Page 2 of Accidentally Kidnapping the Hitman

Still sitting rigid on my stool, I reach out and prod Annie’s shoulder, expecting my finger to go through her like smoke. Instead, it meets soft, smooth skin.

Annie’s eyes narrow, but she’s smiling too. “Wyatt?” she says. “You feeling okay?”

Wyatt.

Right. Shit.

That makes sense.

Annie’s not a hallucination. She’s here for my identical twin brother.

It was always him she spent time with at school, always him she came knocking on our door for, and I guess they’re still close after all. The realization sours my gut, eating at my insides like acid.

Jealous.I was always so jealous.

The feeling is so familiar, it’s like I’m thrown back to being a teenager again, staring out of my bedroom window and watching my twin and the girl of my dreams lying out on the lawn together, sunbathing in the summer rays. Wishing more than anything that I could go out there and join them, but knowing it was already too late for me.

“I’m good,” I rasp out. Annie glances at the dregs in my glass and raises both eyebrows.

“Since when do you drink whiskey?”

“Since tonight, I guess.”

Who knows? Maybe Wyatt and I have more in common these days. Maybe we’d get along better. Maybe I could walk away from the path I’m on, give up being a hit man for hire, and slot back into my perfect, upstanding family like nothing ever happened.

Yeah, right.

Annie hums, scanning me properly from head to toe. I swear to god—Ifeelher gaze stroking over me, and my skin prickles with nervous energy beneath my clothes. Is it hot in this bar? Fuck, I’m sweating.

“You’re trying the whole bad boy thing, huh?” Annie grins fondly as she reaches out, plucking at the sleeve of my worn gray t-shirt. Her fingertips drift to the tattoos wrapping around my arm, and she squints at my bicep in the low light. “Are these temporary?”

My head bobs robotically, because of course goody two shoes Wyatt would never get permanently inked. That would make him too reckless, too impulsive, too much likeme.“Uh-huh.”

“Wow.” Annie keeps tracing the ink on my arm, completely oblivious that she’s torturing me with her barely-there touch. My gut is clenched tight. I haven’t breathed since her fingertips made contact, and my whole body is screaming out formore, more, more.“Temporary tattoos have really come a long way. They used to be so lame.”

“Yeah.”

“They suit you, though.” Annie scans me again and laughs, delighted. “Seriously, you’ve never looked hotter. What a glow up! Brent is a lucky guy.”

Who?

“Anyway,” Annie says, holding up a cloth bag and waggling her eyebrows. “Ready for the bachelor night of the century?”

Wait, what?

My stool scrapes back and I open my mouth to speak, but Annie lunges forward and darkness descends. It’s musty and hot inside the bag, and panic spikes.

My fists clench by my sides. The knife in my boot is solid against my ankle… but I don’t reach for it. Not this time.

It doesn’t matter that I’ve killed plenty of times before. Doesn’t matter that if any other person tried to put a bag onmy head, I’d snap their neck without a second thought. This is Annie. She can do whatever the hell she likes to me, and she always could—even kidnap me from this bar.

So I guess that tonight, I’m Wyatt. Wyatt on his bachelor night.

Sounds kinda fun. I always did wonder what it would be like if we switched lives.

And what the hell? It’s not like I’ll ever have a bachelor party of my own. Maybe my twin will hate me even worse once he realizes I’ve slipped in and stolen his thunder, but hey. We all know I’m trash. Might as well enjoy my stolen night with Annie Lowell, because chances are I’ll never see her again.

“You comfy in there?” Annie drapes something light and ticklish around my neck to rest on my shoulders—something that feels suspiciously like a feather boa. “Wyatt? Can you breathe okay?”

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