Saving the Hitman (Men of Ruthless Corp)

“Jesus, Trudy, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I ever got you involved in any of this. My lifestyle isn’t suitable for someone like you,” I said to her. She looked both sad and stunned and her eyes welled with tears.

I jumped out of the car and ran to help her out of the SUV. Her door was jammed and I had to practically tear the thing off to get to her. I undid her seatbelt and pulled her into my arms.

“What do we do now?” she asked. I wasn’t sure if she was talking about us or the situation we were in.

“We’re walking distance from the house. You can see it just through the trees up there,” I said. I pointed in the direction of the cabin and wiped the blood from above her eye as she followed my finger.

We walked arm in arm, Trudy leaning into me for support while I dialed Rafa. He answered on video.

He was running down the stairs, his floppy hair disheveled, and he looked completely out of sorts.

"Have you seen Tatum?" he asked, his voice sounding frantic, a contrast to his usual level-headed one.

"No, we just got back. Walking up the hill. Trashed the car. They sent out a scout. Hopefully, we made it here before they did.”

“Checking the perimeter now. If they’ve got Fio, I’m fucking taking them all out.”

“You were supposed to watch her, dude,” I told my brother. “Stupid fuck,” I then muttered under my breath. We were coming up the back of the hill and could see the cabin in plain sight. It still looked like only Rafa’s car in the driveway and there was nothing suspicious in the clearing where the cabin stood.

When I looked at Trudy, she was crying, the tears making tracks through the spattering of dirt and blood on her face.

“I’ll keep you safe,” I told her.

“I don’t even care about that anymore. I gave myself to you and now you’re turning me away because you’re scared.”

She was right, it was true.

I didn’t know what to say and I felt like my fucking job would always get in our way.

“I’m crying because, if they have Fio, I can’t even imagine the atrocities they will do to her, Malik.”

True to her heart, Trudy wasn’t even thinking of herself, she was concerned for Tatum’s safety and she was right to feel that way.

“I’ll make it right, Trudy. I have to.” I opened the back door and we stepped into the kitchen of the cabin.

I’d never met a mark I couldn’t kill or a victim I couldn’t save, and I had zero intention of starting a new record that day.

Chapter 12

Trudy

Malik bristled, his mannerism now on guard, brutal, nothing at all like the man I'd spent the whole morning with.

"I can't find her, Malik. We were working on separate systems and she set up code to keep hers going and then ditched us. By the time I went to check on her, there’s no telling how long she’d already been gone.”

“Fuck, could she be double-crossing us?”

“Not a snowball’s chance in hell. Tatum works for herself and herself only. I’ve been following her for years. She’s a loner with no affiliates.”

“I think I know why she left,” I said suddenly.

Both brothers turn and look at me solemnly.

“Sorry for butting in. I think Tatum was falling for Rafa and that’s why she ran. I could see it in her face and I think she probably just got scared. With a background like ours, you can’t blame her for taking off.”

“Fuck!” Rafa exclaimed and punched the wall with his fist.

Malik walked over to a drawer in the kitchen and pulled out a gun, "You know how to use this?" he asked me.

"Yes," I said, nodding my head. It was true, I’d always carried my own handgun since I escaped the traffickers.

"Okay, good. I need you to go to our room and lock the doors. Anyone other than Rafa or me gets in, you shoot and don't ask questions. Keep your phone with you."

"Shouldn't we call the police?" I asked.

"No, we don't know what's going on, and if Tatum has just gone off for a walk or something, we don't want to tip off Gabrielli. Let's go."

Malik and I went to my room, and once inside, he started to check the space, even though Rafa had already cleared the house. Once he determined it was safe, he kissed me sweetly on the lips and left.

“Please be safe,” I called after him.

He turned in the door frame and looked at me fiercely.

“If I don’t come back, Trudy, please know that no one has ever made me feel as alive as I do with you.”

He closed the door.

“Lock it,” he demanded from the other side.

I took my phone into the bathroom and locked that door, too. Then I drew a hot bath and blotted the cut on my forehead with a wet towel.