Hook (A Hitman's Bait 2)
Chapter 4
Notagain.
I sighed as I walked into the bedroom while rubbing a towel over my wet hair. The bed was neatly made. Not how I’d left it. Earlier I’d only straightened the fitted sheet and draped the comforter over it. I’d thought that would be enough to satisfy Sully’s housekeeper, but I’d been wrong.
While I’d been in the shower, Maggie had snuck in and done the whole hotel impression, tucking and adding layers that I grudgingly admitted looked pretty awesome. I wasn’t used to someone cleaning up after me, and that hadn’t changed after living with Sully for just over a month. The thought of the older woman touching the sheet I’d had over my head this morning while I gave Sully a blow job didn’t sit well with me.
But what could I do? I’d thought by me making the bed she would stay out of our room. So far, that hadn’t worked. Did she resent having two people to take care of when she’d signed up to look after just Sully?
Deep in thought, I stepped into our walk-in closet and skipped through outfits until I found a mini T-shirt dress. The cat print matched my mood perfectly. I slipped into a pair of black lace underwear, pulled on the dress, and smoothed the material down my thighs. Sully wouldn’t mind how short it was. He liked other men looking at me. My chest burst with pride.
Who knew I would enjoy being the forbidden apple? How could a man who was happy to show me off so much still be possessive? But I liked that he was. As unhealthy as it had the potential to be, it showed me he cared, and I wasn’t used to having a lot of that.
I plugged in my curling iron and started on my hair. A phone rang in the room once and stopped. Sully’s phone? He couldn’t have gone far if he’d left it.
I ran the curling iron through a lock of hair at the front to get the fall just perfect. Now to add some mousse and—
Sully’s phone rang again.
Where the hell was he?
I frowned. Something about that call pattern… Shit, it was Sully’s mother. I’d heard the pattern enough to recognize it.
“Sully?” I called but got no answer.
I put down the curling iron and walked over to the night table, where Sully’s phone vibrated and rang. The unknown number on the screen further confirmed my hunch.
What the hell should I do? He couldn’t miss a call from his mother. What if something had happened? It wasn’t as if Sully could call her back. She called him from burner phones. Did he even have her regular number?
Decision made, I answered the call. “Hello.”
Someone breathed into my ear, but otherwise it was quiet. Shit. Shit. Sully had a code. What was it he always said?
“Umm, Jim’s Flower Shop.” It was Jim, wasn’t it?
Tensed silence filled my ear.
“Who are you?” a woman’s sharp voice said. “What have you done to him? I want to speak to him right now. Do you understand me?”
Fuck. Maybe I should have let the call go to voicemail. Why had I interfered?
“I, uh, you don’t know who I am,” I said in a rush. “But I know who you are. I mean, Sully’s told me everything about you.”
“Please don’t hurt my son. I’ve already lost one child. Whatever you want—”
“No, no, you got the wrong impression.” Remember never to answer a hitman’s phone ever again. I was definitely compiling these as notes for a Hitman’s Guide to Having a Secret Lover. “I’m his boyfriend. I love him. I’d never do anything to hurt him.”
“You’re his boyfriend? You love him?”
“Yes.” My cheeks burned. Well, this was a first. The first time I was having a conversation with the mother of a boy I liked. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have picked up his phone, but he worries about you so much and I didn’t want to risk it being important.”
“You’re the boy Yulia told me about?” she asked.
“Umm, maybe?”
“She told me Milo was in love with another man, but I wasn’t sure if I should believe her or whether my youngest was just playing tricks on me.”
Milo.