Page 13 of Stolen By the Hit Man
Joaquin laughs, and I hate that I love the sound of it. “Guess I’m not the only one listening to other people’s conversations.”
I shrug. “The walls are paper-thin.”
Joaquin grimaces. “It’s an inside joke. I receive numerous phone calls from various individuals. For my job. Not a drug dealer.” He emphasizes the last sentence when he notices my suspicious look.
“Go on.”
“Some days, I have to step outside to answer the phone to protect my clients’ privacy. Nelly noticed this and made a jokethat I must be leading on a dozen or more women at one time. Which led to her calling me fuck boy.”
I’m confused. “You have a dozen girlfriends?”
He snorts angrily. “No! I have zero girlfriends. It was a terrible joke on her part. And she shouldn’t have said that where you could hear it.”
I turn away and plant myself on the ugly sofa. “It’s none of my business.”
He ignores this. “It was wrong of Nelly to say that because I wouldn’t want you to think I was interested in anyone else but you.”
Well, that took a turn.
“Jasmyn? Did you hear what I said?”
I nod. I suck in a shaky breath. “I…”
“Jasmyn?”
“I need a moment.”
I rise to my feet, and suddenly I feel dizzy.
“Jasmyn? Where are you going?”
Going? Are my feet moving?
I feel as if I’m floating through a nightmare. Before I understand what’s happening, I find myself running down the hall and through the kitchen. If I can’t leave through the front door, I’ll go out the way I came in.
Suddenly, my vision is tunneled. The metal storm door bangs shut behind me as the wind knocks me back.
And then, Joaquin’s presence is everywhere. The soap scent fills my lungs. The hard, defined arms are around me. “Breathe, Jasmyn.”
“I don’t know who I am.”
“You’re Jasmyn.”
“I shouldn’t be here! I made you attracted to a married woman!”
He’s laughing. Why is he laughing? What did I say that was so funny?
My knees wobble and my vision goes hazy.
The next thing I know, one strong arm is under my legs and the other supports my back. I’m being carried.
He sets me down in the chair behind one of the desks and hovers over me. “You need to let that shit go. None of that is real.”
Joaquin offers me a paper cup of water from a dispenser in the corner, and I drink it down.
“You don’t understand. I am married. I saw the piece of paper. It was signed."
“But you’re wife number five.”
