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

to be cautious. The last time we locked eyes he had ended up with a bloody thigh, and I had gotten out of there by the skin of my teeth.
    Ahead I could hear the steady swipe of the barber’s blade as he shaved the crime boss’ face, still opting to use the straight blade instead of the new, faster blades that were in style. I exited the storage room and walked directly over to the chair with my gun leveled at the back of Romano’s head. The barber saw me first, his eyes growing wide as he stepped back, his hand raised, the razor shaking in his hand.
    “What the fuck are you doing?” Romano asked before he caught a glimpse of me in the mirror, his ugly mug twisting into a cruel smile. “Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in. I should kill you where you stand.”
    The sound of a gun cocking caught my attention, and I returned the smile, pressing the muzzle of my gun into the back of Romano’s slicked-back hair. He had a rapidly receding hairline and was very vain about it, which was why he tried his best to cover it up with a comb-over. I gave him a year tops before he really would have to start doing something different. “Tell them to back down.”
    His eyes met mine in the mirror and for a moment weighing up his options, and I thought he was going to call my bluff. I had no qualms about blowing this asshole’s head off—would do the area, the town and people a whole load of good, I thought, though it would probably start a turf war, too—but my chances of getting out was going to be pretty slim afterward, and hell, Hazel needed me. I couldn’t be hasty; I couldn’t let her down, not now.
    “Fine,” he barked out, motioning with his hand. “You look desperate, Jack, so I will allow you to live. For now.”
    I eased my gun away from his head but kept it in my hand, ready to fire if necessary. I didn’t trust Romano. “So what can I do for you, Jack?” he said, motioning to the barber to continue.
    “You’re going to help me connect the dots,” I forced out, my instincts on high alert. “And word on the street is you have the answers that I’m looking for.”
    “That weasel Pedro,” he spat, allowing the barber to finish the last line of shaving cream and wipe his face with a towel. “I should have killed him years ago.”
    I shrugged. Not confirming or denying that Pedro was my source—let them two figure it out between themselves. He spun around in the chair, his shrewd eyes looking at me. I saw the hatred deep within his cold eyes and couldn’t blame him. Hell, I hated him, too. The man was dirty, and I refused to take any jobs from him or any of his associates. I might be an asshole and a killer, but I didn’t like to be double-crossed.
    “So, Jack, what’s the trade?”
    “How about we just call it even,” I drawled, making a great show of my gun. He snorted with laughter and I stood there, waiting for him to calm his fat ass down. He always had to put on a show—a diva in another life, I thought. Finally, he wiped his eyes with his hands and crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing me. “You shot me in my fucking thigh.”
    “You tried to screw me over and cheat me out of fifty grand,” I shot back, tapping the gun against my thigh just to rile him. His eyes darkened and I grinned, glad to get on his last nerve. “Come on, Romano. Give me what I want and we will call it a day.” I was starting to lose my patience, and his thugs kept edging forward. “Tell me what you know about what happened to Nixon and where his daughter is.”
    “Oh, so it’s the girl that you’re after, is it?” Romano eyed me for a few seconds, waiting for a reaction. I kept my face stuck in neutral. Startling me, he threw up his hands, and pushed himself out of the chair. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Colt wants your head on a platter. What did you do to piss him off, Jack? Shoot him in his leg, too? And if it didn’t piss me off so much to even say his name, I probably would’ve