Page 23 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption
“Is that what you tell yourself, Quinn? To sleep at night? You had to do it?”
Every instinct in me jangles alarms.
And Quinn?
Shit.
I let it slide. Quinn, Torin, monster. To her, they’re all the same.
She hit on something, though. Something dark and agonizing, and I could hate her for it.
Because she’s right. Maybe I do tell myself I had to go back for Shiv, that I had to do it.
But no, it doesn’t help me sleep. Not at all.
“Can we discuss this somewhere else?”
“This is fine,” she says. “An empty par?—”
Her words are swallowed by the whiz of a bullet. It lodges into the tree next to her.
I don’t think. I tackle her down to the ground, covering her with my body.
Our lips are close, and all that softness is now mine to covet. Her lips call to me, the bow of them, generous and unmarred by makeup, look sweet and delicious.
Fuck.
I shove that thought down, even as it throbs hard in me.
“Do you have a gun?” I ask her quietly.
“No. Don’t you?”
I close my eyes. Breathe as I listen. The rustle of the breeze in the leaves, the sound of traffic and voices all around the oasis we’re in.
Then a twig snaps.
I pull out my knife and flick it open.
Harry gasps, her eyeswidening.
A crunch of leaves underfoot follows. And another.
Whoever it is wants to get in close for the kill.
In my periphery, I see the guy on our right. I hurl the knife as he raises the gun.
It hits its bullseye, right in his eye. The man crumples to the ground.
“Stay the fuck here,” I say through clenched teeth and roll off her completely. I run over to him, low to the ground. After patting him down and finding nothing, I pull out my knife, wipe it off, and pocket his gun.
I turn to tell her it’s safe to move and my fingers ball into fists.
Fuck my life.
Harry’s gone.
Again.
