it in my hand. “Thank you.”

“How did you know that was there?”

I slide the key in but the lock refuses to turn. A hard twist breaks the rust inside and I push the door open. “Because, Lucy… I used to live here.”

She snorts.
“Really?”

I ignore her amused tone and step inside. Not exactly how I envisioned carrying a woman across the threshold but I guess I’ll take it.

Another wave of memories strike me down as I glance around the open foyer. A staircase leads up, leading to three bedrooms and a bathroom with a toilet that probably still doesn’t work right. The living room is still just as cramped. It was never meant for entertaining three growing children but my grandparents made it work. Then there’s the dining room to the left with an attached kitchen near the back. So many hours spent doing homework at that table, listening to Elijah and Lilah argue about who the hell knows what. Beneath the thick, musty air, it still smells like it always did, like my grandmother’s lilac perfume and sandalwood. The furniture remains in place, covered with thick sheets to keep the dust off.

“Can you put me down now, please?”

“Hang on…” I carry her into the living room and pull a sheet off the couch. It flicks a cloud of dust into the air around us and Lucy lets out a small sneeze. “Sorry…”

“Dick.”

I lower her off my shoulder slowly, being careful not to bend her legs too much. She settles into the cushions, leaning as far away from me as she can. “Keep it elevated—”

“I know how to treat an injury,” she snaps, grabbing the throw pillow behind her head and sliding it under her knee.

I back up and walk to the wall to try the light switch. “No power…” There’s a generator in the shed by the lake behind the house that should still be useful. I pause, reeling from the sudden rush of memory. It’s strange how much comes back after you’ve been away for so long. My eyes fall back on Lucy. I should take care of her first.

I step down the hall towards the bathroom and pull open the cabinet above the sink. It’s mostly been picked clean. Nothing but a bag of cotton balls and an old bottle of aspirin remain inside. It’ll do, I suppose. As I make my way back to her, I pause by my grandfather’s liquor cabinet and pull the sheet off. My lips curl. His whiskey bottles are still here…