Ryder: Hitman Mafia Romance (28 page)

BOOK: Ryder: Hitman Mafia Romance
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“No, thanks. I just need to use the bathroom.”

 

He started by shoving the covers away, then turning so his feet hung over the edge of the bed. He scooted forward, pain shooting through him, and had to pause for a minute to breathe through it. They really had done a number on him, as Fiona had said. He’d live, obviously, but it was going to be a sucky few days.

 

Jasper pushed forward until his feet hit the carpet. Fiona hovered, watching his every move. It made him nervous, but he liked it. Kinda like his mama had been, always looking out for him, always trying to take care of him or do something for him. He hadn’t appreciated it when he was still at home, or even when his mama was still talking to him, trying every day to get him to give up his ways. But when Fiona did it, he wanted to scoop her in his arms and never let her go. She must be a fabulous mom. Curse the jerk who messed that up. She deserved someone who’d treat her right.

 

I would treat her right
, he thought, but he pushed it from his mind. No. He could treat her okay, sure. He’d be nice or whatever. He’d never hit her and probably wouldn’t even yell much. But she needed a quiet life. Probably liked to sit around on the weekends drinking coffee and reading the newspaper before going for a little jog. And she deserved that kind of cute suburb life. But with him, it’d be all bikes and guns and knives and drinking. She likely sipped wine at tastings while he held weekly contests to see which of his boys could down the most shots and still ride in a straight line. Spoiler alert: none of them could drink as much as he could.

 

He’d ruin her if he stayed. No doubt he could charm her into sleeping with him. Probably convince her to date him. He knew how to play the game, how to be sweet at just the right moments. But he wouldn’t live the quiet life, and he’d make hers too loud. She needed peace. Looked like she hadn’t had it in years. No, he had to get out of here as soon as possible and leave her be. And do something about her car. Would blood come out?

 

Maybe he’d just buy her a whole new car. She worked at a gift shop? She could probably barely afford this place. Yeah, a new car. That would mean a lot to her. And he’d drop some cash to cover all these towels and blankets he was bleeding all over. A few hundred? A few thousand. As much as he could gather. Maybe he’d sell that old clunker of a bike sitting in the garage for parts. It’d fetch a few grand and he could rock Fiona’s world and show her there were good guys out there. For now, though, he had to be able to walk across the room at least. Or he wasn’t going anywhere.

 

With a deep breath, he pushed up from the bed and stood. He took one step and the world spun around him. Black spots came into his sight. He’d experienced this before, plenty of times. He was going to pass out. Stood up too fast or something. He reached back for the bed, but missed. He landed hard on his knees and heard Fiona let out a cry. Then her hands were on him. On his shoulder, holding him up.

 

He closed his eyes and shook his head.

 

“Jasper? Jasper?”

 

He forced his eyes open and there she was, so close to him. Her brown eyes shone amber in the afternoon light, the highlights in her hair red brown. A chunk of wavy hair fell across her face and he reached out to brush it back. Her face registered shock and he realized what he’d done. He hadn’t even thought of it. Just knew that hair had to move because it was blocking his view of her face. He stared deep into her eyes. There was just one thing to do now. He leaned forward, with the full intention of kissing her, then stopped.

 

She held his gaze. She hadn’t shrunk from his touch, hadn’t moved away, wasn’t even looking away. He could kiss her and she would kiss back. He looked down and pressed his palms into the floor to get to all fours.

 

“That didn’t go as well as I hoped,” he said.

 

She took in a shaky breath. “No, I guess not.”

 

The way she looked at him, the hint of longing, the stronger sympathy. Man, she did want him to kiss her. He had her already. How would he ever resist that? Turn away this little angel who wanted nothing more than to help him? Who’d gone so far out of her way? No, no. She was too good. He’d only taint her.

 

“Here, you can lean on me,” she said. “Let’s get you to your feet again.”

 

She held out a hand and he took it. She tugged on him and tried to pull him up, but she didn’t have much strength. He pushed up from the ground and stood, still holding her hand. Then she moved under his arm as she had the night before.

 

He shuffled along, trying not to lean too hard on her, but the walls were still twisting a bit. They made it to the bathroom and she turned her back toward him when he faced the toilet. He almost wished she would look. He’d caught her glance when she took off his boxers. He’d thought of that glance through the night. Wondered how much she’d liked what she saw. Now as he pulled down the sweatpants to pee, he thought he looked even more impressive. His blood was flowing properly again, even if he was still low from losing so much.

 

He peed and flushed and pulled the pants back up.

 

“Was there any blood?” she asked.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Oh, good. That’s a good sign.”

 

She was still so worried about him. Though anyone would be worried about some random dude dying in their bed. He knew his injuries and knew he was fine. Or would be. He liked that she worried. Made him feel like someone on this planet actually gave a damn if he lived. None of his boys had hunted him down and come knocking. Good for nothings. They hadn’t even come to him when he was bleeding out all over the road. No, a stranger had to save his life. He owed them all a good beat down when he was recovered.

 

Whatever happened to looking out for your own? They’d make it up to him. They’d help him pay back Leo and every one of the guys who’d beaten him, and every one of the guys in his lame little motorcycle club. He wouldn’t try to recruit them for his club. They weren’t Crimson Hawk material. Not if they couldn’t even mange to take out an enemy who’d screwed them over.

 

Fiona helped him back into bed. She pulled the covers over him, and even though they made him far too hot, he left them where she placed them.

 

“Now what? What do you need?”

 

“Just some sleep, I think.” He turned over to look at the glasses beside him. There was still water. He reached for the bottle of ibuprofen, but she got it first. She poured out four and handed them to him, then picked up the glass of water and handed it to him as well. “Thanks.” He set the water down and let his head sink into the pillow.

 

He heard her soft footsteps as she left the room and closed the door. When she was gone, he pushed the blankets down and let the cool air cover his body. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

 

As his consciousness sunk deeper, his body did one of those full-body shudders that happened while you were falling asleep. The pain shot through him in a burst, and light sparked his vision for an instant. But it was just enough to send a memory flashing through his mind.

 

One image. Leo standing over him, shining the flashlight bright in his eyes before he brought his foot down on his face. It made his nose ache recalling it, and when he closed his eyes, his mind replayed the entire scene.

 

Jasper had been there, in the dark at the side of the road, where they always met. Look for the cluster of trees and the picnic bench. That was what he told people. Just after mile marker 58. He’d been there, waiting. He should’ve brought a few of his guys. He always did for stuff like this, but he’d gotten the call on his way home from getting food and they wanted to meet right away. That was his first mistake. He’d been too eager for the sale and had broken his own rule. Never meet alone.

 

And now that he thought about it, Leo probably had guys tracking him, watching to see when he was alone, then he’d had that guy John call to ask for a deal. Leo had planned this whole thing to make it as easy as possible for him. No one on one fighting like men. Not even club on club. Oh no, had to make it seven to one. Seven to one. What kind of an asshole did that?

 

Jasper had sat in his car in the dark, ready to take off if anyone happened along who shouldn’t be there. Then he saw the car flash its lights three times. This was the sign. The car pulled over and John got out. Jasper went to meet him behind the cover of his car.

 

“This stuff is pure?” John asked.

 

“Taste it.” Jasper waited while John peeled open the bag and stuck in a wet pinky to taste the cocaine.

 

John nodded. “Where’d you get this? This stuff is good.”

 

“Five hundred.”

 

“You sure that’s all? How can you afford such low prices? You know that other guy charged me six.”

 

“Yeah, well, I guess you found the better deal, then, didn’t you?”

 

“Too bad you didn’t.” This voice had come from behind him and he recognized Leo.

 

It took him a half second to realize this wasn’t just another drug deal. This was a set up. John, if that was even his real name—probably wasn’t—took off with the money and the coke. Then, a group of men piled out of a car and came at him.

 

Jasper managed to get his gun out. He rarely went anywhere without it, especially when he was doing a deal, and he wouldn’t dream of not having it on him, loaded and ready to go.

 

From behind, Leo tackled him to the ground. That, Jasper had not been expected. Guns, knives, fists, yes. But he’d had his eye on the guys approaching and though he hadn’t forgotten Leo was behind him—in fact, he was moving to get in a better position so that Leo wasn’t behind him—Leo had taken him by surprise.

 

Jasper kicked himself for that repeatedly, but in the end, it likely wouldn’t have mattered. Seven men converged on him. They punched him and kicked him. One of them took a knife and slashed up the Crimson Hawks logo on the back of his jacket. They cut straight through the leather, into his skin, and every slash was a hot whip that made him arch his back in agony.

 

Once he was on the ground, they’d gotten his gun from him quickly and he hadn’t been able to reach for the knife in his boot. One of them had found it, and to add further insult, had made a point of saying it was his own knife that had cut up his back. That was why he thought they would just shoot him. So it could be his own gun that killed him. But for whatever reason—sheer stupidity maybe—they hadn’t. And they’d pay for that mistake.

 

He wondered about his car. They’d taken his keys, and when he came to, the car was gone, but surely they hadn’t taken it. It would lead the cops right to them if they thought they’d killed him. Being in possession of a dead man’s car would require quite an explanation, or quite the bribe. Maybe it was just pushed into the woods. More likely, it’d been stripped and sold off for parts. Good thing he hadn’t driven his bike. If they’d messed with his bike, they’d really pay.

 

Jasper leaned his head against the pillow and closed his eyes. But every time he did, he saw flashes of fists hitting his face, felt them kicking his sides and stomach, felt the stinging cuts across his back. And then the eerie silence. When he’d passed out, they’d stopped at some point. He woke up and the world around him was so still. He’d tried to sit up, but everything spun and he collapsed again, kissing the gravel. He’d lain there, hoping for salvation. For one of his boys to come along and see him. For someone to help him. And then Fiona was there.

 

When he’d opened his eyes enough to see her, she seemed to glow. Of course, it might have been him half hallucinating from the pain, but he’d never forget that first sight of her. The concern on her face, the way she reached out to see if he had a pulse. And then how she’d helped him into the car, had listened when he said not to take him to the hospital. How many women would have done that? And then she’d cared for him ever since. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was falling for her already. And then figure in her perfect face and body. She was the whole package. Despite whatever he tried to tell himself, he wanted her. Badly.

 

 

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