Page 22 of The Hitman
He nods, then achingly sweet, he asks, “Will you let me?”
I rise on my tiptoes, desperate to feel his mouth against mine. His hand slides to the back of my neck, anchoring me to him like he’s scared I might vanish if he lets go.
“Let’s find out,” I breathe.
A sleepy grumble comes from the far hall, and we freeze, lips parted, breathing each other in.
“Uncle Jax?” Leo emerges from the hallway, half-swallowed by the dark while clutching a blanket.
We hesitate a moment longer before quietly stepping apart.
Jaxon waves his nephew over. “What’s wrong, bud?”
“I had a bad dream,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes. “About Mom.”
“I’m sorry you had a bad dream about your mom.” Kneeling before him, Jaxon takes the blanket from Leo’s arms and fastens it around his neck like a cape—exactly how he found us the day we built the fort. “But you know what? She’s going to be okay.”
“How do you know?”
Jaxon weighs his answer for a moment. I hold my breath, wondering if he’ll choose the truth or more lies.
“Honestly, I don’t,” he says eventually. “But me and you, we love her so much, right?”
Leo appears smaller than he is when he nods.
“Exactly. And that’s the kind of love that makes miracles happen. Never doubt that.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jaxon briefly presses their foreheads together before he lifts Leo up into his arms. Once he’s standing, he says, “Why don’t I tuck you back in?”
Leo answers by wrapping his arms around his neck, nuzzling his face into his shoulder.
I don’t expect him to turn back to me, but my heart flips when he does. “Want me to help you to your room next?”
The suggestion is subtle enough for Leo not to catch, but I arch a brow anyway. “I think I can find my way back without a chaperone, thank you.”
A spark of mischief lifts the lips I almost kissed. “You sure about that?”
Not really. Sleeping with Jaxon is unbelievably tempting, but things are delicate between the three of us, and I’m not sure having sex with my boss is going to make navigating any of it easier.
“Goodnight, warden.”
“Goodnight, Callie.”
Later, when I’m tucked into bed, staring out into the dark, my mind lingers on the intimacy Jaxon and I shared tonight. How scarily close I was to throwing logic out the window for a single moment of pleasure, and even more terrifying is how much I don’t regret it.
Chapter Six
Jaxon
Iwait for my contact on the roof of an abandoned meat-packing plant off Halsted, just south of the old Union Stockyards. The building reeks of rust, grease, and ghosts, and the air carries an icy chill.
My Death Bringers, the twin Glocks holstered at my waist, are heavy with the weight of their final mission. We’re going to drag Dimitri Volkov’s soul straight to the devil’s door tonight.
The stairwell door creaks open, and though I heard him approach five minutes ago, I at least try to act surprised.
“Remi,” I say smoothly.
