Page 66 of Taking Care of the Target

She pressed her lips together, her chest caving in on itself like the words struck her. “This just keeps getting better and better.” With her free hand she wiped at her tears, but the knife remained aimed at his chest.

He almost pointed out that he could easily grab a much bigger knife from the block immediately to his right, but he doubted that would be comforting. “I told him I wanted to do it so it would be quick and painless, but I planned on taking you somewhere, changing your identity, and making sure you were safe. It was always the plan, I swear.

“But when I ran into you, you didn’t even remember me. So I talked Carlo into letting me keep an eye on you. The goal was to convince him to just let you live your life. I…I didn’t mean to get so close. But being with you let me forget who I am for a little while. I already liked you, and I just fell harder every day. I wanted to protect you, but I also just…wanted you.”

“I want to believe you, but I don’t. All you’ve done is lie and hide who you are. You…” Pain flickered through her features, and he wanted more than anything to pull her into his arms and tell her he’d fix it, whatever it took.

“I was going to explain everything tonight,” he said. “I knew it’d be hard to convince you and that you’d end up hating me, but we need to run, Cassie. The FBI is closing in on Carlo, which means he wants you dead. As soon as he told me to do it, I spent the rest of the day getting things ready. But we need to gonow.I don’t know how long he’ll give me before sending someone else.”

She shook her head over and over.

He held his hands up a little higher. “Let me grab my duffel bag and show you the forged documents I had made so you can start over. You won’t make it out of the city without me, but once I get you out of Trenton, you can leave me behind. Just let me get you far, far away from Carlo first.”

He started to move for the bag, and she lunged forward, still wielding the knife. “Don’t,” she said. “I’m sure you have a gun in there, and I’m not going to let you get it out so you can shoot me.”

Fuck, that stung. “You really think I’d shoot you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really know you at all, do I?”

The stinging deepened to a slicing, stabbing pain that took over his entire chest. He straightened and debated more explanation versus grabbing her arm, twisting it around, and disarming her. Explanation wasn’t getting him anywhere, yet he hated to hurt her. She’d also kick and scream. It’d be so much easier if he didn’t have to carry her out of the building that way; that’d definitely attract attention.

Then again, they didn’t have time for this.

Finally, he went with his instincts and took two large strides toward her. “There’s no way out but through me. What are you going to do, baby? Stab me and flee?”

“Yes,” she said, and he didn’t have the heart to tell her she was the worst liar ever.

A red dot flickered over her shoulder, moving toward her, and cold black dread seized him. “Cassie, get down now!”

When she didn’t move, he had no choice.

He dove on top of her. The knife slid into his side as a bullet hit the fridge, right where she’d been. When he lifted his head, Cassie’s nose nearly touched his. Her eyes focused on the knife in his side.

“I didn’t mean to,” she said, her words running together. “You—”

Another shot hit the fridge, lower this time. On the floor they were out of the line of sight, but that didn’t mean the sniper wouldn’t get lucky with a few blind shots.

Vince grimaced as Cassie pulled the knife out. Either it wasn’t that deep or adrenaline masked how bad it was. Maybe a combination of both. “Stay low, follow me.”

Vince army crawled around the counter and grabbed his bag. He motioned for Cassie to move, and thank God, she actually did. Placing his duffel and then himself in front of her, they crawled toward the door.

Pieces of the wall exploded and sent plaster raining over them, and whatever Cassie had on top of the counter slid off and shattered. Vince stretched an arm up to open the door, and a bullet hit so close that the wood cracked and splintered, and the knob came off in his hand.

He swung the door open with his foot. “Go, go, go!” he yelled, shoving Cassie toward the exit. Another shot hit the doorframe, only a few inches above her head. She let out a squeal but kept moving. Vince threw himself into the hall after her and kicked the door closed, even though it didn’t latch.

Even with his adrenaline running at full speed, the wound in his side started screaming for attention.Vince scooted away from the mangled door, breathing heavy and telling himself to get up.

He pushed to his knees, shouldered his duffel, and then reached down to check the cut. When he lifted his fingers, they came back slick and coated in red.

***

Cassie didn’t want to be holding the bloody knife, but not having a weapon seemed like a bad idea, so she kept a tight grip on it. She sat back against the wall, still in too much shock to yell or scream or run or…whatever she needed to do right now.

The gunshots must not have been very loud, because none of her neighbors opened their doors and poked their heads out to see what was happening. Then again, a lot of her neighbors were practically deaf and most likely already in bed.

Vince popped to his feet, grabbed her hand, and yanked her up. “We gotta move,” he said, starting down the hall.

She dragged her heels until he spun around.

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