Page 102 of Hannah and the Hitman
Good. About fucking time. I skirted around the beds. “Let’s go.”
I pulled out my gun. Dax did the same, then followed.
70
HANNAH
With a flick of his wrist, Sal pointed the gun toward the front door. With the other hand, he tossed back the remainder of his scotch. “Let’s go. I can’t stay here any longer.”
“You’re not going to kill them?” I asked, making sure he would spare my family before I agreed to go with him.
“I’d be doing you a favor if I did,” he muttered.
I heard a creak from the stairs. I knew every sound those steps made, having grown up in the house. Flicking my gaze in that direction, I saw… Jack. What? How had he gotten upstairs?
The thumps. How had they gotten on the roof? Oh my God. They used the trampoline.
“Why are you smiling?” Sal asked. “Is it because you’re leaving?”
“Yup, that’s it,” I said, nodding. “You’re going to need toput the gun away to go outside. There are kids out there. A lemonade stand.”
He eyed me as if he didn’t trust me.
“I thought mafia guys didn’t mess with kids.” I poked at his sense of honor, and he tucked the gun in the back of his pants.
“Why did he have a gun out in the first place?” Mom asked. “It makes no sense.”
“Because he’s a bad guy!” I shouted. Jack moved down another step and I saw Dax’s legs behind him. “Mom, he’s abadman.”
“Then why are you going with him?”
“So you don’t die!”
“Why would he kill us? We’re perfectly respectable people. We’ve done nothing wrong.”
The mother-daughter argument had Sal distracted. I used it to my advantage. “Because–” I began. With the gun tucked away, I flung myself at him and grabbed him by the biceps. With one lift and toss, he flew toward the stairs. He went hurtling through the air and landed on the wood floor with a heavy thud, then slid a few feet.
Jack jumped the last few steps, flipped Sal over onto his back, straddled him and then punched him like he was in an MMA cage fight. Dax let him have a few hits, then made him stop.
Mom cried out in surprise.
Dad called out. “It’s the mortician!”
Perry hurried into the room. Took in the scene and shook his head. “Three men, Hannah? So much sin.”
I went to my brother, patted him on the shoulder. “Only one, Per. I’m sinning so much with only one.”
He sputtered as if I’d admitted to tossing a bag of puppies into a creek.
“Enough of your bullshit,” I said to him. “I know about the woman in Denver you see on Wednesday nights. The money you’re funneling from your followers.”
Mom gasped. “How do you know about all that?”
“Because, Mom, I see things. I’m not invisible. I might have my head in a book, but I pay attention. Unlike you.”
“What are you–”
“I’m opening a bookstore, Mom. I’m sellingthosebooks. It’s been my dream and I’m going to make it happen one of these days. It’s not the Olympics and it’s not a cult. I’m in love with a hitman and–”