Day Three- A Hitman Romance: What Bad Boys Do- Book 1

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Day Three- A Hitman Romance: What Bad Boys Do- Book 1 Page 6

by Wilder, L.


  “Okay.”

  I started the fire, then went into the kitchen to put a pot of water on to boil. By the time I returned with her tea, Madison was sound asleep. I placed her cup of tea down on the table, then walked over and sat down in the recliner next to her. I hadn’t been sitting there long when I found myself looking over in Madison’s direction. I told myself I was just checking to make sure that she was okay, but deep down, I knew it was more than that. This sleeping beauty had struck a chord inside of me, making me long for her in ways I couldn’t comprehend. I simply didn’t understand the pull I felt towards her, and as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I liked it.

  I’d been to hell and back, fought in a war where there was no victor, took down monsters no one else could even touch, and in the process, I’d lost pieces of my soul that I’ll never get back. I just hope that when Madison learned the truth about me, I wouldn’t lose my chance completely.

  6

  Madison

  I woke in a daze. I couldn’t remember a night when I’d slept so soundly, and it took me several minutes to shake the cobwebs. As I stretched out and yawned, I’d all but forgotten that I hadn’t been sleeping safe and snug in my bed. That realization didn’t hit me until I rolled over and discovered that I was in Jasper’s bedroom, but not only that—Jasper was sleeping right next to me. While I was a little caught off guard, I wasn’t completely unnerved by the discovery, nor did I feel threatened or uncomfortable. It was just the opposite; I considered myself safe and protected. Maybe that feeling was only natural since he’d saved me—not once, but twice—when he found out I’d hurt my ankle and carried me all the way up the mountain, but it was more than that. I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was. Regardless of how I felt, I had no business lying in the bed with a complete stranger, so I decided to get up and move back to the sofa.

  I started to sit up, but quickly stopped moving when Jasper’s arm flailed to the side and landed on my stomach, holding me in place. I didn’t want to wake him, so I settled back on my pillow and tried to remain still as I watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful, almost angelic, and as I lay there, I found myself wondering why he was out here alone. He was a handsome guy who seemed to have a level head and a kind heart. I couldn’t imagine what could’ve happened to make him want to close himself off from the world—so much so that he was living in a cabin on top of a deserted mountain and had become a killer for hire.

  I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard him mumble, “Morning.”

  My eyes drifted over to his as I answered, “Good morning.”

  “You sleep okay?”

  “I did.” I pulled the covers up to my chin and added, “I thought I fell asleep on the sofa.”

  “You did.”

  “So, how did I end up in your room?”

  “I thought you’d be more comfortable in here.” He ran his hand over his face and yawned before he said, “When I tried to leave, you wouldn’t let me.”

  “What do you mean I wouldn’t let you?”

  “Let me rephrase.” He turned and looked at me. “You asked me to stay with you.”

  “Oh. I don’t remember that.”

  “Happened just the same.” Concern flashed through his eyes as he sat up and asked, “How’s the ankle?”

  I tried to move it a little. “I can’t say for sure, but I think it’s better.”

  “Good.” Jasper got out of bed and my breath caught when I noticed he was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. I could feel the heat rush to my face as my eyes skirted over his muscular chest and drool-worthy abs. I couldn’t imagine how often he’d have to work out to get such a perfectly defined physique. Whatever the answer, it was worth it. With his chiseled jaw and broad, powerful shoulders, he looked like a Greek god as he walked over to the end of the bed. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he eased the comforter back and exposed my ankle. I was too busy gawking at him to realize what he was doing, but at that moment, I just didn’t care. He could’ve thrown the covers to the floor and had his way with me. I wouldn’t have protested. He lowered his hand to my foot, and a rush of heat surged through my body when he ran the tips of his fingers along the top of it and over my ankle bone. It was at that moment I started to silently curse myself, wishing I’d been better about shaving my legs. He was still studying my ankle when he said, “The swelling has gone down, but it’s still pretty bruised.”

  “It’ll be fine.”

  “You’ll need to stay off of it for a couple of days.”

  “Okay.”

  As he pulled the covers back over my foot, he told me, “I’ll be right back.”

  I watched as he walked into his bathroom and closed the door behind him. Moments later, I heard him turn on the shower. Hearing the water running must’ve triggered something in my brain, because I was suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to use the toilet. Remembering the other bathroom was just across the hall, I sat up and threw the covers back. That’s when I was hit with another shock. I was no longer wearing the jeans I’d had on the night before. Instead, I was wearing a pair of my pajama pants. As I eased off the bed, I tried to remember the moment when I’d changed my clothes, but nothing was coming to me. While I was irritated with myself for not being able to remember, my bladder didn’t seem to mind. Unable to wait a minute longer, I stood up and hobbled across the hall to the bathroom. While I was there, I pulled my hair into a ponytail, washed my face, and brushed my teeth.

  By the time I was done my ankle was throbbing, and I was struggling to make it back into the living room. I’d stopped to catch my breath when Jasper rushed up behind me. “What are you doing?”

  “I had to go to the bathroom.”

  He knelt down and lifted me into his arms and said, “I would’ve helped.”

  “You were in the shower.”

  He lowered me to the sofa, and as he propped my foot up on a pillow, I noticed he’d changed into a pair of jeans and a tight-fitting, black t-shirt. His short hair was still wet as he ran his fingers through it and ordered, “You’ve gotta stay off this foot, Madison.”

  “I know … But this time, it couldn’t be helped.”

  “Understood.” Then he looked down at me with a serious expression. “I promised to show you proof that what I’ve told you is true.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You want some coffee first?”

  While I was interested in seeing the proof he’d mentioned the night before, I was surprised that he wanted to jump right into it. “We’re going to do this now?”

  “Don’t see any point in waiting.”

  “Umm... okay? Then definitely, coffee first.”

  “You got it.”

  Once he’d gone into the kitchen to start the coffee, he went over to his desk and grabbed his laptop. He brought it, several flash drives, and a couple of folders over to the coffee table and put them down in front of me. “What’s all this?”

  “You’ll see.”

  He continued to gather some items when my attention was drawn over to the painting that hung over the fireplace. It was a picture of a couple underneath an umbrella, standing at the edge of a dock and looking out onto a lake as it rained. It was a gorgeous piece, one that could’ve easily hung in our gallery, and I was surprised that I hadn’t noticed it before. When he came back into the room, I motioned my hand towards the picture and said, “That painting is beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Would I know the artist?”

  “Doubtful.” His voice was strained as he continued, “Lainey painted it.”

  “Lainey?”

  Sadness filled his eyes as he said, “We’ll get to her.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  As he headed back into the kitchen, he asked, “Cream or sugar in your coffee?”

  “Both, please.”

  Seconds later, he returned to the living room carrying two cups of coffee. He placed mine down on the side table closest to me, then took a sip of his before he sat down on
the sofa beside me. He took a deep breath before he said, “I’m not good at this. Never was.”

  “Good at what?”

  “Talking. Especially about myself.” I could sense his unease “But I’ll try.”

  “Okay.”

  His face was void of expression as he handed me a folder and said, “I joined the Marines right after I graduated high school.”

  I opened the folder and found several pictures of Jasper wearing fatigues, along with two other photos in his full-dress uniform. He looked so young, so handsome, and there was no hiding the look of pure determination in his young eyes. As I studied the different photographs, Jasper told me about his time in the Marines and how he became a scout sniper. It was clear from the sound of his voice that he was proud of the accomplishment, but his tone quickly changed when he said, “After years of training, I thought I was ready for anything. I was wrong. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the things I saw during the war in Iraq.”

  I could hear the anguish in his voice as he told me about some of the terrible things that he’d witnessed. My heart ached for him when he spoke of the children he’d seen killed, and how hard it had been to lose the men he’d become so close to in his brigade. When he paused to collect himself, I looked at him and softly said, “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Jasper.”

  “That’s only the beginning.” He inhaled a cleansing breath and continued, “I was pretty fucked up when I came back home. My head wasn’t right. I was a loose cannon, angry and bitter as hell.” He went on to tell me about the struggles he’d faced with coming home. While he was a completely different man, the world that he returned to hadn’t changed at all, and the cards seemed to stack up against him—fights, arrests, and his inability to find work. It was a heartbreaking story to hear. “I was a lost cause, but Lainey refused to give up on me.”

  Other than the fact that she’d painted the picture above the fireplace, I had no idea who she was, so I asked, “Was she your wife?”

  “No. Nothing like that.” His eyes met mine. “Lainey cared for me … loved me, even when I didn’t deserve it, and I cared for her. But back then, I wasn’t in a place to love her like she truly deserved. I’d always hoped I’d get to the point where I could, but that chance was stolen from me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Lainey was murdered.”

  When he told me about the night that Lainey died, I was completely stunned. It was hard to believe something so horrific could’ve happened to a man who’d already been through so much. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, and her. Those men had destroyed their chance at happiness and left Jasper broken beyond repair. It was then that I finally understood why he pulled himself away from the rest of the world. He needed to escape in order to protect himself from any further pain. As I wiped the tears from my cheeks, I told him, “I’m so sorry, Jasper. I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been for you.”

  “It was the final straw.” He took another folder from the table and handed it to me. As he watched me open it, he said, “Those were the men who killed Lainey.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “They were my first hit,” he replied unapologetically. “You can see their rap sheets. Killing Lainey was just one of many crimes they committed.”

  I sifted through page after page of criminal charges that included drug possession, attempted murder, rape, and theft with not a single conviction. “I don’t understand. Why weren’t these men in jail?”

  “Like I told you before … our judicial system doesn’t always work. These guys got off scot-free with one simple technicality. A crooked judge. A missing search warrant. An under-the-table payoff. The list goes on and on.” He handed me another file and said, “That’s Carlos Alvarez, a cartel boss who was big into sex trafficking, especially young girls … seven- and eight-year-old kind of young. The FBI had been trying to take him down for years but never could.”

  “So, he became one of your hits?”

  “Yes … There were more to follow.” He grabbed his laptop, and once he’d logged on, he inserted one of the flash drives. Seconds later, he turned the screen to me, showing me another criminal he’d encountered, followed by another and then another. It was impossible not to feel a little overwhelmed by it all. While there was no mistaking the fact that these men were malicious criminals, it was hard to believe that the man sitting next to me, the man who’d showed me so much kindness, had been hired to kill them. As he reached for another flash drive, he asked, “Are you seeing a pattern here?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good. Now, you’ll see why I was confused by this.”

  He turned the laptop to face me once again, and the air rushed from my lungs when I saw an image of myself on the screen. I pulled it closer and started reading all the information that was included in the file—my age, weight, and height, along with my address, where I worked, and information on my family. It even had my medical history, including my tonsillectomy when I was sixteen. “What is this?”

  “It’s your file … just like the others I showed you.”

  “There has to be some kind of mistake,” I gasped. “I’m not a criminal. I haven’t done anything like those men in the other files.”

  “I know, Madison.” He closed the laptop and placed it on the coffee table. “I had my doubts from the minute I saw your file, but I knew for certain that you weren’t like the others on day three.”

  “Day three?”

  “Yesterday was my day three. Normally, that’s the day I would’ve completed the hit, but things just weren’t adding up with you and I couldn’t go through with it.” His eyes met mine as he said, “You may not be like the others, but that doesn’t change the fact that a contract was put out on your life. There has to be a reason why someone would do that.”

  “But there’s not.” I could feel the tears burning in my eyes as I said, “I’ve never done anything that would make someone want to kill me … at least not that I’m aware of.”

  “No ex-boyfriends with money to blow?”

  I shook my head. “I’ve been on a couple of dates, but I haven’t had an actual boyfriend in over a year.”

  “Maybe some guy felt rejected or something.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What about your family? Would there be a reason why someone would want to—”

  “Kill a professor or a school librarian? I highly doubt it.”

  “Stranger things have happened,” he pushed. “Maybe they owe money to someone.”

  “No.”

  “Maybe one of them had an affair and the—?”

  Before he could finish his thought, I snapped, “Not a chance.”

  “Your brother?”

  “I can’t be sure, but I can’t think of any reason why someone would want to do something to hurt him. He’s a landscaper, lives with his girlfriend, and they have a daughter together. If they were out to get him, wouldn’t they hire a hit on Janice or the baby?”

  “You would think.”

  “Back to square one.” I dropped my head into my hands and sighed. “What am I going to do?”

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Madison. You have my word on that.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “You just have to try to keep it together, cause I’m gonna need your help with this.”

  I looked up at him. “Okay, I’ll try.”

  “Good.” He removed his hand from my shoulder. “There has to be something we aren’t thinking of.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not a criminal. I have no stalker ex-boyfriends or friends with grudges.”

  “What about an angry customer … or someone at work who you don’t get along with?”

  “No … at least nothing that would constitute the hiring of a hitman. I mean, seriously. I package and mail out deliveries …” Just as the words came out of my mouth, it hit me. “Wait. I just remembered something.”

  “What?”

&n
bsp; “There was this old painting … I was packing it up for shipment, and this strange piece of paper came out of the bottom of the frame.”

  “What kind of paper?”

  “It wasn’t the actual paper that was strange … it was what was written on it. There were all these odd numbers.” Feeling frustrated, I told him, “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Try. It’s important.”

  “I don’t know, Jasper. It was like a code or something. You’d have to see it to understand, but it’s back in New York.”

  “Where in New York?”

  “I put it in my purse before I left work the other day.” Without saying a word, Jasper walked over to a bookcase that was set into the wall beside the fireplace. After he moved a couple of books to the side, he reached back and pushed a hidden release button, causing one side of the bookcase to ease forward like a door. Once it was opened, a metal door appeared, which looked like a safe with a keypad. I watched as he placed his thumb on the keypad and unlocked it, then eased it open and turned on a light. The hidden room was filled with guns and other weapons, and from what I could tell, there was also a sitting area with a small fridge and a TV. He stepped inside and moments later, he came out carrying my purse and briefcase. Surprised, I asked, “You had it all along?”

  “I did.”

  “And my phone?”

  “Yes.” After he closed the door to the safe room, he carried my things over to me and said, “I had every intention of giving these back to you, but I had to be sure that you wouldn’t try to run or call for help first.”

  Reaching into my purse, I pulled out the paper I’d found in the frame and unfolded it and, after giving it another glance, handed it over to Jasper. “Maybe you can make some sense out of this.”

  As he studied the paper, a look of utter confusion fell across his face. With his eyebrows furrowed, he muttered, “What the hell?”

  “See. I told you it was strange.” I leaned towards him and peered down at the numbers. “Do you have any idea what it could be?”

 

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