Knocked Up by the Killer

“And you’re, what, a moral artistic murderer?”

“Something like that.”

“You don’t like him then, I take it.”

“Fucking hate that guy.”

“Why would they send him, if he’s so bad?”

“Probably the only person that was willing to take the contract in short notice,” I said. “And I bet word’s gone around that I’m involved in all this, so most people with half a brain still stay far away.”

“You didn’t look like you were doing much good.”

I glared at her. “He caught me unprepared.”

“Really?”

“I didn’t think they’d send someone tonight.”

“So he broke in without you knowing?”

I hesitated. “Uh. No.”

“Then how were you unprepared?”

“I just was,” I said, annoyed.

“Right, okay.” She chewed her fingernails then tugged on a piece of hair. “My neighbors heard those gunshots, you know.”

“I know.”

“What if someone called the cops?”

“We’ll plead innocent.”

“Will that work?”

“Probably not.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “How about you get in this tub with me and we have a little fun before we go to jail?”

“Tanner.”

“Just a thought.”

“I’m serious,” she said. “What do we do if the cops come?”

“I’ll tell them we heard the noise too but don’t know what it was.”

“Will that work?”

“I really have no idea.”

She let out a frustrated breath and kept tugging on her hair. “You’re useless, you know that, right?”

“If I weren’t here, you’d be dead,” I said. “Even though he made a damn racket getting in here, you still didn’t wake up until he started shooting.”

“I was in the other room,” she said.

I shrugged, grimaced in pain, and let out a breath.

“Look, it’s not safe here, okay?”

“We’re not having this discussion again.”

“What’s with you?”

She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“There’s a guy that wants to murder you. And your biggest concern is where we sleep? Come on, Elise. We need to get the fuck out of here and move into a hotel that I can properly defend.”

She opened her mouth and I could see the angry comeback on her lips. But she only let out a grunt and leaned back against the toilet bowl. The lid rattled as she crossed her arms.

I soaked in the tub as the silence stretched.

“Fine,” she said.

“Fine, what?”

“We’ll do it your way.”

I let a smile slip over my lips. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

“Only because I believe you now.”

“Did you really think I was lying?”

“No,” she said. “I knew— I knew this was real. But I wasn’t sure you’d really… you know.”

“Keep you safe?”

“Yeah.”

I opened my eyes and looked at her. I saw tears gathered in her lids.

“I promise,” I said. “I’m not the kind of man to turn my back on a promise.”

“You better not be.” She stood abruptly. “Let’s leave tonight.”

“Good.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Anything I can do?”

“No.”

“I’m going to pack.”

“Good.” I smiled at her. “Bring something sexy for me.”

She made a strange face then grinned. “You sure?” she asked. “You might not be able to use it.” She glanced down at my dick.

I laughed and shrugged. Water splashed.

“I doubt a couple knees to the balls will stop me.”

“I believe you.” She shook her head and left me alone in the bathroom.

I sighed and stretched. Every inch of me hurt. I was exhausted.

But at least I’d get to sleep in a nice hotel soon instead of this tiny little death trap of an apartment.8EliseHe looked like he got hit by a train.

His right eye was puffy. His jaw was swollen. He spit blood on the white concrete outside of my apartment before we got into a cab.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” I asked as the cab drove us to The Rittenhouse.

I’d never even heard of the hotel, but it was tucked there just beside Rittenhouse Square right in the heart of downtown.

“Fine,” he said.

The cabbie dropped us out front and we headed inside. The night desk clerk looked confused and a little annoyed, but she got us a room with two beds. It cost an obscene amount of money per night but Tanner put it on a credit card without flinching.

“We could stay somewhere cheaper,” I said in the elevator ride up. The metal gleamed as if polished daily. The lights were bright and cheery.

“And deprive you of this luxury?” He shook his head.

I rolled my eyes.

The elevator took us to the fifteenth floor. We got out and I lugged my suitcase down the hall. He limped a little and pressed a hand against his flank. The carpet was rich red with gold patterning. The walls were unmarked and textured. Fixtures looked faux-gold. It was dead silent in the way only hotels can be.

He stopped outside our room, 1522. I pressed the key against the lock and the door popped open.

Inside, the carpet was a rich blue with flower-like crests in even spaces. We stepped into a small, narrow living room area with a couch, a chair, two end tables, a small round table in front of a window, a coffee table, and a flat-screen television on a stand. The furniture looked almost new, or at least deep cleaned.