Hitman's Revenge (a Forbidden Bad Boy Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page A

her.

Seven

Jack
Present Day
    I woke up in a foul mood, my dreams filled with every imaginable fear that I never wanted to have to deal with. I jumped into the shower and washed off the grime of the past two days before dressing, packing all of my shit back into the small duffel bag I liked to carry around before heading out. I was done with the motel. Walking out, I tied my bag onto the motorcycle and turned in the key card, paying off the rest of what I owed in cash before slinging myself over the seat and pulling away. It was somewhere near five AM; I’d managed about three hours sleep—much good it did, tossing and turning, but I had lived off less. There wasn’t a relaxed bone in my body, though. I was itching to get my hands on Romano so bad that I could taste it, but there were necessary stops I needed to make before my planned surprise visit with him.
    Turning north, I drove about an hour to a rambling house in the midst of the bayou, the sweet smell of the swamp greeting me as I climbed off the motorcycle. I had travelled that damn road numerous times in my life until I knew every bump and turn. The field before the old mailbox came into view, and then the dirt drive that led to the house, set back off the road.
    Nixon had said he’d wanted to see trouble coming if it found him way out here, and with the house butting up to the bayou, the chances of an idiot trying to come the back way was very slim. I roared up the drive and pulled in front of the house, cutting the engine and looking at the house before climbing off of the Harley.
    Never again was I going to see Nixon in the doorway or waving a hand at me from the attached toolshed and garage. I wasn’t going to walk in and see him sitting in his recliner, smoking those damn cigars he enjoyed. That time in my life was long-gone; Nixon’s life was over. I’d lost one set of parents to violence… and now this.
    “Shit, man, get it together,” I muttered to myself, climbing off the bike and walking to the front door. I needed to stop fucking about with my feelings and get what I came for.
    Walking into the quiet, empty interior of the house I chose to leave the lights off… the possibility that someone was lying in wait ever present in my mind.
    I knew the house like the back of my hand, able to move around with ease in the dark. It had been the place I had grown up in, the place where I had become a man and also left Hazel alone for her own good. I hadn’t known how the hell to handle her closeness, choosing to stay the hell away from her for her own safety and my sanity. But now I could see her smiling face in every crevice of this damn house. Even now I could smell her vanilla perfume intermingled with Nixon’s favorite cigars, and the light smell of what was probably their last meal together lingering in the air. The house didn’t feel the same without them there, and I found myself sneaking around like a cat burglar, waiting for someone to catch me. Would it feel the same to Hazel without Nixon there? Would she be able to come back to this place once I found her?
    Walking down the hall, I paused just outside of Hazel’s room, my boots ringing on the hardwood floor. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, letting the scent of her wash over me. She would never know how many times I had come in from a late night to do exactly that as she slumbered away in the bed, her protector watching over her and keeping her safe, just like I said I would.
    Her presence was always like a balm after a hard night, and often I had closed my eyes to think of her after a particularly hard job that had left me unsettled. Not sorry or disgusted mind you, just unsettled. I forced myself to walk farther down the hall to my old room, popping my head inside for a moment. It was still set up like I was coming back any day. I imagine it had been Hazel’s doing, considering the old man and I had discussed my need to not be around her and had agreed it was for the best. Nixon knew