Lance: A Hitman Romance (Santa Espera #2) (17 page)

When the kiss is over and Lance pulls back, I open my eyes and see him smiling at me now, and a tickle on my cheek tells me that I’m crying again. I let out a soft laugh and pull one of my hands up, wiping the tear away. Lance just smiles.

After some time we get up from the table. Lance picks up the rest of his Egg McMuffin and stuffs it into his mouth. I go and stretch out on the bed, watching as Lance walks over to the window at the front and looks out, his eyes scanning the parking lot.

“See anyone?” I ask him, and he shakes his head, turning back to face the room. I smile up at him and run a hand over the bed beside me.

“Care to join me?” I ask. The ghost of a smile comes over Lance’s lips as he walks towards the bed, crawling up onto it and sprawling out next to me. We lie down side by side and drape our arms over one another, connecting together in a kiss.

“Mm,” I moan as we hold together. I’m sorry that this is going to end in a few days, but I’m going to make the most of it while I’m here.

Lance begins kissing down to my neck and I put a hand on the back of his head, leaning my own head back. As his hand slides down my side and grabs onto my ass, I say, “We should put something on to mask the noise,” and I pull away from Lance as I sit up, looking around for the remote control to the TV. I spot it on top of the thing, so I go and get it, turning on the screen as I come back to bed.

As I drop the remote control and resume my position beside Lance, the TV slowly comes to life and a woman’s voice, sounding stern, comes to full volume.

“… still don’t know the whereabouts of one Katherine Simmons, licensed therapist.”

Lance and I both freeze and we turn to look at the TV.

“For those of you just tuning in, reports of screams and gunfire were heard yesterday afternoon from the office of Doctor Katherine Simmons. Eye-witnesses say they saw Doctor Simmons leave with a large man wearing a black leather coat, but so far the police have been unable to track her down. The last reported sighting, not of Doctor Simmons but of the man, was by a police officer just outside of the building, where he said the man approached him, asked what was going on, and then got into a black Honda sedan and drove away, seemingly on his own.”

My heart is pounding in my chest, but when I look over at Lance his face is expressionless. He stares at the TV, watching it. When I look back they’re showing footage of my wrecked-up office.

“It seems that a gun fight broke out during one of Doctor Simmons’ therapy sessions, but it’s difficult to say with whom. No one was found alive on the scene, just the body of her receptionist, one Amin Asfour. He was found dead in the foyer, having suffered from two fatal gunshot wounds.”

The news reporter goes on describing the scene, but I’m not listening anymore.

“They didn’t find anyone but Amin,” I say. “But that means …”

“He got away,” Lance finishes for me through gritted teeth. I look over and see his upper lip start to curl. “That mother fucker managed to get away.”

“Lance … what if he-”

“Shh,” he says. “I need to think.”

Lance lets go of me as he gets up off the bed, pacing back and forth in the motel room, breathing hard as he thinks.

“Talk out loud,” I say to him, sitting up. “It’ll help organize your thoughts.”

“Okay,” he says. “Jackson got away. He must’ve snuck out before the police got there. Right after … FUCK! I knew I should’ve killed him. Ah, okay. He got away. He must’ve told those guys to come to my apartment, then. That explains how they got there that fast.”

“Do you think he would have gone back to Gil?”

“Definitely. He’s probably been there since last night. But Gil hasn’t tried calling me, and we haven’t had any trouble yet … Willy.”

“Willy?” I say as Lance fishes his phone out of his pocket.

“Willy might know something,” he says as he dials the number then puts the phone on speaker. I hear the hollow sound of ringing, and after a moment the other line picks up.

“Hello?” comes a far-away sounding Australian man.

“Willy, it’s Lance.”

“Oh … yeah. Hey buddy.” My skin prickles. Something’s not right about that tone. Lance seems to notice it too as he narrows his eyes.

“What’s going on?” Lance asks in a forced tone.

“Ah, nothing. Nothing. Same old.” We’re both watching the phone.

“Just wondering what’s going on at the restaurant,” Lance says.

“Yeah nah, same old. Just, uh, setting up for the next job, you know.” A moment passes and Lance is about to say something, but then Willy speaks up again. “Say, buddy. Uh … you talked to you sister lately?”

I see Lance freeze as he stares at the phone in his hand.

“No,” he says in a measured voice. “Why? You think I should give her a call?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you,” Willy says. “You should call her real soon.”

“Okay. I’ll do that. Thanks, Willy.”

“Yeah. Good luck,” Willy says, and then Lance hangs up.

“Fuck,” he says as he puts the phone back in his pocket. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Lance? What’s wrong?”

“We have to go,” he says, striding to the front door and putting on his boots. “Get your stuff, pack up. We have to get out of here.”

“What? Why?”

“Willy and I, years ago we came up with a code. He told me to call my sister. I don’t have a sister. He was telling me Gil knows where we are and he’s coming. Soon.”

“What?” I say as my heart skips a beat. “But … how can they know where we are?”

“I don’t know,” Lance says. “But you need to get on your shoes! He must’ve been searching all night. Fuck!”

I scramble off the bed and go into the bathroom where I left the running shoes Lance got me. Slipping them on and giving them a quick tie, I come back out to find Lance slipping on his jacket, his shoulder holster on underneath it. He then goes over to his duffel bag and lifts it up, throwing it over his shoulder.

“Where are we going to go?” I ask as he strides to the front door.

“I don’t know,” he says, but when he reaches the door he leans over and peers out the window first. He stops moving.

“Lance?”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath, turning around to look at me. “They’re here. They’re already here.”

Katie

They’re already here.
The words echo in my head, but I have no time to stop and process it. He’s already heading back into the motel room, stress etched across his face.

I walk over to the window, peer out and see a black sedan with tinted windows parked in the parking lot. Looking over at the front office, I see two strong-looking men step out. They tilt their heads up our way and begin walking towards the stairs. I quickly pull my head back.

“Oh my God, they’re coming!” I say, panic flying through me. “What are we going to do?”

Lance’s jaw is set as he thinks.

“We could fight,” he says, almost to himself. Then he shakes his head. “Others. The cops. We can’t.”

“What if we run?” I suggest, saying the first thing that comes into my head.

“Run? But …” Lance mutters. “Front, no. Car … yes. Window.”

He looks over at the far end of the room, at the empty square hole where an air conditioning unit used to be.

“Come on,” he says. “No time.”

He turns around and heads towards it, and I’m about to follow but I take a moment to go back to the door, sliding the chain lock in place and pulling the front curtains closed. Then, quickly following him, I watch as Lance sticks his head out the window for a moment before pulling it back, shoving his bag out, and letting go. It hits the ground two seconds later with a dull
thud
.

“Okay,” he says, looking at me. “You go first, I’ll follow.”

I swallow as he steps to the side, then I walk to the window and look out. I’ve never been one for heights, and even though we’re only on the second story, the drop down looks very far.

I pull my head back in.

“Um … I don’t know,” I say.

“What?” Lance’s eyes go wide. “Katie! Just go, I’ll follow.”

Just then, three loud bangs on the door make me jump. We both turn and stare at the door as, through the window, we see the dark shape of somebody just outside. Lance turns back to me.

“Go!” he urges between his teeth.

But I shake my head. He chews on his anger.

“Okay … I have an idea.” He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out his gun. Flicking off the safety, he hands it to me. “Do you know how to use this?”

I take the thing. It feels heavy in my hand.

“I … yeah,” I say.

“Okay. I’ll go first. Come halfway out, then fire a shot at the door. Right after that, jump and I’ll catch you.”

“But … but-”

“Hey,” Lance says, and he grabs onto my shoulders. He’s staring at me, and for some reason looking at him makes me calmer. “They’re coming. You need to be strong.”

I swallow what’s left of the saliva in my mouth, and then nod. Letting go of me, Lance climbs out the window as three more bangs come at the door.

“Lance!” comes a strong voice. “Come on out, buddy, we just want to talk to you!”

Lance drops from the window and lands with a soft thud. When I peer out he’s on the ground, turning to look up at me, his arms outstretched. My heart is racing like a rabbit and I swing one leg up over the window ledge, sliding myself through the open hole. Resting on my crotch, I raise the gun to the door and fire it.

BAM!

Yells and noises come from outside and I think,
Hey, that wasn’t that bad.

BAM!
I let off another shot. The noises have ceased outside and part of my mind wonders if I’ve killed them. I wait one second … then two … and then
BAM! BAM! BAM!
they begin shooting back.

My heart flying directly into my throat, I scramble the rest of the way out the window, my previous fear of heights having left me. Dropping out, I free-fall for a long, horrible second and then
thump!
Lance catches me and lowers me down onto the ground.

“I said one shot,” he says, taking the gun from me and putting the safety back on. And then, “But good job.” More shots from overhead and now I hear somebody in the motel scream. Lance stuffs the gun back in his coat before picking up his duffel bag and grabbing my hand. “Come on,” he says, and the two of us head around to the side of the building.

When we reach the parking lot, Lance keeps us hanging back a moment. The sound of wood splintering rings through the air and then we’re running again, towards the black car now, the two of us as exposed as can be in the broad daylight.

As I twist my head to look back at our room, I see the door wide open and movement coming from inside. A few seconds later we reach the car and Lance tries the driver’s side door, only to find it locked. Without warning, he rears an elbow back and smashes it through the window. I let out a startled yelp as Lance reaches in, unlocks the door, then opens it and uses the power locks to unlock the rest.

“Get in,” he says. I quickly go around to the passenger’s side door as Lance opens the back and throws his duffel bag inside. I open the door and brush off the square fragments of glass from the seat before sitting down. Lance closes the back door and he gets into the driver’s seat, his much larger pool of glass crunching beneath him as he sits. He closes the door and then dips down, yanking off the plastic plating and pulling down a mess of colored wires.

BAM!
A gunshot is fired. I look in the sideview mirror and see the two men on the ground, running towards us from the side of the building.

BAM!
Another, and I scream as I hear the
fzzt
of Lance fiddling with the wires.

BAM!
One more shot, another
fzzt
, and then the engine roars to life as the car starts up.

Lance sits up as two more shots crack through the air, but then he puts the car in Reverse and slams his foot down on the gas. I’m lurched forward as Lance grabs onto the back of my seat, twisting his head to see behind us. When I turn to look, I see both men coming towards us at an alarming speed.

Déjà vu.

The car thumps heavily as Lance runs into both men, and no sooner are they on the ground than Lance puts the car in Drive and peels away from the motel, speeding out of the parking lot, our tires skidding as we hit the road and then leave, driving north now and back the way we came.

Adrenaline is pumping through me. I’m breathing hard, still twisted in my seat as I watch the motel slowly recede in the distance. When I turn back to face forward again, I put a hand to my chest, feeling my heart hammer insanely against my ribs.

“Jesus Christ,” I say, and then I let out a long laugh as I try to keep my body from shaking. “Oh my Jesus Christ.”

Lance doesn’t say anything. He’s staring ahead as the industrial area comes up around us again, and then he takes a right, driving somewhere we haven’t been before.

“Lance?” I say, shaking slightly despite my efforts not to. “Where are we going?”

Lance shakes his head, his eyes blazing. “I don’t know. I don’t
fucking
know!”

He slams both hands on the steering wheel and I stare at him. He takes a left now, going north again. We’re skirting around the industrial area and coming up to new development in the distance — new suburbia.

“Hey,” I say, putting a hand on his arm. “What’s wrong? We got away! We’re safe!”

But Lance shakes his head again. “Gil. What the
fuck
is wrong with Gil? Why can’t he just give me some time? Why can’t he just back off for one second!”

“Hey, hey,” I say. “I don’t know. But we can’t freak out about it. Okay? We have to keep our cool.”

The large buildings around us begin to dwindle as housing developments take their place. Lance takes a turn and heads into one of them, surrounding us with rows upon rows of the same house, repeated over and over. In spite of the neat lawns and odd minivan parked here and there, this area is still being populated.

“I am keeping my cool,” Lance says, although his hands seem frozen to the steering wheel.

“No, you’re not,” I say. “You’re in shock and you’re freaking out.”

“
I AM NOT FREAKING OUT!
”

The entire car seems to shake at the sound of Lance’s voice. His face starts to go red and I gape at him, but then I set my jaw and narrow my eyes.

“Lance!” I bark. “Pull over! Right now!”

Lance hesitates, darting his eyes sideways at me, before swinging the car over to the side of the road, lurching to a stop right outside a little park.

“Park the car!” I command. He does. “Now turn it off.” He reaches underneath and does that too.

With the wires disconnected and the engine off there’s no sound save for the hollow pops of the metal cooling. Lance isn’t looking at me. He’s staring ahead, taking deep breaths, in and out.

“Okay,” I say to him. “Now what’s going on?”

Lance clenches his jaw. “There were people at that motel,” he snarls. “Innocent people. They could have gotten hurt.”

His gaze begins to lower as he drops his hands in his lap.

“Those guys didn’t care. They were just doing whatever Gil told them to do. They were just there to kill me. They would have killed you too, because you’re with me. They would have killed innocent lives just because they got in the way. Just like … with Danny.”

My heart skips a beat. I try to keep my voice level as I speak.

“What happened with Danny?” I ask him, and Lance blinks a long, slow blink.

“He just wanted to go out and play,” Lance says, not looking at me, looking at his hands instead. “We were kids. I wanted to stay in and watch TV. But Danny got out before I realized he’d left the room. He wandered off and wound up at an underground gambling ring. This mob boss saw him. The cops said he must’ve killed Danny on the spot, there were no signs of him trying to run. They left the body for us. And just like that. An innocent kid, dead. All for seeing something he shouldn’t have seen.”

Lance takes a deep breath as I watch him.

“That mob boss was the first person I killed. When I was ten. I killed him for taking Danny’s life.”

Outside I hear birds chirping in the sparsely planted trees. I watch as Lance blinks and a tear falls from his eye, down onto his lap.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” he says, shaking his head. “This isn’t what I wanted. This isn’t what I signed up for. I wanted to help rid the world of these bad men, but now … now I’m working for one. And I’m … I’m becoming one of them. It’s just like you said. I’m becoming a bad guy.”

Without warning, Lance opens the driver’s side door and gets out, broken bits of glass tinkling as they fall from the bottom of his pants.

“Wh- Lance?” I say, and then I turn and get out of the car too, shutting my door where Lance left his open. He’s walking quickly towards the park, his head down, swaying slightly on the grass.

“Lance, you need to talk about this,” I say as I jog to catch up to him. He’s still walking when I reach him, but when I put a hand on his arm he stops and looks down at me and I’m shocked to see that his face is streaked with tears, his eyes puffy and red.

“I don’t want to do this anymore!” he says, and he cries as I lead him over to a park bench. We sit down, my one hand holding his arm while the other one rubs his back.

“It’s okay,” I say to him, Lance’s face hidden in his hand, but he shakes his head.

“No. This isn’t what I wanted,” he says, muffled. “This isn’t what I wanted to do.”

“What did you want to do?”

His head lifts up. “I wanted to get rid of bad people.”

“And you did that, Lance,” I say. “You’ve been doing that for twenty years.”

He nods.

“I wanted to avenge Danny.”

“You did that too. You killed his killer, you did exactly what you set out and then you went above and beyond it. But people change, Lance. And I think you’re seeing that that part of your life may be over. It may be time for you to find something else. Something to give your life new purpose.”

Lance sniffs, a wet sound, and his tears have slowed down. He nods.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he says, and I nod too.

“Good. What else?”

“I want … to go somewhere. I want to start something … I want to start giving back.”

“That sounds good. What do you want to start?”

But Lance shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he says. “There are still bad people out there. But maybe,” he swallows, “maybe I can take care of them without killing them? Show them the error of their ways.”

I smile now. “Good, good.”

“I could persuade them. And … I could do it on my own. No more bosses. No more someone telling me what to do and what not to do. I need to start something of my own.”

My heart is beating quickly. “And to do this … do you think you would need some help?” Lance looks at me and my heart is hammering now, but I have to say what I’m feeling. “Do you think you would need somebody else? Someone who could help make this real?”

Lance’s eyes connect with mine and I feel so nervous.

“Katie?” he asks me. “What are you saying?”