Free Hitman's Baby (Mob City Book 2) by Holly Hart Page A

swept through me.

    I didn't know why I was here, I didn't know who the hell this guy was, but I knew that I wasn't just going to let him control my life like this. I had a vague sense that someone had tried to control me before, even if I couldn't remember the details. I cursed my stupid amnesia for holding me back like this.

    W hatever the reason was , I did something stupid.

    I went for the knife .

    I crept towards the kitchen , grabbed the largest knife that I could see, and stalked back to where my captor lay resting on the couch. I stood over him, desperately battling with my breath, trying to get it under control, instead of ragged and hurried. It was a losing battle.

    T he big man's chest rose and fell, and he turned in his sleep, and suddenly I saw his face for the first time. I'd expected to see, well – I don't really know what I'd expected to see. Perhaps scars, and the hard edges of the killer. But what I saw didn't fit any of that. He looked peaceful, at rest, and suddenly the knife in my hand that was raised up high ready to plunge down into his throat felt like it weighed a million pounds. It felt like a responsibility I simply couldn't bear. Who was I to take a man's life, even if he had taken my freedom?

    A nd then something unexpected happened . The man opened one eye and stared directly at me. His hand shot up and grabbed my forearm, closing around it in a vice like grip.

    " G ive me the knife , Ellie," he rumbled. I couldn't have even if I'd tried, I was completely shut down with fear, and besides his hand was closed so firmly around my forearm that I wasn't even sure if I'd be able to release the knife at all.

    Y ou should have just run . Why did you try to be a hero?

    " W hat ," I trembled, looking at the face of the man I was sure was going to kill me. "What are you going to do to me?"

12
    R oman
    "Have you ever killed a man, Ellie?" I asked. My voice sounded dead, even to me, and I hated myself for it. I couldn't even sound reassuring if I tried, it wasn't in my makeup. My childhood took that away from me, and so much more. Words have never been kind to me, nor me to them. I'm no good with them, not like I am with a knife, or my hands. One word can mean two things, and I can't handle that. I value simplicity, not complexity. There is simplicity in life, and beauty too.
    The muscles on her face flickered in a riot of indecision, as if she wasn't sure whether I was about to reach up and take her life. I'd seen that look before, more times than I care to remember. It's what happens when the body pumps enough adrenaline into a person's system to kill a small animal.
    The mind has checklists, instinctual checklists that it runs through. Fight or flight. It's the instinct that carried the human race out from the wild and into civilization, the reason we survived long enough to turn flint and stone into fire, to build walls and homes, wheels and cars. But in the few seconds before the mind makes its decision, all is still. And for a man like me, those few seconds are all it takes to end a life. As I looked up at Ellie's terrified face I saw two things: that she was brave, but that she was no killer.
    But I was.
    "No," she croaked.
    I started talking, but I didn't recognize my own voice. It sounded like someone else was talking, and a cold, dead tone of voice filled the room. It was like my body was merely a puppet, and some other consciousness was animating my brain and limbs. "I have. Never a woman, though."
    Her face blanched. I kicked myself. I'd meant to reassure her, but the second the words escaped my lips, I realized what they actually sounded like.
    A threat.
    I kept going, cursing my upbringing for failing to equip me with the skills I needed to dig myself out of this hole. I wanted to reach up and hug her, but she was more likely to think that I was trying to kill her. I reached up and touched her neck lightly, with two fingers. Her skin was as soft as it looked, maybe softer. It felt like