CLASS ACT (A BRITISH ROCKSTAR BAD BOY ROMANCE) (29 page)

“It’s not like I’m in a condition to be a front man any time soon,” I explained, pointing to my back. “It gives us plenty of time to prepare for the exam that’s due in five months.”

“Rest up,” Charlotte said, drying her tears and planting a soft kiss on my lips. “Just because you save me from certain death doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you.”

I lied back down on the bed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The middle-aged English woman scanned the sheet of paper like a hawk. At the end of the day, it was still one sheet of paper out of the thousands she would stamp. For us, it was years of hard work and sacrifice given physical form.

If she knew that she was stamping rock god Heath Lawrence’s certificate, then she didn’t show it. A big enough hat and sunglasses combo usually hid Heath’s distinctive mug. Or she wasn’t a fan. That was a rarity now that Double Damage was more popular than ever.

Finally, the woman handed the sheet of paper to Heath. “Next!”

It was official.

Heath Lawrence had passed the GCSE and gotten his special certification. My lover was so stunned that I had to pull him to the side. Another man stepped up to receive his certificate.

“Congratulations,” I said, walking with him to the office’s exit. “You have proven you can tolerate several years of boring homework like millions of other British citizens.”

Heath laughed as I kissed him. “When you put it that way, this doesn’t feel much of a victory.”

“It is a big win,” I replied, walking with him. “Don’t think it’s insignificant. Some of my students spent over thirty years of their lives trying to earn what you did in three.”

“It feels so light,” he said, stopping at a corner that allowed us some privacy. “I guess it’s more about the journey than the destination.”

So much had happened over the last three years. The Howard Lane Foundation was doing better than ever. It had helped advances in Leukemia treatment and early diagnosis for various cancers. It had put a roof over the head of countless children. It had helped dozens of aspiring musicians pursue their dreams.

As for Jared, he was serving fifty years in prison. Rumor had it that he had purposely violated his probation so he could stay in longer. The moment he got out, the loan sharks would get him. Heath always told me it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy but I shuddered whenever I recalled that faithful night.

But the less said about him, the better. He wouldn’t be bothering anyone anytime soon. Sterling Records paid back the money Jared stole from the Howard Lane Foundation and added some extra for good measure.

I gave Heath another kiss. “You must be proud to have this certificate, Heath.”

“Not as proud as I am to have our marriage license,” he said, returning the gesture. His finger brushed over our wedding ring. It was a large diamond on a white gold band. It was just as beautiful and gaudy as the man who gave it to me. “I never thought I’d ever tie the knot with a woman and go steady. Howard must be laughing at me up from heaven.”

I could’ve swooned right there and then. “You always know the right things to say to me.”

He chuckled as he led me outside of the offices. “Well, I am an award winning wordsmith. I have a knack for these things.”

I grabbed Heath’s hand and stopped him. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a way with words.”

My husband’s eyes narrowed in concern. “Charlotte, what’s going on?”

I placed a hand on my abdomen. “I’m pregnant.”

Heath’s jaw dropped in disbelief at my blunt revelation. “What?!”

“I just found out a few days ago…”

“I’m going to be a daddy,” he whispered, bring a hand to his forehead. “The band is not going to believe this!”

“I hope you’re not upset,” I said gingerly. “With all the traveling we did, I kind of lost track of my birth control cycles…”

“Upset?” he said with a brilliant smile, placing a hand on my abdomen over mine. “I couldn’t be happier!”

I exhaled in relief.

“I’m going to do what my father couldn’t,” Heath said, a solemn look on his face. “I won’t make the mistakes he did. I’ll always be there for you and our child. I’ll even take a break from Double Damage. God knows we could use the time together.”

I took him in for a deep kiss. “Thank you.”

A boyish grin appeared on his lips. “Maybe there’s another way we can show each other thanks, Mrs. Lawrence.”

“In that case, I have a special assignment for you, Mr. Lawrence,” I whispered to the man I loved. “See me after class.”

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One shot.

One kill.

That was my creed back when I was with the marines.

I watched as the target exited the car. He was short and rotund. That’s my least favorite type of target. It’s easily to misjudge a vital point and lodge a bullet in some useless piece of flab. This needed to be a headshot.

I loved a good challenge.

As a marine, I got medals for dusting the bad guys. They even called me hero for killing people half a mile away in the middle of a goddamn desert. At least with the mafia, you can kill people from an air-conditioned room.

The target was now a hundred paces from me.

The mafia doesn’t give you medals for killing people. I get cold hard cash and a pat on the head for my work. At the end of the day, they’re just the same as the military. They need someone to do their wet work for them and they’re willing to pay top dollar for it.

It’s funny how the more things change, the more things stay the same.

Eighty paces now.

I thought I’d leave the killing behind when I returned home from the war. I guess the killing itself wouldn’t leave me. No matter how much I tried to run, the killing always caught up to me. My time in the marines had made me good at killing people, breaking things, and nothing else.

It’s hard finding honest work as a civilian. The military is good at training you and pointing you in the direction of their enemies. They’re bad at making you a model citizen who can hold a regular nine-to-five job.

Seventy paces.

The mafia gave me direction that I needed. More importantly, they pay me for being a killer. It doesn’t hurt that I’m mafia royalty.