Ryder: Hitman Mafia Romance (27 page)

Around 2 a.m. she decided to check on the man. She tip-toed into her room, using only the light of the moon shining through the curtains to see. He was on his side and looked peaceful enough. She watched him for a moment, saw his chest rising and falling slowly, and felt the relief wash over her. Hopefully in the morning, he’d still be breathing.

Chapter 2

The morning felt late when Fiona opened her eyes. Cuddles, Sophia’s bunny, was on the floor and the room was bright with light. She got up and immediately went to her room to check on him.

The first thing she thought was that he looked too pale. She went to him and put her hand on his shoulder. He felt warm, but not alarmingly so. She shook him gently and whispered, “Hey.”

He didn’t stir. She shook harder, starting to panic. Finally, he moved his head and his eyes opened as much as they could. The ice pack had fallen off in the night and sat on the bed beside him, a bag of water now.

She waited for him to stir enough to look at her. “How are you doing? Are you okay?”

He nodded slowly.

“Do you want to try to sit up? Maybe eat something?”

He slowly inched his way up until he was sitting with his back against the wall at the head of the bed.

His right eye was now swollen fully shut, but his left looked a little better. She could see more of his vivid green eye. His bruises were brighter purple and his lip and cheek had puffed out more in the night.

“More ice?”

He nodded and groaned. “My head is pounding,” he muttered.

“I bet. Here are the pills. I’ll get more water.”

She went to kitchen and poured him fresh water, then refilled his bag of ice. She mixed up a quick protein shake. This had always been her go to after Sam had hit her. It was easy to drink through a straw if necessary, gave some needed nutrients, but wasn’t hard on the stomach like a lot of food would be. And it didn’t require chewing, which never seemed a problem until every part of your face hurt.

Fiona brought the ice pack, water, and shake into the room, holding the ice under her arm. She quickly dropped the ice on the bed, then set the drinks on the hamper table. He picked up the ice and held it over his right eye.

“I made you a protein shake. They always worked well for me when I was hurting.” She stuck a straw in the drink and held it out to him.

He took a few sips. “Thank you.”

“So, can I ask, what’s your name?”

“Jasper. Paulson. You?”

“Fiona Mackintosh. Nice to officially meet you.” She gave him a thin smile. “Wish it was under better circumstances. Here, take some ibuprofen.”

She opened the bottle and poured out a double dose, handing it to him with the water glass. He took a sip of the water and swallowed the pills, which seemed to cause him pain.

“What else can I do for you?” she asked.

He laughed once, then groaned. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough? I couldn’t ask for better care.”

“Good. I’m just worried. All that bleeding. If you have any internal bleeding, that needs to be taken care of right away. You could die from it. And drink plenty of water. That’ll help flush out your system from all the adrenaline and from the extra work your body is doing right now to recover.”

“You a nurse?”

“No.” She hung her head and realized she’d maybe said too much already. “I wanted to be once. I work in a gift shop now.”

“Sounds nice. Much easier.”

“Yeah, I guess. Less blood at least. But more complaints about inventory.”

His visible eye glimmered as he looked at her. Though his lip and part of his face were swollen, she could tell he was very good-looking. She wanted to run her hand along the soft-looking stubble on his chin and feel his smooth cheek. He probably had a girlfriend, though. He wasn’t wearing a ring, but maybe he was even married.

“Are you sure there isn’t someone I should call for you? A wife or girlfriend? Mother or father or other family member?”

He shook his head. “No girl, not much family, and the ones I do have won’t talk to me. Though they might be glad to hear I finally got what was coming to me.”

“So, you deserved this? That doesn’t seem accurate. No one ever deserves to be beaten like this.”

“You know a lot about it, do you?” He tilted his head at her and drank more of the protein shake.

“I know enough, I guess.”

She tried not to be excited over the “no girl” thing, and instead focused on the fact that his family didn’t talk to him. Sam’s family hadn’t talked to him either. How similar were they really? Did she just attract abusive men? Maybe that was her type. Maybe she was destined to either end up in a good relationship with someone she wasn’t attracted to, which might be okay if he treated her well, or she’d end up with someone she was greatly attracted to, like Jasper, who would likely turn out to be just another wife beater. She was doomed.

“You have a child?” he asked.

Had she mentioned Sophia to him? “I do.”

“I saw the pink car seat. And did you know there’s a stuffed cat under the driver’s seat in your car?”

“Ahh. I did not know that, but I’m not surprised. Sophia has quite the stuffed animal collection.”

“Sophia,” he repeated. “And does Sophia also know a lot about physical pain?”

Fiona’s face grew warm. Sophia knew more than she wished she had. Sam had only hit her twice, both times were agony for Fiona, and the second time was what had urged her leave. It was one thing for her to take his anger, but she wouldn’t stand by and let that happen to her daughter.

“She knows enough.” Fiona stood. “Are you feeling hungry at all?”

“No, this is fine, thanks.” He held up the shake an inch. He still seemed to be in a lot of pain.

“Let me see if I have any clothes that will fit you.” Fiona went to her closet and took out an oversized t-shirt. She had some sweatpants that were big on her. Those might work. “Do you want to try getting dressed, or will it hurt too much?”

“Gotta get past the pain at some point.” He slowly turned and reached to set down the cup with effort.

She held the shirt out to him, but it was quickly obvious he would need help. “Don’t worry, I’m a professional at helping people get dressed. Put your arms up.”

He raised them, wincing in pain as he did. She bunched the shirt and slipped his arms through, then pulled the neck hole over his head. Her hand brushed the front of his stomach as she pulled down the shirt and she felt his heat and smooth muscles. She tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach.

“Hmm. I should probably take off the bandage to check your back.”

He leaned forward and she untied the pillow case corners. She gently peeled away the towel. It was crusted with blood, but it seemed like most of the wounds were doing better. “Hang on a sec.” She went to the bathroom, grabbed the washcloth, and wet it with warm water, then came back in the room. Gently, she dabbed and wiped to clear the fresh blood. Then, it was back to the bathroom for the anti-bacterial ointment and a fresh hand towel. “It’s looking better. That’s a good sign.” She looked down at the sweatpants on the bed. “I guess you’ll need help with the pants, too.”

He smirked and shrugged.

Fiona pulled back the covers by his feet. She didn’t want to reveal too much and make him uncomfortable. She scrunched the pants and slipped the first leg over his foot, then the other. She pulled them up as far as she could go without seeing everything.

“I can manage from there,” he said.

“Okay.” She flipped the covers back over.

He wiggled back and forth while tugging on the pants. When he seemed to have them high enough, he settled again.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Sore, achy. Like my head is going to explode. But better, actually. In some ways. The aching is worse, but the cuts feel better and my head and jaw hurt less.”

“They really did a number on you.” She checked over his face and applied fresh anti-bacterial ointment and bandages.

“Well, they were trying to kill me.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you know. My dog pooped in their yard too many times.”

“Must be a big dog.”

He nodded. “The biggest.”

***

Jasper stirred after falling asleep for a few hours. He felt his eye and the swelling seemed to have gone down some. The bag of ice lay at his side, melted. He could see out of both eyes though, so that was something. He stretched in the bed, every muscle aching. He hadn’t felt this sore since he’d first started working out and lifting heavy weights. And this type of sore was not the good type where you felt like you’d worked hard for it. This felt like a razor slicing every part of his body.

The pain in his back was sharp. How many times had they cut him? Assholes. They thought it’d be funny to slice up his club’s logo, like that meant anything. If the fight hadn’t been seven on one, he’d have taken any of them down. And, now that he thought about it, it said a lot that Leo had brought seven guys. Like he knew it would take that many to take him down. And, ha. They still didn’t manage it.

Should have shot him and been done with it. Idiots. That was what he would have done. Who needed fists and knives? If wanted to prove a point—shoot the guy in the leg and watch him hobble around for a while before putting him out of his misery. But, if you wanted to cause him real pain, you didn’t beat him and stab him. No. You shoot his family. His girl, his mama, and if he had kids, then you threatened them until he broke. Worked every time. Or at least every time he’d had to do it. And now there’d be several bullets with Leo’s name on them, and the other six who followed like lemmings.

He had to get out of Fiona’s house. If somehow they found him, they might do something to her. Who knew how far they’d go; since they seemed to enjoy torture, Fiona and her daughter would make the perfect recipients. Though he was grateful she’d come along to help him, and she’d taken fabulous care of him, he’d bring trouble on her, and she didn’t deserve that. Seemed like someone in her past had caused her enough trouble as it was.

He’d never understand guys like that. Weren’t there enough dumb ass men in the world to fight with? Why would you fight your girl like that? And to hit a child? Man, you had to be one lame ass dude to sink to that level. There were some things you just didn’t do. And if his mama had taught him anything, it was that you never hit a girl. Unless, of course, she was going ape shit crazy on you and kicking and punching your lights out, then you could slap her to keep her straight if you really had to. But only if you really had to. Most guys were decent enough to stick by that rule.

His hand clenched into a fist thinking about anyone hitting that perfect woman. Fiona. Even her name was like an angel. But that face and body. He’d give anything to have a woman like her. Okay. Almost anything. Well. He’d give a lot, at least. She was gorgeous. Smooth skin, long dark hair that he wanted to wrap around his fingers and pull while he ran his hands all over her tight little body.

He adjusted the sweatpants under the covers in case she came back in. At least he knew there were no issues with Little Jazz. But he needed to stay quiet for now. Nothing good would come of him being with someone like Fiona. She was too good and pure. Too innocent for his lifestyle. Even if he wanted her more than he could remember wanting anyone in a long, long time.

Things settled below the belt just as Fiona came back into the room.

“You’re awake,” she said.

“Did I sleep long?”

“A few hours. I think you needed it.”

“Yeah.” What he really needed was a bottle of Jack and some Vicodin, but the chances of her having either were slim.

“Can I get you anything?”