Page 39 of The Hitman

She takes a tentative step forward. “Are you?”

I swallow slowly and take a deep breath in and out of my nose.

She stalks toward me on her long legs that are no longer shaking, watching me as intently as I’m watching her.

“Yes. Give me their names, and I’ll kill them for you,” I tell her in my deepest, scariest voice.

I don’t expect to see her shiver or to watch as her tears dry, and her eyes begin to dance with interest again. I also don’t expect to see the hard points of her nipples poking through the thin fabric of her dress.

“For me?” she asks in a small whisper.

“For you,” I admit.

“See,” she whispers, “that’s why I’m safest with you. You could have lied to me at any point in the last half an hour. You could have left me in the vineyard covered in blood. You could have sent me back to my room once we got back here, but you didn’t. I don’t understand anything about the world or my life right now, but I know safety when I see it.”

“I’m dangerous,” I tell her, even though I don’t want to admit even this to her.

She smiles at me now, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in years. “Obviously,” she says. “That’s why I’m safest with you.”

She’s close enough that I can reach out and touch her. I can grab her around the waist again. I can wrap my arms around her, pull her body against mine, and let my fingers sink into the soft flesh at her hips. I can let her know what it does to me to see her looking at me this way, but I don’t.

What I do instead is a mistake, I know that. It’s a mistake that will slow me down and maybe cost us both our lives. It’s a mistake that Salvo would never approve of. But since I don’t plan to tell him about it, what does that matter? Zahra has made her decision, and I make mine.

“I’ll check your room, and then you have twenty minutes. You need to shower and change into comfortable clothes and shoes. Put your bloody clothes in a plastic bag for disposal. Pack only necessities that you can carry. You can’t tell anyone where you’re going or who you’re with. Leave your mobile phone here.”

I give her these directions in the same tone I might relate a plan to Alfonso; clinical, cold, deadly. It’s my last-ditch effort to get her to change her mind. It doesn’t work.

“What about my passport?” she asks. So smart, sexy, brave, reckless. Perfect.

“Bring it,” I tell her as I walk to the door. My hand is already on the pistol at my back as I move into the hallway to make sure that her room is clear. A better man would take the elevator to the lobby and leave without another word. I can replace everything in my room, even the guns. I don’t need to go back, and if I don’t, she can’t follow me. But I’m not going to do that. I’m going to check her room and then give her the twenty minutes I promised. And then we’re going to run away.

Together.

15Giulio

We don’t checkout of our rooms, that’s an amateur move. Zahra leaves most of her belongings in the honeymoon suite I now know she was supposed to share with a man who definitely did not deserve her. I’ve already packed light, so I take everything that I’ve brought with me, knowing that whatever happens, I’m never returning to Villa San Marco. The sun is still out, although it’s dipped in the sky by the time we arrive at the Milano Centrale train station.

I keep a keen eye on my surroundings. The world feels even more dangerous with Zahra by my side. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt responsible for anyone’s safety but Salvo’s and my own. Alfonso can take care of himself.

Both of my bags are in my right hand, so my left hand is free to reach for my gun should I need it. I walk as slowly as seems practical toward the ticket booth with Zahra at my side. I try to keep my eye on her without actually looking at her directly.

I should have been clearer when I told her to change. We’re on the run. I thought she understood that and would put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She’s wearing another dress; anotherveryshort dress. We haven’t even left Milan, and she’s already a distraction, and yet I can’t make myself regret bringing her with me.

I stop at a bank of seats and motion for her to sit. I don’t like the idea of letting her out of my sight, but we’re much more inconspicuous apart. Very few people will notice a beautiful woman sitting in a train station by herself, but the ticket agent will remember a beautiful woman with a man who looks as if he might break the jaw of anyone who gets too close to her.

I drop my bags at her feet and crouch down in front of her. “Wait here.”

“Are you going to ditch me? Abandon me?” she asks. Her voice is small but determined, and her eyes are fierce.

I place my hands flat on her thighs. She shivers under my touch. “I said I would take you with me, and I don't lie.”

“Ever?”

“Ever.”

She leans forward and pins me with her beautiful dark eyes. “I believe you.”

“Good.” Bad. “Stay here while I get our tickets. Don’t speak to anyone, and don’t move from this spot.”

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