Hitman's Secret Baby: A Bad Boy Romance

by McKenzie Lewis

  Justin’s warnings hit me again.

  Driving under the moonlight, Mason’s silvery profile relaxed and sated, I knew I was being foolish. I knew I shouldn’t be letting myself fall into these kinds of feelings.

  There was so much at stake, so much danger. I was walking down a bad road.

  The scary thing was that I just couldn’t find it in me to care.

  Chapter Eight

  Mason

  I waited, slumped on Taryn’s sofa with my elbows against my knees.

  Not much scared me anymore, but sitting here, waiting for my sister to arrive, was enough to make my stomach twist. It’d been an oddly surreal week, the way me and Taryn had spent so much time together, living in some kind of reckless daze like it was just the two of us in all the world again, but today was set to bring me crashing back down to Earth.

  “It’ll be fine,” Taryn told me, not for the first time. She began to pace the room, showing her own nerves.

  “You’re not helping,” I snapped.

  She raised an eyebrow at me. “Oh, really? My apologies. Next time you let your sister believe you’re dead for ten years, I’ll make tea instead.”

  She had this incredible way of taking the wind from my sails. The more time I spent with her, the more I realized how angry my days without her were, how easy it was to lose myself in darkness when there was nobody to pull me out of it.

  “I’m sorry,” I said stiffly. “I can’t stand this waiting.”

  “You never were a patient guy.”

  “You didn’t see me laid on a sniper outpost for eight hours waiting for a mark to leave a casino in Atlanta.”

  Taryn pulled a face, half exasperated and half uncomfortable. “No. I didn’t. Thank God.”

  I didn’t know why I kept bringing these things up. Part of me wondered if I was trying to push her away, some subconscious fear of getting too close again. Just a week ago she’d admitted that one day she might be able to truly forgive me. I’d wanted it so much before, in that reckless and selfish way I’d wanted a lot of things, but reality of it was… terrifying.

  The implications were huge. Could I really stay here and be a father? Could I live like a normal man after so long living as a ghost? The possibility had never genuinely occurred to me, even as I showed Taryn my regrets.

  But now, with our growing closeness and the warmth in Taryn’s eyes, I couldn’t escape the future on the table.

  It made my skin itch. Fear and doubt were my biggest enemies and they came in abundance here.

  “Heads up,” Taryn suddenly said, looking out of the window. “They’re here.”

  I stood, bracing myself. I slouched my shoulders a little, leaning my weight on one foot—anything to look less threatening.

  I heard the front door open, Taryn greeting a tense-sounding Anna and a nervous-sounding Ethan. They exchanged a few brief pleasantries, with Taryn asking, “How was the honeymoon?” and Ethan starting to ramble.

  Anna’s voice rang clearly from the hall above it all, though. “Where is he?”

  “Lounge,” Taryn said softly.

  My sister’s footsteps came sharp and intent and she rounded the doorframe with a look on her face that almost cut me. She stood in the center of the living room, her hands balled into fists by her side, her breath coming hard, and I waited, allowing her the courtesy of speaking first.

  It was the least I owed her. As I looked at her now, face to face for the first time in years, the weight of my debt almost crushed me.

  I was too enamored to speak anyway. She was still my beautiful baby sister, same passionate expressions, same tall and slender frame like mine, same green eyes that ran in our family.

  Our mother’s eyes.

  “You fucking asshole.” Same filthy mouth, too. She came at me like a charging bull, slapping me clean around the face. “You—how could you? Not only do you leave us, but you ruin my wedding day, my honeymoon!”

  I held up both hands, trying to ward off another slap. “Goddammit, Anna! Let me explain!”

  Ethan stood to one side, eyeing me warily. He didn’t intervene over Anna’s anger and, in a distant way, I respected that. Taryn stayed close by him, her arms folded and her features troubled.

  “I’ve mourned you for ten years,” Anna yelled, her voice shaky with emotion. “I lost my big brother, my whole world. Do you know what that felt like?”

  “I do,” I said honestly. “I lost everything too.”

  “Why?” she breathed, the word drawn out with desperation.

  I glanced at Taryn and she nodded, gesturing for everyone to sit down. Dread pervaded the entire lounge, the on-edge feeling of a held breath. It felt like my only chance; if I screwed this up, there might not be another. I was lucky to even have one.

  And so I explained the whole sordid story from start to finish. We’d always thought our mother’s murder was a robbery gone wrong while she worked late one night at Taryn’s family’s diner, and Anna’s eyes widened in horror as I explained that wasn’t what happened.

  “I found out who killed her. I came across Mom’s locket in the man’s house by accident, a trophy he’d kept,” I told her, falling into that cloudy place where the memories were just as alive as they’d ever been. Back in the diner the other day, I’d smelled the iron tang of blood, and now I could see my mom’s eyes, open and glassy as she lay dead over the table. “I got him drunk and he admitted it, all of it, from how he pursued her to how she rejected him. He called her names, a whore, a tease, and said she deserved everything she got.”

  “Wait,” Anna said, blinking rapidly, her hand clutched in her husband’s. “You found the locket in this guy’s house?”

  I tensed. “Yeah.”

  “Who—who was it?” she asked, but I could see the gears turning. Her hand broke free of Ethan’s to cover her mouth and Ethan twisted both of his together, obviously figuring it out too.

  I looked him square in the eye. “It was your father.”

  An eruption happened around the coffee table. Anna stood, staggering away, and Ethan sank his head into his hands, distraught. Taryn was my anchor here, her steady gaze drawing me in, giving me strength.

  “Your father?” Anna cried at Ethan, tears streaking her face.

  “I didn’t know,” Ethan muttered. “I swear I didn’t.”

  “You said he was a bad man, you always said…”

  “Anna, please.” Taryn stood, stepping close to her and putting both hands on her shoulders. “None of us knew, how could we?”

  My sister looked up at her, eyes red-rimmed. “Mason knew.”

  “And look what he lost for that.”

  I fucking loved Taryn. It hit me like a wall falling down, a surge of affection and gratitude and adoration like quickly tumbling bricks. I couldn’t believe her, standing there defending me, supporting me, after everything I’d done to this family.

  All I could think was how I didn’t deserve it.

  I couldn’t let her be my shield anymore.

  “Anna.” I stood, too, and held a hand out towards my sister. “Could you please look at me?”

  She turned, trembling from head to toe. I didn’t expect her to take my hand and she didn’t, but she looked at me, seeming ready to listen.

  “I killed him,” I told her gravely. “I killed Mr. Foster for what he did to our mother. That’s why I had to fake my own death, why I had to leave.”

  Anna simply stared.

  Ethan got to his feet, all of us standing now. “You killed my dad?”

  “I’m not sorry,” I said roughly.

  And, very intently, he told me, “I don’t expect you to be.” All three of us looked at him, shocked. “He deserved it. If you hadn’t done it, I can’t say that I wouldn’t have one day.”

  “What?” Anna asked, touching Ethan’s shoulder.

  “I told you he was a bad man but that was an understatement.” He took her hand again, his head tipped towards her. “I know he killed people, bullied and extorted and bla
ckmailed his business partners. I walked into the ranch one day while he was… hurting one of the ranch girls, and he got me by the throat and said if I ever blabbed, he’d kill my mother.” Ethan shuddered and I was again struck dumb by what I was hearing. “Every time my mom tried to leave him, he’d just find her and drag her right back. She turned to drink and died because it was the only way she could get away from him.”

  “Ethan,” Anna said softly, putting her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  “I wanted to tell you but I just hated him so much, I didn’t want to dwell another day on that man.” Ethan turned his attention to me. “So, thank you. You did me and this town a service.”

  I shrugged, more than a little baffled at the turn this conversation had taken. “Well, don’t thank me yet.”

  Taryn stepped in. “There’s more, Ethan. We should sit back down.”

  I could tell by the look on Anna’s face that she wasn’t nearly ready for the next bombshell I was about to drop. And who could blame her? A brother coming back from the dead was enough for one awkward family reunion.

  “Lay it on me,” Ethan said, taking a deep breath.

  It was Anna I looked to, though. “Sis?”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  I didn’t recoil but it was a near thing. I perched on the coffee table instead—easier to look at everyone this way, better gauge the situation.

  “I had these friends,” I started. “Guys from town that were into some bad shit. They helped me with Mr. Foster. They hid me when I died.” Anna laughed humorlessly, making me wince. “They helped me set myself up outside of town, introduced me to some… people. Hired killers. It’s what I started doing, killing for money.”

  A silence swallowed up the room, Anna staring with wide eyes, Ethan leaning away from me, Taryn cringing. It would’ve been comical if it weren’t so sad.

  “Get out,” Anna said, so suddenly I felt like she’d slapped me again. “Oh my God, just get out, Mason! I can’t—you can’t just come back here and lay something like this on us!”

  “Ethan is on a list! A hit list!” I yelled over Anna’s rising voice. So much for carefully navigating my one chance. “He’s going to die if we don’t—”

  “Holy shit,” Ethan muttered, but I barely heard it above my sister shoving me back with all her strength, like she wanted nothing more than my ass out the door.

  Taryn touched her back, attempting to calm her down, but I knew my sister too well, even now. This could very easily become an all-out fight if I didn’t leave, and I’d never raise a hand to my sister so it’d be me getting the beat-down.

  “I’ll go,” I said loudly, stepping away from Anna with my hands raised in defense. “But you have to listen to Taryn, okay?” I looked at Taryn. “Make her listen!”

  Taryn nodded quickly, dragging Anna into an embrace. I stood, feeling utterly helpless, uneasy with mounting frustration, until I couldn’t look at the destruction anymore.

  I turned on my heel and left, slamming Taryn’s front door behind me.

  I broke into a quick walk away from the house, hunching inside my jacket against the brightness of the day. It didn’t seem right, somehow, that all of this was happening against the backdrop of such a perfect summer.

  It fucking irritated me, and I kicked one of the neighbor’s tall flower beds, feeling petty but just a little satisfied.

  What did you expect? A welcome-back hug and some tears? In my wildest dreams, maybe. I was relying, once again, on Taryn’s understanding to get me through this mess. She was so deep in this, I wasn’t sure how I could do it without her anymore. I couldn’t believe how quickly she’d become so necessary to me.

  I needed to see a new face, someone whose morality wasn’t an issue. I pulled out my phone, scrolling through my address book and tapping a name.

  “Mason?”

  “Jay, where you at?”

  “Where d’you think?”

  I could hear the clatter of a glass in the background and scoffed. “Stay put, I could use a drink.”

  “Trouble in paradise?” Jay mocked; I’d get him for that later.

  “Fuck you. Just get me a whisky.”

  I tucked the phone back in my pocket, walking the dozen or so blocks into town, meeting the curious gaze of passers-by with a threatening glare.

  Everyone knew everyone here, and I was a dark-clad stranger to them.

  Good, I thought. Let’s keep it that way.

  “Yo,” Jay greeted me as my eyes adjusted to the dingy bar. “Buddy.”

  Unexpectedly, the cheap bastard had gotten me that whiskey. I knocked it back quickly, flagging the barman for another. He gave me an irritated glance, like he was no waiter, and I scowled.

  He sure got moving after that.

  “What’s crawled up your ass?” Jay asked, eyeing me curiously.

  “Work.”

  “Ethan Foster.”

  “I’ll take the job.”

  “Ah.” Jay grinned. “I knew you would. If that asshole was boning my sister—”

  “Don’t fucking talk about my sister like that.”

  Jay held up his hands. “Whoa, sorry, man. I’m just sayin’, I’d wanna pop him, too.”

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion,” I said flatly. “Just tell the boss he’s mine.”

  It would buy us time, at any rate. Time for Taryn to explain things to Anna—clean up my mess, more like—and for me to figure out how to hold what was left of my family together.

  I had to do this, for Anna. Even if she never spoke to me again, even if she hated me for the rest of our lives, I had to find a way to protect Ethan.

  At any cost.

  “Got it, bro,” Jay quipped. “And what about your pretty baby mama?”

  “What about her?”

  “I mean, you got a kid, man. What are you gonna do? The Foster job’s a good payout. You thinking about shutting shop and playing house?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Do you care?”

  “It’d be a shame to lose you, but this job ain’t forever. We’re a flash in the pan, brother. Burning quick and bright.”

  I scoffed. “Little poetic for you, isn’t it?” Jay shrugged, uncharacteristically solemn all of a sudden. It made me uneasy. “That kid doesn’t need all my shit in her life.”

  “Dead dad or fucked-up dad,” Jay huffed. “What a choice.”

  “Yeah.” I tipped back my third whiskey, two more lined up on the table. “Taryn doesn’t deserve all that.”

  I didn’t know why I was opening up to him. This certainly wasn’t why I called him, that’s for sure. It might’ve had something to do with that third whiskey. Might’ve been the ache under my ribs, the gnawing feeling in my bones. I didn’t have friends, per se. Acquaintances, colleagues, dudes I drank with, people I ran recon with.

  I guessed I just felt like talking to someone who had no stake in any of this and didn’t really give a shit. In some way, it reminded me of how I would normally deal with a situation—detached, cool, composed. It helped to get Jay’s perspective.

  “She’s a good woman,” I went on, gripping my glass hard. “She’s done fine without me and she’ll keep on doing fine.”

  It didn’t even scratch the surface. I was sore with wanting her, my mind saturated with every naked image, every breath and moan. I couldn’t get her voice out of my head, the sounds of pleasure or the sighs of comfort. I couldn’t stop thinking about how she defended me back at the house, how I hadn’t earned that kind of treatment yet.

  “Isn’t that her decision?” Jay asked.

  I laughed. “When did you become Dear Abby?”

  Jay cocked his glass towards me. “This isn’t my first drink of the day.”

  I looked at him, really looked. At sixteen he left behind a family for this job. I knew he had a sister and a brother, a dad who was still alive. I knew there had been a woman, too; he spoke about her in his darkest, drunkest moments. After a month together, she’d found out how he made his money and sp
lit in fear.

  I hardly blamed her.

  Jay hadn’t given up the job, though. He’d sunk so far into it I couldn’t see where he ended and it began. He’d become this wise-cracking jester, drinking alone at midday in this old shithole. Once he’d contacted the boss about my taking the Foster job, his purpose here completed, he’d go wherever the next job took him and probably find some other local shithole to get wasted in daily.

  It unsettled me, all of a sudden, to realize this.

  “I don’t exactly have any transferable skills,” I pointed out.

  “Ranch work.”

  I shuddered. “Fuck that.”

  “Be a goddamn burger flipper. I’m not your fucking career advisor.”

  “There he is,” I drawled. “Wondered where you’d gone for a minute, there.”

  “Shut up, asshole.” Jay rolled his eyes. “Look, just—maybe consider it, yeah? If I had an opportunity like yours…” He drifted off, gazing right past me with a small frown. “Well, whatever, but just think about it.”

  I was. The point of coming here had been to stop thinking about it. It hadn’t exactly worked out for me.

  On the table, my cell started buzzing: Taryn.

  Jay smirked, pushing his chair back to stand on swaying legs. “Speak and you shall receive.” He drained the last of his drink. “I gotta piss. Don’t wait up.”

  At that, he left me, and I answered the phone.

  “Hey, where are you?” she asked, calm sounding, which was encouraging.

  “My hotel,” I lied. “Why?”

  “I’m gonna come by, okay?”

  “Right.” I stood, tossing some bills on the table—enough to cover Jay for at least a couple more hours at least. “I’ll be here.”

  I cringed, breaking for the door, squinting at the burst of sunlight against my stinging eyes. My hotel was only around the corner and I quickly jogged there, shutting myself up in my room and splashing freezing water on my flushed face.

  It wasn’t long before Taryn was knocking.

  Chapter Nine

  Taryn

  Anna and Ethan left my place, my lengthy explanation to them in dire need of digestion.