How the Hitman Stole Christmas

There’s no way in hell she’s going to listen to that bullshit.

I’m grumpier about the idea of letting her call him, but my concern that she could change her mind has dissipated. I don’t know what she ever saw in this callous asshole, but even semi-captivity must be better than being his.

What a dick.

His girlfriend is missing and all he can think about is how it makes him look.

The memory of earlier tonight flits across my mind. Autumn stranded on the side of the road with her face buried in her hands, worried about her boyfriend being angry at her because she broke down.

Now I see firsthand why she thought that.

This isn’t just some stressful off-night for him—he really is that much of an asshole.

Well, he’s her ex-asshole now. He’s never going to see her again.

And she’s not going to hear this goddamn message.

I pull the phone away from my ear and press delete.

“Jasper!”

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” I cast her an apologetic glance. “Force of habit.”

Her jaw hangs open, her expression alarmed, almost worried. Maybe it’s an old instinct. Maybe she thinks he’ll get mad if she doesn’t know what he said.

His anger is no longer relevant to her, but I realize she’s not used to that yet.

“Well, what did it say?” she asks, glancing down at the phone in my hand.

“About what you’d expect,” I answer, making an effort to loosen my grip. “He wanted to know why you haven’t been answering his calls, where you were. Standard stuff.”

Autumn huffs, shooting me a look of mild annoyance. “Well, I wish you’d have let me listen to it.”

“I meant to. I delete all of my voicemails, so I pressed the button without thought. I’m sorry,” I lie.

Even though I didn’t mean it, my apology smoothes down her ruffled feathers and she offers me a faint smile. “It’s all right. Accidents happen.” She barely misses a beat. “I can just call him back. Let him know—”

“Not tonight,” I tell her, turning the phone off so the bastard can’t call back. “You can call tomorrow.”

“But… it seems cruel to make him worry all night.”

Don’t fret, snowflake. The bastard isn’t worried.

Obviously, I can’t say that, but I’m all right just telling her no and playing the bad guy for the moment. I’d rather let her think poorly of me than let her call to reassure him and be met with the uncaring bullshit I just had to listen to.

If he ever talks to her like that again now that she’s mine, it’ll be the last time he ever speaks to anyone. I’ll cut the fucker’s tongue out and see if he can still spew his venom without it.After such a long, eventful day, Autumn falls straight to sleep.

Me, I have trouble sleeping. Never been very good at it.

I don’t mind lying awake with her in my arms, though.

After all that trouble setting up the restraints, I didn’t even use them. I was feeling a little softer toward my captive girlfriend after I heard the way her ex talked to her, decided to take her word for it and give her a chance to prove herself.

She swore she wouldn’t try to leave, swore she wouldn’t try anything sneaky, swore she just wanted to be comfortable while she slept. I tried to believe her, but when she first settled into my arms, I was on high alert.

I expected her body to be tense when I wrapped my arms around her bare waist and pulled her back against me, but she let me hold her with all the contentment of a sleepy kitten.

If she wanted to sneak out, she wouldn’t have fallen asleep so easily. Escape would have been on her mind. She would’ve been planning and plotting, leaving as few details to chance as possible.

I don’t think she’ll try to leave, but I push off sleep for as long as I can just in case I’m wrong.

When my eyes drift open next and the motel room is bright from the sun streaming in through the drawn curtains, I jolt a little. I must have moved around in my sleep because I’m on my back now, not touching Autumn. I turn my head and see her still lying there, curled up on the edge of the bed with her back to me. The thin cover has fallen almost all the way off her—I must’ve hogged it, habit of sleeping alone—and since I made her sleep naked, she must be freezing.

Guilt grabs me right in the gut. I reach over and yank her back toward the middle of the bed. She stirs and makes a little noise as I pull the blanket over her, but her eyes don’t open. She must still be sleepy.

I can’t help smiling, watching her instinctively burrow into the spot I made warm by sleeping on it. Since she’s asleep and won’t know, I lean over and give her a little kiss on the forehead.