Unravelling The Hitman: A BWWM Romance

by Nia Arthurs

  Not that I took her advice to heart.

  I planned on pushing the limits of nature until I couldn’t anymore.

  “Alright,” I straightened and glanced around, “which shop should I try first?”

  Before I could decide, something to the right caught my eye.

  An adorable baby stumbled to the sidewalk. He had olive-colored skin and thick, curly brown hair. His stubby, little arms pumped up and down as he giggled and charged ahead.

  My tender-hearted ‘aw’ turned to ‘no, no, no’ when I noticed the kid heading into the middle of the street.

  A golf-cart rounded the bend and plowed forward, hurtling toward him.

  Horror turned my veins to ice. My body seized and I hesitated, faltering between fear and helplessness.

  At that speed, the driver wouldn’t notice the little boy waddling around in the middle of the road and, even if he did, pumping on the brakes wouldn’t do any good.

  Panic hijacked my heart.

  Sweat beaded on my temple and dripped down my cheek.

  Are you just gonna stand there, Angel?

  Screaming like a banshee, I sprinted into the line of traffic. A cyclist rang his bell, but I ignored him, my focus on the child.

  The clatter of metal and flesh resounded behind me. A quick peek from the corner of my eye revealed a man with his legs tangled in his bicycle.

  I cringed, biting down hard on my bottom lip. Even as I inwardly flailed, my feet nimbly leaped forward. I noticed the golf cart was only a few feet away from the kid now.

  Tourists were stopping and taking notice.

  Someone shouted in alarm and pointed.

  The kid.

  They’d seen the kid.

  I gathered my strength and took one last jump forward, rolling inches away from the child. Scooping the toddler up in my arms, I used the last of my energy to throw myself out of harm’s way, landing on my back and keeping him on top of me.

  The impact knocked the wind out of my body. I kept my fingers clamped over the baby’s neck, holding him close to my chest so the windfall didn’t slam his cranium against my bones.

  Applause broke out from the crowd while the baby I’d just saved started bawling his head off. I struggled to sit up and catch my breath while soothing him.

  “Sh, sh. It’s okay.” I rubbed his back. Up close, I saw that his eyes were a startling green. Like the palms of a coconut tree leaf when it captured the sunlight. Rich, gorgeous emerald.

  Could that be real?

  Why would a baby be wearing contacts, Angel?

  Tears spilled down Green Eye’s cheeks and his little body trembled. Mouth open, he wailed at a volume that threatened to shatter both eardrums and summon lightning from the sky.

  “Reid!” a frantic voice yelled. A moment later, footsteps clattered against the sand.

  The golf cart door opened and slammed shut. An elderly Caucasian man stepped out. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

  “Does it look like I’m alright?” I snapped.

  Footsteps clattered toward me.

  The kid yelled out a word that sounded like ‘Smokey’.

  A moment later, I felt a weight disappear from my stomach and whipped my head around.

  Someone had taken the kid from me.

  He looked like a local—long, thick dreads down his back, brown eyes, thick nose and spotty beard. The red polo he wore had ‘Belizean Cigars’ on the pocket.

  My gaze flitted from the very black man to the very white kid and back. Something… didn’t add up.

  That’s narrow-minded.

  Families came in all shapes and sizes. It was clear the child knew him and, hey, who was I to judge?

  My eyes skidded past the father’s worried expression to the child’s relative calm. The self-righteous speech dangling on the tip of my tongue fizzled. I’d met my share of irresponsible parents working as a teacher. People who thought their effort began and ended when they dropped their kids off at the school gate. This guy didn’t strike me as one of them.

  “I’m so sorry,” the golf cart driver said. “Is he okay?”

  I climbed to my feet and hissed when I felt a pain in the side of my thigh.

  The driver frowned. “Are you hurt?”

  Ignoring the ache, I whirled on him. “Why were you speeding on a public beach?”

  “I had no idea he’d run into the middle of the road!”

  I glared at the driver and prepared my tongue-lashing.

  A child almost died today.

  Someone needed to make sure this never happened again.

  3

  Deacon

  I slung the worn duffel bag over my shoulder and muscled the door of my shop open. Natural sunlight hit the nutmeg-brown floors, lumber tables, and the fully stocked bar behind the counter that held impressive brands.

  No, not just impressive.

  The best.

  Because this was no ordinary bar.

  Ambergris Caye boasted more than its fair share of tourist attractions—restaurants, bars, and open clubs. Vacationers flocked the island to sample the culture, the fantastic local cuisine and, of course, the Caribbean Sea.

  When I first came to this country, I wanted to set my business apart and did my research, struggling to find an angle that had yet to be explored by local enterprises.

  The idea came to me one night. Hit me like a ton of bricks.

  Cigars.

  I spread my feet apart and stared with pride at the main wall. The black and red logo declared ‘Belizean Cigars’. Premium cigars, distinguished by brand and flavor, waited upon glass shelves.

  I sucked in a deep breath. The fragrance of tobacco greeted me like a warm embrace.

  Home.

  Nothing like it.

  With a tired smile, I stepped forward and searched the room for my sole employee. “Rasheed?”

  No response.

  Another step in.

  Dust mites danced in the fat beams of sunlight that cantered through the wide glass windows. A wooden fan whickered overhead, spreading hot air to every corner of the room.

  I spied a baby toy on the floor and swiped it up. It was a maraca. Reid’s favorite.

  “Reid?” I called.

  Still nothing.

  They must be out.

  Unperturbed, I set my duffel behind the glossy mahogany bar and sucked in another breath.

  The earthy scent reminded me of my father. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine him, crouched in his worn armchair, legs propped up and a twisted frown on his leathery face as he said his favorite line, “Nothing in life is free, boy.”

  A woman’s hissing shattered the vision. “Are you telling me this little boy has been cooped up in a cigar shop for the past three days? Do you know what all that second-hand smoke would do to him? Are you even human?”

  I stiffened.

  Was someone here?

  I followed the commotion down the hall, heading to the backroom where I kept my office. Two figures stood just outside the door. I recognized Rasheed’s muscled arms and long dreads immediately.

  The alarm in his eyes made me smile.

  Not many people could rattle him like that.

  I saw a lot of myself in the twenty-five-year-old. We’d met a few weeks after my arrival in Belize. From the moment he walked into the shop, Rasheed had struck me as someone solid.

  After getting to know him, I’d grown even more certain of his character. Convinced by his loyalty, I’d extended my hand in trust.

  He had yet to let me regret it.

  The man would die for us. It was the reason I’d left Reid with him instead of the several, unsatisfactory candidates I’d interviewed for the nanny position before I’d left for my business trip.

  Curious to know what had him so stricken, my gaze moved to the tiny woman.

  And stayed there.

  More than the beautiful body squeezing out of a black, one-piece suit caught my eye. She stood with her shoulders square and her chin tipped high.
>
  A queen holding court.

  She gestured wildly with her hands. Straight black hair danced with every dip and sway of her cocoa-brown fingers.

  Beautiful was too tame a word.

  I almost forgot my own name looking at her.

  The woman rose a little on her tiptoes and I noticed sand falling off the side of her dark leg. My gaze would have lingered there if not for what she said next.

  “That little boy could have DIED today. I need a better explanation than…”

  Little boy?

  Was she talking about Reid?

  “Who?” I stepped forward and made my presence known.

  Rasheed glanced up when he heard my voice. “Boss?”

  The strange woman looked at me as well. I saw that her eyes were a rich, brown shade, like chocolate in the sunlight. Sparkling. Bright. Full of fire.

  Aimed at me.

  My body coiled.

  I pushed the attraction I felt deep down and strode forward. “What happened to Reid?”

  “Boss, I can explain.” Rasheed held out his hand. “It’s a long story.”

  “Boss?” The woman lifted her head to stare me straight on. Almond-shaped eyes narrowed and then widened. For the first time since I’d approached, she seemed unsure of herself.

  Fingers threading together, she muttered, “Wait, who are you?”

  I ignored her question and slammed Rasheed aside. Moving almost frantically, I sprinted into the office.

  What the hell happened to my son?

  Almost died?

  No, it couldn’t be.

  Nightmarish thoughts paraded through my head.

  If I lost Reid…

  If anything happened to him…

  My head whipped around until I saw Reid bouncing happily in his playpen, looking fresh-faced and happy.

  Green eyes lit up when he saw me. “Dada!”

  A wave of relief and love slammed into my soul. I bounded forward and, in three steps, I had him in my arms. Close to my chest. Mouth to his temple, his cheek.

  “Son.”

  He squealed happily and wrapped his little hands around my neck. Immediately, the darkness in my soul was banished. The blood on my hands was purified by the innocence of his touch.

  I buried my nose in his stomach and blew my lips, smiling widely when he laughed as he usually did.

  “Boss.” Clothing rustled against nervous hands. I spun and found Rasheed moving hesitantly into the room, his eyes darting all over the place.

  The woman was right behind him, her head poking unceremoniously out to the side as if she was using Rasheed’s body to protect her. They both shuffled forward like two children who’d smashed their mother’s favorite vase.

  I understood Rasheed’s reaction, but what was she so afraid of?

  Me?

  I pressed a palm against Reid’s back and nodded at Rasheed. “What happened?”

  “I left him in the room for five minutes. I swear, I thought he was sleeping soundly. I came back in and his crib was empty.”

  “He must have crawled outside,” I murmured. Reid was an active child but, so far, his playpen and crib had been able to contain him. I needed to put in extra measures to prevent him from escaping again.

  But… how had he managed to open the front door?

  “It was open,” Rasheed said, as if reading my thoughts. “We were receiving inventory and the delivery guys wanted access so they could move freely.” Rasheed bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Boss.”

  I strode forward and squeezed his shoulder. “It wasn’t intentional.”

  My jaw hardened.

  But it could never happen again.

  I needed a proper caretaker. Rasheed couldn’t handle watching an energetic toddler on top of his responsibilities at the shop. It had been a risk to shoulder him with Reid’s care.

  “Ehem,” the woman cleared her throat, bringing our attention back to her. “Well, I’m glad this was settled. I’ll just be heading out then.”

  “Stop.” The word escaped with more vehemence than I’d planned.

  The woman froze, a shocked look on her face as if she, too, had had no plans to listen to me and was stunned that her body had done so on its own.

  My eyes took in the little details of her expression, careening against the bee-stung lips that were slightly parted as shaky breaths hit the air. She stared at me, nostrils flaring, eyebrows arched.

  Beyond her irritation, I sensed… curiosity.

  She was scared of me, yet she was curious?

  We stood, each taking in the other. Flashes of tension flared to life between us. It was potent, stronger than anything I’d felt before.

  Rasheed’s voice intruded. “By the time I realized Reid was gone, he was already out in traffic.”

  I gritted my teeth, unable to bear the image of my son in such danger.

  “But she,” Rasheed tipped his chin at the woman, “threw herself right in front of the golf cart and protected him.”

  My heart thudded and I regarded her with new eyes. “Is this true?”

  “I did what anyone else would have. I’m just glad little Reid is okay.” Brown eyes flitted to my son and the hardness of her expression melted away like the sun dissipating dew.

  She was all soft smiles, gentleness and pure delight.

  My breath hitched.

  Something inside my chest shifted.

  Then her gaze returned to me. I felt it. A wall shuttling between us, her guard rushing up. The light drained from her eyes, replaced with distrust. Any affection she felt for the son did not transfer to the father.

  Her rejection stumped me.

  On my own, I could charm a woman, pluck her heart right out of her chest and use it on a whim. When I was out with Reid, ladies found me irresistible and offered their hearts on a platter without any effort on my part.

  But not her.

  That didn’t sit well with me.

  A sudden, frightening realization clamored for notice.

  Whoever she was, I wanted this woman.

  I wanted her now.

  4

  Angel

  You know those moments in the movies? The one where the girl and the boy meet by accident, wide-eyes locked and hearts thumping?

  Time would slow as the camera panned from one face to the other. More than likely, something would fall from the sky—snow, petals, or rain—signaling that this was a romantic moment.

  As if the audience couldn’t tell already.

  I never thought something like that could happen to me, but the moment Boss walked into the room, something in my brain jerked out of place. My heart smacked against my ribcage like a possessed doll, aching to get out. Aching to be near him.

  Yearning.

  What I felt made little sense and yet was too strong to ignore.

  He’d looked me up and down with eyes that were hard as granite set in a face that was built for billboards and close-ups in magazines. Square jaw. Pointed cheekbones. Short haircut.

  He carried himself with a ruthless bearing, turning his simple grey Henley, jeans, and sneakers into army fatigues.

  Boss.

  It was what Rasheed called him.

  I didn’t know his name, but then… I didn’t need to.

  Boss.

  It suited him.

  Leader. Big Gun. Head Honcho. He could command a thousand armies with just a flash of those dark green eyes.

  Boss was… intense. Unlike any man I’d come across. Which was why, when he gave me a command, I listened before any thought or reason could rush through my fuddled brain.

  ‘Stop’. It was all he’d said and yet every blood vessel, every pump of my lungs, wanted to obey.

  For a second, I couldn’t breathe.

  I was scared. Angry. Affronted.

  And also… confused.

  Who was this man? Why did my body obey him?

  As Rasheed explained Reid’s rescue, Boss’s eyes flicked to me. They turned stormy. Thin, pink lips tightened
, disappearing. Then they returned, arching into a curve of a smile when his anger gave way to admiration.

  My stomach tightened. I had to save myself, had to turn away.

  So I looked at Reid. Adorable, safe Baby Reid.

  The kid clung to his father. Tiny arms wrapped around his neck. He seemed content, clueless even. Nothing that had happened or would happen bothered him. How could it? When he had a father like Boss?

  What is wrong with you, Angel?

  Maybe I was suffering from heat stroke.

  Maybe I’d smashed my head a little too hard against the sand earlier.

  I glanced down, searching for injuries. A hiss flew past my lips when I actually found one.

  A long scrape.

  It charged up my inner thigh like a twisted arrow. Blood oozed from the deeper imprints.

  The sound of my surprise and pain rattled against the walls and brought Boss’s attention to my cut. His thick eyebrows crashed down. A slow, tantalizing appraisal of my body ensued.

  I became distinctly aware of the cleavage exposed in the black, one-piece suit. My injured leg slipped behind the other.

  He noted the movement and handed Reid over to his employee. “Hold him.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I stumbled back when Boss advanced. Biting down on my bottom lip, I held out a hand. “I’m fine. Really.”

  “Are you,” he tilted his head, “afraid of me?”

  My mouth fell. I tried to speak but no words came out.

  How could he just… say it like that? No warnings. No games.

  I noticed Rasheed’s eyes moving between the two of us.

  My shoulders straightened. “That’s an impolite question.”

  “Is it?” Another step.

  “I’m guessing you don’t care about the rules of conversation.”

  “You saved my son.” He tilted his head as if he hadn’t heard a word I’d said. “I owe everything to you. And you’re afraid of me?”

  My voice trembled. “No.”

  “No?” An eyebrow arched.

  A smirk flirted with his lips.

  He thought I was funny?

  I glanced at Rasheed as I answered, “I’m not afraid of you.” Summoning my courage, I jerked my gaze back to Boss. “Should I be?”