Page 66 of Hannah and the Hitman
I wasn’t sure if I should believe her that Joey Brains had gone to the library and tried to kill her. Yet the idea of it, of that fucker getting his hands on her, made me start to sweat.
“You’re a hitman. Go kill him.” She pointed at the door, perfectly content seeing me leave. As if.
I went to her, circled around. “So ruthless for a librarian.”
“You said he’s a mafia kingpin.” She turned to face me. “I’m guessing he’s not building houses for the poor or reading to the elderly in his spare time. Based on what I see in movies, he probably deserves to be dead.”
I frowned. “Definitely.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Murder the guy.”
I shook my head, tsked her. “It’s not my place to do so. But I need to know why he wants me dead before I do anything.”
“You can do that from here?” she asked, raising her arms to indicate the loft.
She didn’t notice I was circling her toward the leather couch until it was too late. Until she bumped into the back of it. The other side faced the huge vintage TV and a wall full of DVDs.
“I can because you’re going to give me the answers.”
Her pulse thrummed at her neck and her gaze met mine, then away. She was nervous. And aroused. Maybe it was the couch and the past promises of being railed over the back of one.
“I don’t know anything,” she admitted.
“You know Joey Brains has a gold tooth.”
“Yeah, because he was grinning at me as he tried to strangle me.”
I eyed her neck, saw for the first time the bruising there, which made me pause. Fuck, was she telling the truth? Had he laid hands on my girl?
Yeah, my girl, because I was a pathetic, twisted fuck who thought it was hot as hell that she’d gotten one over onme. Saved my ass, even. Threw Eyebrows across the parking garage like she was in the WWF. If she was a hitman, too, then she knew the life. My dick was hard thinking about it.
Except, if Joey Brains got his hands around her neck, she’d be dead.
“And you got out of that how? No way you could stop that guy from killing you if he had his hands around your throat.”
I wrapped an arm about her waist and spun her about so I had her hips pressed into the couch. The air sizzled around us and everywhere my hands skimmed, it felt electric.
“Are youfriskingme?”
“Hell, yes.” I didn’t think she was armed, but I also hadn’t thought she was an assassin either. Especially when I’d had my head between her thighs, and she was moaning my name.
“You planning on killing me? Run me over with a car?”
I let her go. Stepped back. “Jesus, fuck.” I ran a hand over my neck. “I told you, with Mrs. Metcalf as witness, that I’d never, ever hurt you and that I’d protect you from anyone who did. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to letyoukillme.”
“That’s why I came to you, the fact that you said you’d never hurt me.” She spun around, eyes narrowing, hands going to her hips. It wasn’t from the Bible, so I didn’t know the quote, but it was something about a woman’s fury and being scorned. Hannah was furious and it seemed she thought I scorned her. “Except it turns out you’re a Neanderthal and an idiot.”
“You threw Eyebrows twenty feet!” I countered. “If you’re not a hitman, then whoareyou?”
“You know who I am. I haven’t lied about a thing. Unlike you.”
“What did I lie to you about?”
“That you’re a hitman!”
“I told you that on the plane when you first asked me what I did for a living.”
“We were talking romance tropes. I didn’t think you were serious!”