Page 26 of The Hitman
“Take it away, Leo!”
And he does. He shakes his hips, copying the disco moves I showed him while belting into his fake microphone.
His cheeks are pinched with so much joy my heart nearly bursts from my chest. There’s not a doubt in my mind that Isabella, wherever she may be, can feel her little boy’s love.
I hear the front door open, and I spin toward Jaxon, excited to drag him into our fun. Tonight, we’re going to dance and laugh to our heart’s content and pretend like everything in our little world is just right for a few precious moments.
“Callie… Who is that?” Leo’s voice trembles behind me.
I freeze mid-turn, my smile dropping when I see a strange man standing in the doorway.
He’s older, fit in a lethal way, and gigantic. His slicked-back silver hair and sharp jawline might’ve been charming once, but there’s nothing warm in his presence. He’s wearing a tailoredblack jacket, black gloves, and when his lips twist into a grin, my blood runs cold.
“You must be the nanny,” he says, his voice smooth and accented.
My stomach twists.
“Leo,” I whisper carefully, not taking my attention off the intruder. “Go into the pantry.”
“But—”
“Now.”
Thankfully, he doesn’t argue, and when I hear the soft patter of his feet and the click of the pantry door sealing shut behind him, relief floods my system.
I don’t care what happens to me. I only care about keeping him safe.
“Smart,” the man says, stepping further inside, a gun gleaming in the hand at his side. “Pity it won’t matter.”
I back toward the kitchen, forcing my hands to stay visible and calm, even as my heart thunders. He follows me the way a predator tracks its prey before it strikes.
“Who are you?” I ask.
Just a few more steps to my right and I’ll be close enough to reach the hidden drawer with the gun.
“A man owed a great deal of vengeance.” Unthreatened, he glances around the room, face contorting in disgust. “Knight’s got shit taste.”
I take the opportunity to inch behind the island counter and quietly open the hidden drawer beneath the sink.
“I know, right?” My voice is breathless, shaky even.
“Funny. It’s almost too bad I have to kill you.”
The brute half-sneers, half-smirks.
“You don’t have to,” I say, carefully dipping my fingers inside the velvet case and wrapping them around the gun. “Jaxon isn’there. You could leave and let me live. I won’t tell a soul I saw you.”
“Perhaps.” He tilts his head. “But killing an innocent like you and the boy… That would make it personal. I don’t think The Reaper would recover from that.”
Bile rises from the pit of my stomach, and as swiftly as possible, I jam the clip into the bottom of the grip until it clicks. I’m operating on pure adrenaline, trembling like a newborn baby deer as I aim the gun at him—but the sliding mechanism on the barrel won’t close.
He laughs, boisterous and mocking, as I frown. “Okay, that looked a lot easier in the movies.”
“Silly girl. You don’t even know how to use that.”
I bat at the barrel in a panic. Every second I waste feels like my last until my finger slips over a button by the trigger and the mechanism locks in place.
I laugh in disbelief, rolling my shoulders back with pride before I point it at him again.
