Page 40 of The Hitman
“Yeah, I—” I hiss when my tender lip splits.
He tilts my face, locking onto my cheek where a steady throb pulses under the surface.
Rage consumes him, cold, cynical. “I swear to you, whoever orchestrated this will have hell to pay.”
I tremble from the force of his promise. “No, Jaxon.”
“What do you mean,no?” Anger ripples through each word. “Every last one of them will suffer for what they’ve done.”
Our gazes clash. His filled with the promise of bloodshed, and mine with steadfast determination.
But I won’t let him slip back into his old ways. I owe the man I love that much.
Leo whimpers, tucking his face away from his uncle. “I want to go home.”
Jaxon blinks down at him, clearing the fog of revenge for a moment before reaching for his nephew.
I gently block him by touching his hand.
“We’re not going back to that life,” I say firmly.
Warring with himself, he glances back at the bodies on the ground. His jaw clenches, but eventually, the blind fury recedes and his shoulders gradually droop.
“You’re right. But whoever did this can’t go unpunished.”
“And they won’t,” I assure him. “But first, we need to regroup.Together.”
He cups my cheeks before kissing my forehead, then places his hand on Leo’s shuddering back. “Together.”
Chapter Twelve
Jaxon
Ten minutes to midnight, I walk through the living room and recheck every lock and tripwire I installed throughout the house. I don’t care if it’s the third time I’ve checked them, either. Because if it were up to me, I would’ve gotten us out of here as soon as we got home from the market, but Callie was insistent that we stay.
She said she’s tired of running, and to be honest, I am, too.
She and Leo sleep soundly, snuggled up on the couch in front of the fireplace. I watch them for a moment, their soft breaths and peaceful expressions squeezing my raw and ragged heart.
There’s nothing I can do to change the trauma I’ve given my nephew, and it kills me to have exposed him to any of this when I had every intention of leaving this life behind.
But for as much as I should regret what’s happened, I don’t. Because if I did, that would mean regretting the very woman who’s comforting him now, and I don’t regret Callie.
I love her.
The gravity of that realization hits harder than any bullet I’ve ever taken. What we have is new and terrifying, but she’s giving me everything I once convinced myself I could never have. And I want to give it back by loving her so fiercely, neither of us will ever doubt it’s real.
I quietly gather a quilt and cover them with it before walking to the back room and preparing for a long night.
After retrieving the flash drive I used to hack Volkov’s computer, I pop it into my laptop and sit back on the bed. The men who attacked us today didn’t have the snake tattoo Volkov’s men bear to show their fealty, which means someone else sent them, and I won’t rest until I figure out who.
Thirty minutes later, the metallic turn of the doorknob pulls me from the screen. The Glock I keep under my pillow is in my hand before I even blink.
The shadow at the door raises a hand submissively. “Easy, killer.”
“Callie.” Her name is a ragged breath as I lower the gun. I flip on the lamp at the bedside and swipe a hand down my face. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“You seem… tense.”
