Page 27 of The Hitman
He’s no longer laughing.
“Go on,” he says, deathly serious. “Pull the trigger.”
My finger hovers over it as I look toward Leo, peeking at me through the slit of the pantry door. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. My body is frozen in place, trembling with adrenaline and fear.
The man’s face turns red. His voice sharpens, startling my soul from my body when he shouts, “Do it!”
“Callie, get down!”
I hear his voice before I see him, and I don’t think, I just react.
My knees hit the granite floor with enough force to make me cry out. All at once, gunfire rings through the living space and kitchen. The glass panel of the koi pond explodes in a cascade of glittering shards and rushing water, and I hear Leo sobbing inside the pantry.
I scream, my grip tightening on the gun as Jaxon slides across the floor and wraps an arm around my waist. It misfires somewhere to our right as he quickly tucks us behind the island.
Bile rises in my throat, but he’s up and firing before I have time to register what’s happening.
“Where’s Leo?” Jaxon demands without looking at me.
I can’t respond. The sight of blood covering his neck, chest, and arms has me in a chokehold. Is it his, or someone else’s?
A ripple of nausea squeezes my insides painfully.
Everything becomes a blur of motion and noise. The intruder is shouting in Russian, shooting blindly across the room. Jaxon ducks, fires, shifts. His movements are fast, surgical. Lethal like he’s done this a thousand times before.
“Callie, baby. Stay with me,” he says between ducking and firing again. “Where’s Leo?”
“H-he’s in the pantry,” I manage, pointing across the kitchen with a shaky hand.
“Good.” His eyes lock on mine for a heartbeat. Steady. Safe. “You did so well. I’m proud of you, you hear me? So proud.”
I curl in on myself, clutching my stomach. “I want to throw up.”
“I know. I would’ve been here sooner if I hadn’t run into some of Volkov’s guys on my way up. But it’s almost over now. He’s hit, and he won’t last much longer.” He wipes at the mixture of sweat and blood on his forehead, giving me a pointed look. “I thought you said it took a lot to spook you?”
“Consider me fucking spooked!”
He flashes me that sexy, self-assured smile, and I can’t decide if I want to strangle him or kiss him.
When he attempts to fire again, the gun makes a hollow, clicking sound.
“Fuck, I’m out.” Without hesitating, he reaches for the one still glued to my hand. “Mind if I borrow this?”
Our fingers brush, and he winks before readying to take another shot.
“How are you so calm about this!” My voice sounds shrill and raspy, my throat dry in terror.
“Because this is what I do,” he grits, dodging granite debris that explodes from the counter. “Ordid, rather. But I’m not happy that you found out like this.”
I open my mouth to question him, but as soon as Jaxon glances around the corner, a burst of crimson sprays from his arm. He falls back with a pained hiss.
“Oh my god!”
He slides down against the cabinets, and I’m right by his side, hands frantic on his body but unable to process how I can help. I cover my head, gasping when the hanging lights explode above us.
“Tell me what you need,” I pant. “I don’t know what to do.”
Jaxon groans beneath me, clutching his arm while blood seeps through his shirt and between his fingers.
