Hitman - the Series: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Collection (Alexis Abbott's Hitmen #0)

by Alexis Abbott

  Suddenly, the door behind me creaks open and I don’t immediately turn around, expecting that it’s probably just my mom or Maggie coming back to fawn over my dress or give me an update on how the pre-ceremony is progressing. Maggie, for one, has been sneaking whispered tidbits back to me about how handsome and proud Max looks, how swimmingly he’s getting along with my father. I had been a little concerned about that at first, seeing as my dad is a little bit protective over me, and Max was originally in my life to be an authority figure and therefore, off-limits romantically speaking. And while Max is calm and hard to read, my dad is effervescent, wearing his emotions on his sleeve. But to my relief, they seem to click. Like opposite magnets. I’m elated.

  Just as I’m turning around to ask Maggie if it’s almost time to get everybody into the pews for the ceremony, a hand clasps over my mouth, the words dying in my throat.

  My eyes go wide as I glance around in horror, trying to figure out who is holding me. I know it can’t be my mother or Maggie, as the person behind me is much taller and broader than either of them, nearly dwarfing me by comparison. I glance up to the mirror and let out a strangled scream of realization.

  It’s Will.

  His lips are grinning, but there’s a cold, cruel glint in his eyes. He is just as handsome as before, but now I know to associate his attractive features with undeniable evil. He is a wolf in a Prince Charming costume. A villain with a hero’s face.

  How the hell did he manage to slip in unnoticed? With so many people milling around, how in the world did he get to me? Especially with Max out there somewhere. But then I realize that apart from Maggie and Max, nobody here knows what he looks like. He’s wearing a black designer suit with a pale pink tie, perfectly matching my wedding color scheme.

  As though he’s been watching me, planning this for months.

  And I never even saw him coming.

  Will leans down close to my ear, his breath tickling my neck and giving me goosebumps as I start to tremble, realizing just how dire this situation is. At any moment, Maggie or someone else could come in, putting them in danger along with me. And Maggie… if she sees him, there’s no telling how she will react. Sure, she’s stronger now than before, but I worry that even just seeing Will’s face might make her relapse into her former near-catatonic state. And if he hurts my mother…

  “Don’t worry, mon chou, I don’t have eyes for anyone but you today,” he growls in my ear, sickly-sweet evil dripping with every cruel word, as if he can read my mind. “Now, I have arranged a getaway car for us. Consider it a chariot to take us away on a honeymoon, if you like.”

  He roves one hand down over my breasts, groping its way back around to my ass. Will sucks in a deep, lewd inhale, closing his eyes as though he’s truly savoring the moment.

  “I wonder… have you missed me as much as I have missed you?” he muses aloud, his raspy whisper sending shivers down my spine. “It’s true what they say, you know, about the one who got away. Once you get a little taste, you really never can let it go. And you, mon amour? You are the one who got away. But we are reunited again, aren’t we? Isn’t it poetic? Romantic, even?”

  Will presses himself into me, his cock hard against my ass. I want to scream, but his hand is completely blocking my airway. And besides, I don’t doubt for one second that he has a gun on his person. If I scream, someone will come running. And finding us like this would surely end in that person’s demise. I can’t be responsible for anyone else being hurt on my account. No… the only thing I can do is obey. There’s too much at stake.

  I should have known that trouble would follow me… even to the altar.

  “Here’s how this is going to work,” Will says slowly, grinding against me. “You and I are going to leave through that window over there, walk up the hill, and get into my car. You are not going to scream or make a single sound, or my men will rain bullets into that crowd of your most beloved friends and family, okay? And when we get back to headquarters, you and I will finally get the alone time we both so dearly deserve. You are precious merchandise, Olivia, but you’ve also been a very, very bad girl. I don’t think our buyers will want you unless I get you properly broken in. Besides, I need to rid you of the stench that filthy Ruskie left on your skin.”

  He spits on the floor, and I feel tears prickling in my eyes. There is no way out. I have to do as I am told, even if it means losing everything that lies just beyond the door — the happy life, the beautiful future, the man of my dreams.

  My past has caught up to me.

  “Let’s go. Move,” he commands, dragging me away and pushing me out through the open window. He starts pulling me up the grassy hill overlooking the whole wedding party. I glance back in desperation, half-hoping and half-terrified that someone will see us. I want someone to save me, but I also know that there’s little chance anyone could save me at this point. I don’t think Max has his gun today, and I don’t want to risk anyone getting hurt.

  But still, despite my obedience and silence, I hear a deep voice ring out across the pastoral scene. It’s Max.

  “No!” he bellows, and I look back instinctively to see him at the window of the chapel, looking out. A split second later he disappears from view, obviously barreling through the crowded little church to get out and follow us.

  People are starting to point and take notice of what’s going on, but by now we are already getting into the car, Will shoving me into the backseat, almost exactly the same way he did months ago when he captured me the first time.

  25

  Max

  The bullet wound to my chest might have slowed me down, but I’ll be damned if it lets the bastards steal my Olivia from me again. Pain ripples through my torso and down my limbs, but I ignore it as adrenaline kicks in, and I push past the few guests who haven’t already started to panic.

  Rain patters on my face as I tear out the old wooden doors of the chapel and down the wet stone steps. It’s said that rain is a sign of good luck on a wedding day. I say a quick prayer as I pass out the doors of the church that my fortunes save themselves for our married life. Today, all I will need is my skill.

  I catch a glimpse of Will as he enters his car, another mobster shoving Liv into the back with him, and the car peels out into the road with two others following after. There’s a black sports car I arranged to be waiting for us at the bottom of the steps — it was going to be the chariot I whisked Liv away in after the ceremony, onto a better life. It still will be. The reception will just be a little more exciting, it seems.

  Pushing more of the confused guests out of the way, I bound down the steps and vault into the vehicle, and a moment later, my car roars, smoke flaring up behind me to the sounds of gasps from the guests as I leave them in the dust on the trail of my bride.

  Slavers never know when to stop. They never can. They cater to a beastly lust that seems bottomless in men, and putting this ring down for good will bring me nothing but the utmost satisfaction — not only because of what they are, but because of what they dare try to take from me.

  The three cars are fast, and they’re past the point of regarding caution in any capacity. I wonder how long it will be before the police are on our tail, but I suspect we’ll be long gone before that’s a concern. I see the last car taking a sharp turn down the lane, and mere seconds later, I’m right behind it.

  “Mudak,” I mutter under my breath as I realize the rear vehicle is putting on the brakes as we careen down a narrow road, pedestrians crying out in terror and a man on a bicycle leaping off and onto the sidewalk. The rear of the car swerves in my path as I try to get around, the small vehicles lining the road blocking our path as bumpers. I realize that there’s no way around him, and the two cars in the lead are quickly getting away.

  I reach under my seat and pull out the gun I’d stowed there. There’s an alley coming up on my right — narrow, but it will have to do. Even at my own wedding day, I can’t seem to shake the old habits. I roll down the window, and the moment I
reach the alley, I use the handbrake to screech to the side, aiming my gun and firing off two shots at the car in front of me before I blaze down the narrow alley. The pops I hear from the rear car’s tires tell me my shots landed true, and I smile as I smash through a trashcan in the alleyway, a terrified cat leaping up into a window to watch me fly by.

  My car exits the alley into oncoming traffic. All around me, petrified motorists honk and jerk their wheels away as I surge upstream, gathering speed rapidly, and to my left, I soon start to catch flashes of the other two cars the next street over. But I won’t be trapped in the back again.

  In a matter of seconds, the road curves into where the other two are heading, and my tires screech as I turn into traffic after them, driving parallel with the rear car. I have a clear shot at Will’s car, but I can’t risk hurting Liv. And damn it all, Will knows that.

  But the next moment, I look over to my left as I realize the rear car is turning into me, and the side of the car collides with mine, sparks flying, and I lower my head as gunshots ring out a moment later from their passenger’s side. I pop up and fire back, and I hear one of them curse as the gunman’s blood gets on the driver, his face falling forward onto the dashboard. Both cars take a sharp turn, and my car zips by, just missing it. Once again, I tear around the block to see them heading for a road that leads out of the city, back into the country, towards the Domaniale d’Armainvilliers in the southeast.

  Once we’re out of the sea of buildings, the damage to the rear car is more obvious, and I make a mental note to see about getting a new car to replace this one. It’s a shame. I’d looked forward to giving Liv this car, but scratch marks and bullet holes just won’t do.

  But the open road affords too much exposure for their comfort, and before I can get a shot in on the rear car’s tires, they take a turn into a sleepy suburb between the city and the forest, and we find ourselves racing through a sea of upscale houses with ample fencing.

  Dogs bark at our passing, and a few of the joggers start getting on cell phones and climbing house fences for safety as we approach. I see the two cars heading for a narrower road up ahead, but I’m not about to let that happen. Accelerating, I get up beside the rear car and waste no time in ramming into the side of it, feeling glass shards from their window pierce my arm.

  “Ruskie svin’ya!” I hear the growl from the other car, and I steer the car sharply to the left, silencing the man as the car collides with a telephone pole, leaving it behind as I blaze past after the car driven by Will: the car bearing my bride.

  In the rear-view mirror, I see the car in the back looking half-melted around the telephone pole, smoke rising from it, and I turn my attention back to the front, where I realize Will is taking the nearest road off into the forest, onto a dirt path leading through thick foliage.

  My face sours into a grimace. This isn’t an accident — I’m driving right into whatever they have planned, and I know it. But I’m going to press on.

  I’ve taken a bullet for a student I hardly know. For Liv, I’d give my life.

  For a moment, I see her in the back of the car, and my heart leaps into my throat. I want to blow out the brains of every man in that car with her, and I will. But one wrong shot, one slight movement at the wrong time could make the unthinkable happen, so I have to stay my weapon. My blood boils as I see the man holding her down bring his hand across her face, though, and I raise my weapon and let out a shot that takes off the left side-mirror. I can almost feel Will flinch, and it gives me a special pleasure.

  Then the man in the back leans out the side window with an Uzi in hand, and I nearly have to drive off the road to avoid the spray of bullets that flies out. We drive towards a pair of thick trees, and I brace myself to go off-road when the man is suddenly jerked back into the car, and I realize Liv has got a hold of them, and they’re grappling in the backseat.

  My whole body tenses at the sight, fraught with concern for her. I’ve started to train her well, but if she angers the men too much, I wouldn’t put it past them to do something drastic before reaching their destination. I’m so concerned with the sight that I don’t fully notice his sudden acceleration, and it’s too late when I notice the man by the side of the road rolling a small, round, metal object into the road in front of me.

  I feel fire under me as the grenade goes off below the car, glass shattering all around and smoke and dirt billowing up in every direction as my ears are deafened to a harsh ringing. Bits and pieces of the car go flying, and the driver’s side door is lost, leaving the smoke-filled air to fan the flames within the vehicle as I charge forward.

  In truth, the pain hardly registers with me. I feel it like a thought in the back of my mind, but I’m so driven by adrenaline towards my goal. Up ahead, I have just enough time to see Will’s car coming to a halt before another grenade goes off in front of me, sending up another wave of smoke and dirt, and the sound of metal clinking tells me bullets are peppering the vehicle like a thousand angry wasps, and there’s a burning sensation under my feet.

  26

  Liv

  I hear the second explosion go off, but the brute on top of me has his knee on the back of mine, and he’s pinning my arms behind my back, pressing my face into the seat, and I all I can do is feel my heart leap into my throat again.

  “Much better,” I hear Will’s insufferably cruel voice say, and that pushes me over the edge. Feeling the slightest slack in the henchman’s grip, I wrench my arms free the way Max taught me how, and in a flash, I push myself up, and an elbow shoots back to smack the man in the mouth, and I feel teeth crack under the blow as he howls and I turn my eyes to the rear window.

  I wish I hadn’t.

  Out of the smoke, I watch Max’s car roll forward, the once-splendid vehicle we’d planned to drive away to a new life inside, coasting across the French countryside away from all this terror. Instead, I watch it sputter forward, smoke billowing from every opening, and as we come to a stop, the men who’d been hiding in the forest on the sides of the road step out, guns blazing as they riddle the sides, the back, and the front with bullets.

  I let out a scream, tears streaming down my eyes as I slam my fist into the rear window, not even caring that the ogre-like man beside me is pinning my arms again. I can’t even feel the pain compared to the sight of Max’s car, and visions of what he must look like inside flash in front of my mind’s eye unbidden. I clench my eyes and look away, tears stinging terribly.

  It isn’t fair. This can’t be real. This isn’t real. Absurdly, I become vaguely aware that I’m still in my wedding dress, half-torn and filthy by now. This was supposed to be the best day of my life, a day I’d dreamed about since I was a little girl, even if I’d never imagined it taking place in such a place as this.

  This whole time has been a kind of dream turned nightmare. And just when I think Max had woken me from the nightmare and brought me back into the real world, into my real life, I just slipped back into the depths, getting dragged down as I watch my last glimmer of hope get gunned to pieces on a dirt road in the woods.

  My mind flits to everyone back at the wedding. Did the bastards take anyone else? Oh god, what about Maggie? She saw them all again, she saw Will, she relived the trauma. Was she okay? What if they took her? Could she stand the pain of being plunged into darkness all over again?

  Then there’s a third explosion, and as Will laughs, I realize one of the shots must have hit the car’s gas tank, as I open my eyes and see the car hitting the ground with a metallic thud a moment later, upside-down.

  There’s a tug at my hair, then a sudden jerk as Will pulls me close to him, his hands forcing me to look at the burning remains of the car.

  “Take a good look, ma chérie,” he taunts me, “I don’t want you getting the wrong impression. Maksim Pavlenko is somewhere in there — or at least, bits and pieces of him are.”

  I hate myself so much for having ever trusted Will, for having ever come close to letting myself feel attracted to this devil wea
ring human skin.

  “What are you?” I say through choked sobs as Will strokes my hair. I want to kill him. I want so dearly to break that snide nose of his and toss him into the inferno along with the love of my life. I want so much, but I can do so little.

  “Merely a man,” says Will, purring the words into my ear as I try to pull away. He glances to the man with me in the back, and he nods to him out the door. “Take a hold of her and get out. Confirm the bastard’s death.”

  I’m pulled out into the smoky air, the smell of the burning car and gunshots mingling toxically with the otherwise pleasant scents of the French countryside in autumn. This is the kind of place bikers come careening through, or lovers come walking. I might have come here with Max one day, walking hand in hand with him without the faintest care in the world. Never in my darkest nightmares would I have imagined knowing such a forest as a place of death.

  I try to pull part of my dress back up over my shoulder to cover myself. My shoes are long gone, and my captor’s sweaty hands have stained my ensemble. He yanks me with him as Will gets out and spreads his arms out wide, beaming. Men are stepping out of the woods now, guns pointed at the burning remains of the car as the shooting finally stops.

  “I should say, Olivia,” Will says as the men approach the car and he turns to face me, stepping forward with a smile, “I’m genuinely sorry you became so personally involved in this business.” He reaches out and takes my chin in his hand the way Max used to, and I want to bite his fucking fingers off, but my face is swollen from crying and I can only stare into those heartless eyes.

  “You know nothing about human caring,” I spit at him.