Page 64 of The Hitman

I feellike a teenage boy with his first erection.

As soon as I leave the bathroom, I rush across the hall and throw on a pair of briefs. I put my holster and gun on out of force of habit before heading to the dining room to clean up after our meal.

If it were up to me, I would have left it all there until the morning, in favor of burying my face between Zahra’s legs or falling asleep with her body in my arms and my dick buried inside her. But I want to give Zahra — and myself — some space.

And thank God, I do. If I’d been in the bathroom combing through Zahra’s hair or crawling between her legs, I wouldn’t have seen the flash of headlights extinguishing just before a car turns onto the packed dirt lane leading onto my property.

I freeze with my hand hovering over the empty wine bottle, and I watch the vehicle I can only see now because I know that there should be something in its place. The car inches slowly toward the house. It can’t be going anywhere else, and there’s only one reason a vehicle would turn its headlights off so late at night.

I hesitate, wasting a few precious seconds. If I’d been alone, I’d already have moved into action; it’s second nature by this point. But I’m not alone. I can hear Zahra humming to herself in the bathroom. I never thought of a contingency plan for her because I hadn’treallythought anyone would show up here of all places, but they have, and I can’t do anything until I figure out what to do with Zahra. My priorities are perverted again, but I don’t care.

Thankfully, figuring a way out of dangerous situations is my specialty.

Once my brain kickstarts, I let instinct take over, and a plan — however imperfect and hasty — comes together. I rush from the dining room into the bedroom. I dig my burner phone from the bottom of my bag. There are clothes spilling out onto the ground. It takes me ten seconds to dig a new SIM card out of the carrier I have full of them, insert it, and turn the phone on.

It feels like ten seconds too long.

I shoot a quick text to Salvo’s cell phone and dial Alfonso’s number. He doesn’t pick up. I speak rapidly into the phone in quick, unguarded language, because, again, I’m not alone. Zahra doesn’t have time for codes.

“Se non ci sono, trovala e riportala a Milano,” I tell him, rushing back to the bathroom.

She jumps when I push the door open, and it hits the wall next to the shower.

“Holy shit, you scared me,” she breathes, clutching the knot of the towel against her chest.

“Good,” I tell her.

“What?”

“Here.” I shove my phone into her hand.

“What’s this?”

“There are some people coming now. Right now,” I say, struggling to speak slowly. I need her to understand me quickly. We don’t have time to waste.

“What?”

“Take this phone and follow me.” I don’t give her a choice. I grab her hand and drag her back to the bedroom. I open the wardrobe and push all of the linens aside. “Get in.”

“What’s happening?”

“We don’t have time for questions,” I hiss at her. I can see the confusion and fear in her eyes. Good. She should feel both of those things, and if I want her to live, I can’t coddle her or promise that everything will be okay. I don’t know that it will, and I refuse to lie to her. “Get in the wardrobe. I’m going to hide you behind the pillows.Do notcome out unless I come and get you, or until tomorrow morning.”

Her eyes are wet with tears. “Giulio?”

“There’s one number saved in the phone. If I’m not here when you come out, you call that number. It’s to a restaurant in Naples called La Casa Colonica. You ask for a man named Salvatore and tell him that you’re my wife and need help. Do you understand me?”

“Where will you be, if you’re not here?”

The question breaks my heart. I didn’t think my heart could still do that. “Don’t make me lie to you. Just promise me that you’ll call the number.”

“But—”

“It’s still my night. You have to do as I say.”

Her face hardens. “That wasn’t about this.”

My shoulders sag. I swear I hear a door slam shut outside, but that’s probably just my nerves. “I know, but we don’t have time for questions or for me to figure out how to explain what’s happening to you without lying. All that matters is thatit ishappening. Get into the wardrobe. Don’t make a sound. Call the number if I’m gone. Please.”

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