Saved By The Hitman

“I trust you,” I tell him. “I always will.”

“Fate would be pretty angry if you didn’t, eh?” he says with a just-Jett smirk. “Now get that fine ass in there.”

Patricia and I walk into the bunker, into the bright electronic lights. I turn, staring at Jett over the top of Rebel’s head. He stares back, his face tight, his eyes searing into me as though it’s costing him a great deal to leave us here.

“Always remember,” he snarls. “I’ll never abandon you. You’re everything to me, Juliana.”

He presses a few buttons on the keypad and the door starts to close, slowly, shutting us into the relatively small space. I wander over to one of the bunk beds and sit down with a sigh, stunned at how badly I miss him already, my heart pounding in my chest when I think about the possibility of him not returning.

But I know that would never happen.

I believe him with all my heart.

Rebel climbs from my lap onto the bed, sniffing around the edges of it, and then curling into a ball atop the pillow and letting out a yawn that goes straight to my heart.

I can’t wait to hear our children yawn for the first time.

“So are you going to tell me what’s going on with you two?” Patricia murmurs, standing a few feet away with her hands clasped in front of her, worrying at each other. She glances at the closed door and then back to me. “I would say I’m angry at you for going behind my back, but I haven’t exactly got the moral high ground here, have I?”

“I didn’t go behind your back,” I say.

“Huh?”

“We met last night.”

“Last night?” she gasps. “But the way you—you two—last night?”

I laugh, nodding. “Yeah, I know. It’s crazy.”

“Is this one of your weird millennial jokes, like the time you tried to get me to fall off that balcony?”

I give her a mock-glare. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

“I was trying to take a selfie on the balcony, but you kept bumping into the selfie-stick.”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. It’s like we’re drifting back into the old banter, the way things were before all this craziness started.

“But you two seem so close,” she says, walking over to the bed and then raising an eyebrow.

It takes me a moment to realize what she’s doing. She’s asking if she can sit next to me.

“Patricia,” I snap, lashing my hand out and curling it around her wrist. I yank her down onto the bed. “How many times do I have to tell you? I forgive you. You saved me.”

“I guess I just thought you’d need more time to process it,” she says with a shrug.

“Things seem to be moving quickly lately in all departments,” I tell her.

“How is this possible?” she asks, looking like Auntie Patricia for a moment.

It’s a nickname I gave her at the event planning agency when she got particularly bossy. It was all in good fun, and she even started referring to herself as it sometimes, when she was particularly focused on getting a job done.

“Don’t make me go all Auntie Patricia on your ass,” she’d say.

Eyebrow raised, supremely skeptical, she says, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I’m following my heart,” I tell her firmly. “I know how that sounds. I know it makes me sound naïve and silly and—and fine, fine. Let me sound that way. But I don’t care. I can’t explain how I feel what I feel for Jett so quickly. I just know that it’s true. We’re destined to be together. We’re going to create a family together. If this … If he doesn’t … Oh, God, what if the Bratva kills him?”

The tears come as if from nowhere, flooding out of me and streaming down my cheeks. I cough them back and then collapse against Patricia when another wave thunders through me.

She rubs my back softly, whispering soothing words I can barely hear over the sound of my own tears.

“I’m sorry,” I croak. “He just means so much to me. I know it won’t make sense to you.”

“It does,” she flares. “Maybe I can’t fully empathize. I’ve never felt what you clearly do. But I know you, Julia. I can tell how much you care about him. I can tell how much you want – need – to be with him.”

“You don’t think it’s crazy?” I murmur, wiping away my tears and looking at her face, made blurry with my tears.

Her smile twitches kindly.

“Oh, it’s crazy,” she says. “But I don’t think that makes it any less real. The only question I have is, do you think he’s going to treat you right? Do you trust him to give you the life you deserve?”

“Yes,” I say at once.

“Then I’m jealous,” she says. “Hold onto it, Julia. Never let it go.”