Free Lace and Bullets: A Hitman Romance by Marie Carnay Page A

sidewalks. Good intentions didn’t live there.
    Mia hugged her hands to her chest. She needed to stay strong, not break down. Damien might be a son of a bitch, but she didn’t regret what they’d shared. She didn’t hate him, just his choice.
    What was it like to grow up with no options and no future? What would that do to a person? She might not have had a loving family, but he was right—she had a roof over her head and plenty of food to eat. She hadn’t had to do terrible things to survive.
    Damien did, though. She could see it etched into the lines around his eyes. The scars on his hands. The tattoos covering his back. He’d grown up with no one and nothing. If trading her in got him some semblance of satisfaction, then she didn’t blame him.
    It just meant she was on her own.
    The car slowed and Damien motioned at the warehouse looming ahead in the darkness. “Hand-off is in there. We wait until they show, then we go in.”
    Mia nodded.
    Wind blew in from the water and an empty beer can tripped across the street. Did her father ever come to the underbelly of the city? Did he ever pull up and wait in the gloom on the side of the road?
    The hairs rose on Mia’s neck as headlights swam in the inky dark beside the warehouse.
    “They’re here.” Damien unlocked the car. “Time to go.”
    The driver’s side door swung open and Damien got out. He ducked back in and pulled a pistol from the console. “I’ll come around.” He shut his door and came over to the passenger side.
    Mia’s heart hammered in her chest. She had to get away. If she made it inside the warehouse, freedom would be a memory. She would be owned by the cartel. Vivid images of all the horrors and atrocities waiting for her barged in on her consciousness.
    Begging was all she had left. “Please don’t do this.”
    Damien took her by the arm and hauled her out of the car. He shut her door with his hip and the sound made her jump. It sounded like a gunshot.
    With his hand tight on her arm, her kidnapper propelled her down the sidewalk. Every step closer to the building sent another tremor through Mia’s body. She’d been brave so many times in her life. Basketball games in high school. Swim team in college. Climbing Half Dome during spring break in law school.
    But those were child’s play. Her brave moments were things people who lived comfortable lives did to feel good about themselves. Nothing could have prepared her for this.
    Sweat trickled down between her shoulder blades despite the harsh wind. Her feet stumbled over the sidewalk. Her legs barely worked at all.
    Damien pulled up short as the inside of the warehouse came into view. He ducked the pair of them behind a dumpster and motioned for her to be silent. With one hand on his gun, he peered around the edge.
    His whole body stiffened.
    “What is it?”
    “There’s too many people here. At least four enforcers…Something’s not right.”
    Mia fought the urge to panic. If Damien—a man she’d watch kill someone in cold blood—said that, then things were bad. Really bad.
    He peered around the dumpster again.
    “Whatcha’ doin’ out here, my friend? Got cold feet?”
    A man the size of a damn tractor-trailer with more tattoos than bare skin appeared in front of Mia and she bit her tongue to keep from screaming.
    Damien turned like he hadn’t a care in the world. Only his tight jaw said otherwise. “Surprised you’re here, Rocco. Did Mr. Marcelo think he needed protection?”
    The man snorted up a nasty glob of crud and spit on the ground before coming closer. He sidled up to Mia and she shrank back against the cold metal. Everything about him said evil. His sneer, the jagged scar running the length of his arm, even his smell. Stale beer and smoke.
    Rocco’s gun gleamed under the streetlight as he ran the barrel down the side of Mia’s cheek. “Just checking out the merchandise. Heard there was a fine piece coming in tonight.”
    The gun trailed lower, grazing Mia’s