The Killer's New Wife by Hamel, B. (uplifting novels .TXT) 📗

I smiled a little. “Tell you what. We make it through this alive, and I’ll pay for you to go back to school.”

“Oh, yeah?” She arched an eyebrow, a little smile on her lips. “So you started a little hit man scholarship, huh?”

I laughed and scratched my head. “I’m working on the name, but yeah, and you’re the first recipient.”

“All right,” she said. “We survive this and I’ll apply to some schools.”

“You’ve got a deal, but go easy on me. I’m rich, but I’m not that rich.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll only cost you a few hundred thousand dollars all told. Heck, I might want a master’s degree too. Think you’d pay for medical school?”

I leaned toward her and touched the back of her hand with my fingers. I was aware of several Valentino soldiers nearby, and at least one of them was watching. I had an ulterior motivation—I wanted them to report back to the Don that I was seen out with Tara, like I was really trying to seduce her. But then again, I liked the feel of her skin beneath my callused fingers, and the way her eyes glittered when I came near. Flirting with her, laughing with her, it felt natural and right.

“I’d gladly pay for medical school,” I said, “although I think I’d have to leave a long trail of bodies to afford it.”

“No problem,” she said, pulling her hand away. “I’ll save enough lives to make up for it.”

I grabbed the waitress’s attention and ordered two more drinks. Tara talked idly about TV shows she was missing, about her life working at the diner and the girls there, about what school was like back before she graduated, but neither of us mentioned her father. We skirted around his subject like a black hole in the middle of the room, but it didn’t seem to matter. Conversation flowed naturally, and soon I’d finished my second drink and started on a third.

“I should use the lady’s room,” Tara said, and pushed back from the table. “Or do you need to escort me there?”

“Feel free to escort yourself,” I said. “Unless you’re looking for company.”

“What a gentleman. I’d love a quickie in some dirty, dive bar bathroom.”

“I don’t think there’d be anything quick between us, darling.”

She laughed softly and her cheeks turned pink as she walked off, slipping through the crowd. I leaned back and watched her go, and tried to understand what the hell I was going to do with this messed-up situation.

I was torn between two extremes. At one end, I wanted her to run away. I didn’t think she belonged to me, not if she didn’t want it, and I wouldn’t force her into marriage. But at the other end, I wanted to follow orders and to do exactly what my Don asked of me. I was caught in an impossible situation, and she had more power than she realized.

The thing I didn’t know was, what did I actually want? If she wanted it, would I marry her? Some part of me thought yes, and the idea of having her around forever, in those tight yoga pants, with that adorable laugh and the way she chewed on her lip, and those bright pretty eyes, that idea of being her husband appealed to me in a way I’d never experienced before. I’d had women, but never one I wanted to stick around.

Tara was different. She was strong and self-possessed, and even though she was in an impossible situation, she seemed to be holding on the best she could. Truthfully, she should’ve broken down by now, because most normal humans snap under this kind of strain.

She didn’t, and that impressed me beyond anything else.

I wasn’t sure how much the news about her father really affected her. It was hard to tell, and except for right after she found out, we barely talked about it. I guessed she was struggling, but she was so good at hiding her emotions and shoving them all down out of sight that I wasn’t sure how she felt. I wanted to know where she was, and maybe I could meet her halfway.

I looked around as I turned the glass around in circles on the beat-up table. She’d been gone for almost five minutes, and I was starting to get impatient. Bringing her into a place like this was something of a risk, given how many made men there were around. Bad shit happening wasn’t unheard of, though most people were on their best behavior when surrounded by a bunch of thugs. Still, when ten minutes had passed, and she still wasn’t back, I couldn’t wait any longer.

I got up and headed to the back of the bar, down a small hallway, and around a corner. The women’s room was on the right, and I hesitated outside. Nobody else was around, and the light above flickered as some guys in the kitchen beyond a pair of double doors to my left shouted at each other in Spanish over a radio playing a Top 40 station.

“Fuck it,” I said softly, and pushed open the door. “Tara? You okay in here?”

The lighting was dim and for one second, I didn’t understand what I saw over near the far wall. There was water on the floor, and toilet paper strewn around, and broken glass glittered. A window was open, and warm air from the alley blew inside.

Tara struggled as a man tried to shove her outside.

I barreled forward and nearly slipped as I lowered my shoulder and slammed into the guy. He grunted in shock and cursed. I didn’t get a good look at him as my knee came up, smashing into his thigh, barely missing his groin. He punched me in the gut, then in the jaw, and I caught his next attempt. We wrestled, and I managed to toss him over my hip and into the stall.

Tara staggered back, away from the fight, and I jumped on the guy. He