Page 4 of Unholy Night

Penn threw up his hands. “Are you fucking kidding me? You said you cancelled all the reservations.”

Fuck. I never mess up. Ever. “I thought I did. It must have slipped through the cracks.”

“Yeah and you checked her in. Could have turned her away but you took one look at her big tits and tight ass and your brain fell into your dick.”

“Like you weren’t fucking ogling her on the stairs. Fuck off. What was I supposed to do? Throw her out into the storm?”

Penn ran a hand through his blond hair. “Roman, the basement. She knows what we look like.”

“I know. Fuck. Just let me think.”

“This motherfucker won’t talk.” Zander waltzed into the room, wiping blood off his knife with a kitchen towel. He took one look at us and paused. “What’s going on? Why do you two assholes look like you just shit yourselves?”

His black hair was matted to his forehead. That was the thing about Zander, it didn’t matter if he was sweating, bleeding, or coming, his hair never fucking moved. And yes, I’ve seen him do all three.

“We have a situation,” I muttered.

“You know I hate that word, Roman,” Vance spat as he joined the party.

Fuck him. “Situation?”

He snickered. “We. If there’s a situation, it’s all you. The rest of us did our fucking part.”

Penn shook his head as he scrolled through his phone. “Oh, it gets fucking worse. She’s famous. Like really fucking famous.”

My stomach sank. No fucking way. “I’ve never seen or heard of her before.”

“That’s because you don’t read romance novels, Rom,” Penn spat.

Zander crossed his arms. “What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?”

This was fucking bad. How the hell were we supposed to carry out the job without witnesses when we had one fucking witness upstairs in the North Pole? And who the fuck uses Christmas related names instead of room numbers? This place was already giving me the creeps and now I had to deal with some mouthy, although, extremely hot woman snapping her fingers at us like we’re her pool boys.

“There’s a guest upstairs. One of the reservations didn’t get cancelled… It’s gonna be fine. If she’s really that famous author, she’ll probably be holed up in her room the whole time writing or something.” I moved to the door and locked all three deadbolts. “Once we get the info we need, we’re out.”

Vance leaned across the front desk and sniffed the air like a fucking bloodhound. “Chanel. Expensive. High maintenance.” He shook his head, sliding a hand through his light brown hair. “Nah, she ain’t holing up in her room all weekend. Great job, Roman. Now we have two fucking hostages.”

I looked around, speechless. He was right. Fuck. In the ten years we’d been pulling jobs together, this was my first big fuck up. Usually that honor went to Penn. I was the one who was always three steps ahead of everyone else. The four of us were professionals but sometimes shit got dicey and a slip up would happen. Just never because of me.

Penn was right. I took one look at her dark brown hair, green eyes, and banging body, and I checked out while my cock checked her in. Fucking literally.

Zander smirked, amused by the beating I was internally giving myself. He knew me better than anyone and could read me like a fucking book. “I only see a couple ways out of this, boys… Either we kill Mr. Basement, pretend we actually run this place, and then wish Miss Famous Romance Author well when she checks out on Monday. Or we kill them both right now and get the fuck out of here.”

Vance nodded. “I vote for door number two. If I have to spend three nights in the fifth ring of Christmas hell, I’m going to off myself.”

Penn fingered one of the many brightly colored lights framing the door. “Except you didn’t see her… Rom and I did. She was fucking sexy as hell. Isn’t that right, Rom?”

My cock stirred in my pants. Again. I nodded. “She also talked more shit than my Uncle Tony. Not some dumb chick any of us can manipulate.”

Zander perked up. “Is that a challenge?”

Vance chuckled. “You’ve gone and done it now, Rom.”

“We have a job to finish,” I snapped. “Let’s just get through this weekend and then we never have to see her or the basement asshole ever again. I mean, how hard can it be to look after one hotel guest?”

I had seen some really fucked up shit in my life—sickness, torture, dead crazy cat ladies in meat lockers—but the thought of waiting on some famous rich girl for three days was actually making me nauseous. But what choice did we have? I didn’t kill women. We didn’t kill women. Zander was just trying to rile me up even more.

Penn spit in his hand and held it out. “Then it’s settled. We make that piece of shit talk, take care of Miss Radleigh for the weekend, and then we’re out.”

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