The Hitman's Property (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Book 2)

by Tia Lewis

“Take it,” I said. “Besides, it should be enough to fix your precious lady.”

  Both Tommy and Tess began to cry.

  “Thenk yuh, thenk yuh.” Tommy whispered.

  “You deserve it man.”

  “Mi a guh to miss yuh.”

  “I’m going to miss you too, Tommy.” I smiled.

  “Okay, okay. Enough chatting,” Tommy wiped his eyes. “Yuh ready fi guh?”

  “I’m ready. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time,” I said as I smiled at Tess, and she smiled back. “Tess?”

  “I’m ready too,” she grinned back.

  26

  Three Months Later

  Winter had come to the English seaside resort of Weston-super-Mare: a pier-toting, arcade-proud, cider-swilling, farmer-loving town in Somerset, England. Snow rested on the beach, coating the sand in pure white, and ice crusted the railings of the pier. It was seven o’clock on Christmas Eve, and the boardwalk was full of parents and their children. Two little boys, both wearing red mittens and matching red winter hats, skipped along side by side, jumped up and pulled on their mother’s coat, and screamed: “Christmas!” A father lifted his little girl and placed her on his shoulders, and the two of them peered over the railing at the beach wall and looked down at the snow-blanketed beach.

  Tess and I walked hand-in-hand along the beach, through the snow, wearing puffy jackets and gloves. I wore a thick black jacket, boots, and black jeans. On my hands, I wore black gloves. I sported a beard which was flecked with white flakes of snow. The scar on my face was fading and throughout my body but tinged here and there; in a few months it would be entirely healed; and long after almost faded. Tess wore a puffy pink coat, pink mittens, and white jeans. On her feet, she wore brown snow boots.

  “I still can’t get used to the accents,” I said, as I held Tess’ hand and led her toward the snow-covered benches that sat on the beach wall and faced the beach. Christmas lights had been wrapped around the wall’s railing, and they twinkled, green, yellow red and blue. “I can’t understand half of what they’re saying.”

  “Oh, that isn’t just you,” Tess said. “I’m from London, remember. This is farmer-speak. I don’t understand it any more than you do.”

  I wiped snow from the bench, leaving it piled on the ground, and then Tess and I sat down, side by side. We looked out upon the ocean, which glimmered under the light of a thousand stars from a clear, deep evening sky.

  “This is peaceful,” Tess said, snuggling next to me.

  I lifted my arm and hugged her close to me, a gesture that was becoming way more natural than it had been before. She nuzzled into my chest and peeped up at me under her eyelashes.

  “Are you bored yet?” Tess said. “Are you bored of not being Liam, The Animal?”

  “Tess, I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of that,” I said. “This is the first time in my life I don’t have to worry about ‘going to work” tomorrow. It ain’t so bad.”

  “Maybe I’ll think you’re less of a man,” Tess teased, jabbing me in my abs. “Maybe I’ll get bored.”

  “Yeah? Then go and get yourself kidnapped again. That way I can rescue you again and prove myself to you. I’ll risk my life a thousand times over for you because you’re mine.” I smiled.

  Tess blushed.

  “Or we can sit here on this cold bench on this cold night and think about Christmas tomorrow.” I added.

  “Sounds like a plan to me.” Tess smiled.

  “This will be my first time celebrating Christmas. You know that?”

  “Ever?”

  “Yeah, and I couldn’t be more happier than be celebrating it with the love of my life.”

  “You always know how to make me smile.”

  “It’s my job.” I winked.

  “So… what did you get me for Christmas?” Tess asked.

  “Slow down, Tess!” I laughed. “You’ll have to wait and see, sweet thing.”

  “Oh, come on!”

  “Don’t you know? I’m a proper man now. A real proper man who plays by the rules. And one of the rules is you can’t open your presents early.”

  “You really won’t tell me?”

  “I can tell you one thing, Tess. I can tell you I never thought I would be buying a present like that in my life. And I can tell you that Samantha and Andrew Simmons might get married for real. But maybe that’s giving it away too much?”

  She disentangled herself from under my arm and gazed up at me, wide-eyed. Damn, that look still got me. I knew that look would get me forever. Even when she was old, and the skin around her eyes was wrinkled, those eyes would still get me.

  “You’re not bloody serious!” she cried, bringing her hands to her mouth. “No, Liam, no!”

  “Too soon?”

  “No! No!”

  I grinned. “Is that your answer, Tess? ‘No’?”

  She jabbed me again. “Can I see it? Is it Shiny?”

  “Didn’t know you were that sort of girl. Getting all giddy over an engagement ring.”

  “An engagement ring!” she cried. “Liam! Do you mean it?”

  I sighed. “I guess one more broken rule…” I reached into the pocket of my jacket and brought out a small black velvet box. Opening it, I showed her the ring: a 14k white gold diamond ring. “That looks pretty damn shiny to me.”

  Tess snatched the ring from the box, pouted at me, and slid it onto her ring finger.

  “I take it that’s a yes?” I laughed.

  “Yes! Of course, it’s a yes! Now, are you going to kiss me or…”

  I grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her toward me, kissing her fiercely under the shining Christmas lights.

  27

  I woke on Christmas morning to Tess looking down at me, somehow smiling and looking sad at the same time. I took her hand in mine, her ring-bearing hand, and ran my thumb up and down her ring finger.

  “Is something wrong? Having second thoughts, huh?” I asked.

  “No,” she said. “No, of course not. I’m on top of the world. I’m higher than that, even. Hell, I’m on top of the moon.”

  “Then what is it?” I asked, leaning up on my elbow and looking into her mesmerizing blue eyes.

  “Grandma,” she mutterd, her face flinching with the word. “I just keep thinking about her there, at the nursing home, all alone. I know it’s Christmas morning, I know we only got engaged yesterday, but would you mind if…”

  “Of course I don’t mind,” I laughed, standing up and going to the closet for some clothes. “Why the hell would I?”

  “Going to see a sick old woman isn’t exactly a romantic way to spend Christmas day.”

  “But she’s family, right?” I slip into a black T-shirt and jeans, put on some socks, and then pull on my trusty boots. “If you want to see her, we’re seeing her. It’s as simple as that.”

  I thought Tess was at the other end of the room, but then she looped her hands around my waist from behind and rested her cheek on my back.

  “Hey!” I laughed, startled.

  “I’m so glad I found you,” she said.

  I turned around in her grip. She gazed up at me and smiled.

  “I’m so glad I found you.” I kissed her forehead.

  A second later, my fingers are moving around her belly, her armpits, tickling her into submission. She collapsed onto the bed and squirms in agony.

  “No, no!” she cried, twisting away from me.

  I laughed, and then stood up. “Come on, then,” I said. “Let’s go visit your grandmother.”

  The nursing home was only a fifty-mile drive from our house. We cruised through snow-tinged streets, icy windows, and cars turned white covered with snow. On the way, we stopped at a gift shop called This and That Gifts—the only few places open on Christmas day—and stocked up on gifts for Tess’ grandmother Doris. Luckily, the gift shop had a clothes sections, so we are able to buy Doris a heap of winter clothes, chocolates, brandy, Christmas DVDs, and books, plus wrapping paper and gift b
ags, all under one roof. We wrapped the gifts in the car and then drive down the deserted roads to the nursing home.

  “Oh, how sweet!” a young, beautiful Black woman cried when Tess told her why she was there. The nurse’s hair was in a tight bun, with a chopstick stuck through it, and her fingernails were painted red and green for Christmas.

  She led us to a room at the back of the nursing home, in which an old woman sat, her back to us, and gazing out of the holiday decorated window. The room was filled with photographs of Tess in various stages of her life, from a girl to an adult, all hanging from the walls.

  Doris’ hair was thin and gray and she was so fraile that her clothes seem to hang from her. It pained me to see Tess’ grandmother in this condition and I could understand now why she didn’t reach out to to grandmother when she got kidnapped months ago. But that was a distant moving and there was sense in thinking about the past especially when my future was bright with Tess.

  A moment later, Doris turned around to us and there was a light in her blue eyes. A light like home. It washes over the room and makes everything brighter, makes everything sparkle. She looked from me to Tess and held her gaze on Tess.

  “You?” she smiled. “Tess?”

  “Yes, it’s me grandma.” Tess beamed.

  “My baby? Tess!”

  Doris brought her hands to her face, but she couldn’t block her tears. As she cried, her smile grew wider and wider. Tess walked across the room and kneeled beside the wooden chair in which Doris sat. Tess wrapped her arms carefully around her and kissed her on top of her head.

  “Grandma,” she whispered. “I’m back.”

  “It’s been a while,” Doris smiled, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. “A long while. Where have you been?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Tess wiped her teary eyes.

  Doris held Tess’ gaze, and then let out a throaty laugh.

  “Oh, what does it matter?” she smiled. “You’re here now.”

  They hugged for a while longer, and then Doris held Tess’ face at arm’s length and turns it from side to side, inspecting her. Now that the tears have passed, she reverted to her normal self. Which was a no-nonsense old woman, if Tess has told me the truth.

  “Have you been getting enough food?” Doris demanded. “Have you been eating three meals a day? Skipping a meal is never a good idea, you know. When I was a girl, you were lucky is you could eat three meals a day. Don’t take it for granted. And what about him?” she croaked, pointing at me with a shaky finger. “Are those presents for me? Is he just going to stand there?”

  “Grandma!” Tess cried, like an outraged teenager, embarrassed in front of her prom date. “That’s Liam.”

  “Liam?”

  “Yes!” Tess giggled. “He’s my fiancé.”

  I carried the presents to the chair, laid them on the floor, and held out my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I’ve heard wonderful things about you,” I said.

  She shook my hand, smiling. “Pleasure to meet you, too, son.” She turned to Tess. “He has manners, doesn’t he?”

  I blushed.

  “So, what do you do, Liam?”

  “I’m a mechanic and in the process of opening up my own shop.”

  “Oh, how lovely! So, where are you too staying?”

  “We live in Somerset, grandma in a little house that’s perfect. I think we’re just missing a cat.”

  “A cat? I thought we discussed a dog, Tess.” I playfully nudged her.

  “How about both?” Doris grinned. “What are you doing these days, Tess?”

  “Well, I’ve been spending a lot of my time volunteering at shelters. I’m waiting on a call back on a position working at the central library.”

  “Shelters? Animal shelters?”

  “No, grandma. Shelters for women who have been…”

  “Um,” I interrupted. “Women who have been dealing with grief from losing their parents.”

  “Thanks,” Tess murmured. I knew she didn’t want to worry her grandmother and tell her what happened in the past.

  “Oh, that’s wonderful, Tess.” Dory smiled.

  Five minutes later, the three of us were sitting in chairs in a small circle in the center of the bedroom, sipping hot chocolates. Wrapping paper looped in heaps around Doris’ chair, and clothes and Christmas DVDs are piled high on the bed, as well as the Regency romance books Tess told me that she liked.

  “You know,” Doris said, looking at me, “seeing Tess like this hardly seems real. I remember when she was just a little girl after her mother passed, a little girl always sneaking away, always darting here and there.”

  “Do you have to?” Tess sighed. “I’m sure Liam doesn’t want to…”

  “I definitely do want to!” I laughed. I waved a playful hand at Tess. “Please, Doris, go on. Tell me more about her. I would love to hear this.”

  “Oh, call me Dory, my friends call me Dory.”

  “Okay then, Dory, please continue…”

  Tess rolled her eyes, but Dory and I—who were now allies, it seemed—ignored her.

  “I suppose you could say I was old-fashioned back then,” Dory said, blowing on her hot chocolate. “I thought that little girls should wear dresses and smile and dance. Be little girls. Let me tell you, Tess did not want to be a little girl. She wanted to be a little librarian. Once, I tried to get her to knit. I love knitting, you know. I suppose I am a cliché… an old woman who loves knitting, but I do! Anyway, she sat down with me and started knitting, not doing terribly well, but tolerable, at the least. I got up for a cup of coffee, and when I return, do you think the little miss is there?”

  I laughed, and Tess blushed.

  “I search all over for her, shouting at the top of my lungs. I’m starting to get worried when I go into the attic, and who do I see, hiding in the rafters, but Tess. She’s sitting up there like a spider, legs hooked around the beams, a book in her hand. I think it was one of your fantasy books, wasn’t it?”

  Dory turned to Tess and raised an eyebrow.

  “It was the Lord of the Rings, grandma,” Tess said.

  “I tell her to get down,” Dory went on, “and she laughs and says: ‘Why would I want to come down and knit when I can sit up here and be a wizard?’ She had a haughty look on her face, but it was cute, too, so I let it drop. I think it was then I realized that she would never be the little girl I’d tried to make her to be. She would be her own women one day.”

  There was a pause, and Tess smiled to herself, perhaps glad that the story time was over. But then Dory’s head snapped up, and a grin spreads across her face.

  “Oh!” Dory squealed. “I remember, too!”

  “Grandma!”

  “Oh, don’t be so boring,” Dory giggled. “You don’t mind, do you, Liam?”

  “Not at all, ma’am,” I said.

  Tess glared at me, but the edge of her lips twitch, and I could tell that she was glad I am getting along with her grandmother, even if we were talking about her.

  “I remember when she was around thirteen or fourteen. They had this career-type-thing in school. Oh, I can’t remember what it was called. We never had it in our day. No, you went to work, or you starved, none of this gentle nudging…. Anyway, a man came in and asked them what they wanted to do when they were older. The way Tess told me at the time, all the girls wanted to be pop stars or actresses or models and the like.”

  “Not all,” Tess muttered. “But lots, yes.”

  “Yes, yes.” Dory waved a hand. “They wanted to be famous and glamorous and all that. But Tess marched in there, proud as you like, and told the man that she wanted to be somewhere she could always be near books, where she could help get people into books, and where she could smell books. That’s the thing with Tess, Liam, she’s always loved the smell of books. Sniffs them like other girls sniff roses. The man asked if she wanted to own her own book shop, you know, start a small business. Trying to turn it into something el
se. But Tess wasn’t fooled. Tess said no, a library! And then the man asked if she really wanted to be a librarian. Wasn’t that a bit boring? Tess said no, it’s not boring, there is nothing boring about books and knowledge. And the man had no reply, did he, Tess?”

  “No,” Tess said quietly. “He looked at me like I was mad, though. I guess he thought there was something wrong with me. I was one of the last in line, too, so he’d just had a string of girls asking to be all these crazy things. And here comes a girl who wants to be a librarian.” Tess shrugged. “Apparently, to him, it was more believable that a girl would want to be a pop star.”

  “Yes, silly man,” Dory growled the words, an old lioness, still set on protecting her cub. “You see, Liam, by this point I was convinced that Tess knew best. That attic she had hidden in so many times as a girl was now full of books. And when I say full, I mean full. Boxes and boxes of them. She wouldn’t throw them out, not a single one. I asked her. And she told me it was because if she needed to remember a character’s name, a line she liked, a twist ending, something like that, she needed to be able to climb into the attic and root through the books.”

  “Alright, Grandma,” Tess’ voice was good-natured now, though, and part of me suspects that she was enjoying this. Part of me suspected that she liked being entertained with stories about herself, especially from her Grandmother. I can see the love between them as though it was a silk thread, looped around them both, joining them.

  “Oh, you do bully an old woman, don’t you?” Dory laughed and then took a long sip of her hot chocolate. “Here I am, trying to bring you to life in this nice man’s mind, and there you are, bullying me.” She pouted playfully. I can see what she was like as a girl, caustic and harsh, loving and fierce. “Oh, I’m just playing. Yes, I’m done, unless...”

  She arched her eyebrow, like a super villain in a comic book.

  “What?” Tess askd, breathless, most likely terrified of what the old woman was going to say. “What, Grandma?”

  “What about the time you snapped at the man and helped that little boy?”