And why the hell had my heart skipped a beat when he’d called me beautiful? He was obviously conning these people. They had no idea he was a merciless killer.
“Oh, she must be someone special,” the old man said, winking at me and then tipping his hat. It looked like some kind of fedora or something decades out of style.
I forced a smile, standing there awkwardly on the curb, wondering what they’d do if I started screaming that I’d been kidnapped. Would Leon gun me down in front of his mother’s house?
I should do it. This was my chance. I drew in a deep breath and…
…didn’t say a word. I let out my breath, and it steamed all around my face. I kept smiling while calling myself every kind of coward one could imagine. But I…couldn’t do it. I knew I was being a fool. This was the equivalent of believing a rattlesnake could ever be a pet.
What was I saying? Leon was no one’s pet. But hewasas dangerous as a venomous snake. I’d seen him strike. He’d shot the driver of that car in the face without hesitationbeforethey started shooting at us, and the guy had probably worked for my father.
The old people continued up the street on their walk, moving as fast as tortoises. Leon squatted at his duffel bag and dug inside. He pulled out something square and silver-gray. When he unfolded it, I still didn’t know what it was. It wasn’t until he draped it over the car that I realized it was some kind of car cover.
He was hiding the vehicle. The man was paranoid. But who could blame him? When my father found out I’d been kidnapped, Leon’s lifespan was going to shrink to days instead of decades.
The thought sent a chill deep into my bones that had nothing to do with the December cold. I tried not to think about the kinds of things my father would do, but I knew enough to understand it wouldn’t be pretty.
So why couldn’t I cheer for that? I’d been kidnapped. I was terrified that I was going to be hurt or killed. Not to mention I should be enjoying a Christmas vacation in the Caribbean. But for some incomprehensible reason, I had mixed feelings about Leon being killed over what he’d done to me…
Leon finished securing the car cover and walked to where I waited on the curb like one of the Christmas decorations in the yard. We shared a look, and I could see that he appreciated me behaving myself. That made me furious enough that I considered running into the street to flag down the next passing car.
But the street was quiet, empty of traffic, and I was all bark, no bite. Some tough girl I’d turned out to be.
“Thanks,” he said after a moment of quiet between us.
“Don’t thank me,” I snapped. “I didn’t want you shooting those nice old people because of me. They certainly don’t know what a monster you are.”
He raised an eyebrow, but I couldn’t tell if he was amused or angry. “You’re right. That’s why I’m thanking you.”
I clamped my mouth shut and glared at him. I didn’t have anything good to say, so I didn’t say anything at all. For once in my life, anyway.
He picked up the duffel bag and started to escort me toward the front door of the two-story Colonial. It was a small place but obviously cared for, even if over-decorated for the holidays.
As we walked up the brick pathway to the front stoop, Leon slipped his arm around my waist. The movement was both casual and possessive. Marking me as belonging in his arms, which was an utter lie. It made me regret keeping my mouth shut only a moment ago. Leon always had to go and ruin things. It was as if he did it on purpose.
He must’ve felt me tense. He didn’t look at me, but he said, “I hope you don’t mind me touching you.”
“I do.”
“And here I thought you were in my corner now,” he replied but didn’t remove his arm from around me.
“That’s because you’re an idiot.”
He laughed. “You’re playing your role perfectly. My mother will think we’ve been married for years.”
“I can’t believe you actually brought me to your mother’s house. Are you insane?”
“My brothers are showing up to help me. The whole MacCarrick Mafia. You should feel special. We don’t do this for just anyone.”
I glanced at him, trying to tell if he was having me on. “You have a mafia?”
“Not exactly.”
I let out a long, frustrated breath. He was toying with me. Again. “You do realize that being curt and distant isn’t cool or mysterious. It’s tedious and annoying.”
“You don’t go for the strong, silent type?” We arrived at the bottom step of the stoop. He stopped and looked down at me. My heart did a little jump and jitter in my chest. He hadn’t shaved. His stubble was dark. I knew that if I touched his cheek, the stubble would rasp against my hand like sandpaper. If he kissed me, I’d feel it against—
What the hell was wrong with me? Had he hypnotized me somehow? This man was a contract killer. He was as dangerous as a hungry tiger. Didn’t tigers have green eyes too?
