A Killer's Heart Read online

  "Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I’d think you’d know more than I do. Who hired you?" When he tells me, I shake my head, but then it clicks. "As in Max Donald?"

  "Yes, his father, Ernest. He’s the head of the family."

  "What are you talking about? Max is in finance, a banker or something like that."

  He growls as he points as my stomach, saying, “I guess that’s Max’s son or daughter.”

  I immediately correct him. "This baby is mine. Max is merely the sperm donor. Again, why would they be after me?”

  "Max’s family runs the biggest drug enterprise in France. They’re also one of the biggest players in the world." My mouth falls open in shock and I immediately tell him that I had no clue.

  "I went on three dates with the guy. The last ending up being a nightmare."

  His jaw tightens so much it’s a wonder his teeth haven’t cracked. "He fucking raped you?"

  "No. Yes," I respond, honestly unsure of the answer. "I was drunk and he turned aggressive. I didn’t think I could say no. Or I did and he didn’t listen.” That night is all a blur now.

  "Then yes, he did. Just that one time?" I explain that he’d scared me, so I broke it off the next day and eventually moved.

  "I wanted nothing to do with him. It wasn't until later that I found out I was pregnant."

  "They must know you are. The hierarchy is very serious to them. An unplanned baby would not factor into that, especially when Max is set to marry into another crime family. They would that union to bring a first born from Max.”

  "I feel like an idiot. How did I not know any of this?"

  "You're a good girl,” he whispers. And the statement oddly makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

  "So, what do we do?"

  "Lay low. I’ll keep you both safe." I ask for how long, reminding him of my due date that’s getting closer every day. “Until I kill everyone that dares to come after you.” That was said without hesitation. And while his murderous expression should terrify me, it doesn’t. Instead, I feel protected as I stare in his eyes. I swear I can see into his soul, the turmoil and layers of his personality he hides. I nod, wanting him to know I trust him. Now, the reaction my heart is having is something I’ll have to think about more later as I’ve never experienced it.

  "Would it be possible to gather some things from my house?"

  "It’ll have to be quick. I want to leave Cape Town right away."

  “Okay,” I agree, trusting my life to this stranger whose name I don’t know. That makes me giggle. When he wants to know why, I explain.

  "Smith."

  "That can't be your real name."

  "It's the only one I remember." Well, that’s cryptic. I want to ask more, but he rises, holds out his hand, and commands, "Let's get going."

  I grasp it on instinct, then smile and say, "I'm in your care now."

  "Yes. You’re mine now." Something tells me we’re talking about two different things.

  Chapter 4

  Smith

  Poppy is stubborn, a fact I learned the hard way when I stressed that she couldn’t bring everything she owned with us. I told her one bag, that’s it. Of course, she ignored it each time I mentioned it, a slight that’s cost someone their life in the past. She, however, is different. The woman doesn’t know it yet, but she owns me. I’d do whatever she asked of me.

  Finally, having convinced her to pack only the essentials, we head to the airport, fake IDs in hand. Shortly after we’re settled in first class, the plane takes off for Italy. Enzo has been helpful in the past, and I’m hoping he can be again. Poppy, having taken the window seat, leans close and whispers, “How did we get by without using our real names?” I swear, despite the situation, her voice travels straight to my dick, getting a rise out of it. Literally.

  "I know people," I mutter just as quietly. She rolls her eyes at my answer, then resumes reading her magazine geared toward parents. That has me glancing at her belly, today’s outfit displaying the slight bump. My solution isn’t an easy one as sorting out this bullshit with the Donalds will take time, but us being on the move will buy us some. Not to mention, a chance to uncover leverage to use against them. Speaking of the baby, he or she needs protected just as much as she does. She hasn’t spoken much about her pregnancy, though the circumstances behind it might be why. Yet I find myself wanting to be a part of it with her, to experience the changes as she goes through them. And I have no fucking idea how to make that happen. Trying to make small talk, which I’ve never done in my life, “Do you know what your having?”

  Poppy gives me a sad smile, admitting, “No. I’m due for an ultrasound, though.” I make a mental note to set up an appointment for her as soon as we land, then question if she wants to know or has a preference. “As long as they’re healthy, that’s all that matters. I honestly haven’t thought much about it beyond that. The whole thing was a shock. I’d never pictured myself as a single mother.” Her hand rests gently on her stomach at that, and out of instinct, I place mine on top of hers. I immediately start to raise it, realizing I’m touching her without permission, but she stops me. “Can you feel it kicking?”

  Wanting to, I concentrate, but I’m not sure if I do or it’s just simply my pulse. Either way, just the thought of it is a miracle, the concept of creating a life blows me away. Not that anyone knows that about me. “How you doing?” She tells me she’s fine at the moment. Regrettably, I remove my touch from her, feeling the loss immediately, and tell her she’ll be better once we land.

  "Is it smart to be so close to Max and his family? Italy and France aren’t that far apart."

  “We will be under Enzo’z protection, you can trust him.” That eases her worry a bit, causing her to lay her head on my shoulder. She’s so tiny, as is her baby bump. These facts, along with other things where she’s concerned, have me feeling possessive of both of them. When I realize she’s fallen asleep, I softly set my hand once more on her belly. It’s as innocent as she is, and I’ll protect them with my life.

  "This is amazing," Poppy declares as she spins around the penthouse of the luxury hotel. I don't usually go big like this, needing to keep a low-profile at all times, but she deserves this and so much more. I do, however, remind her it’s only until Enzo has a secure location for us to move to. When she walks toward the balcony, I stop her as her hand touches the knob to open them.

  "It's not safe, Poppy." Our mouths are inches apart when she turns her head to look at me, giving me the almost overwhelming urge to kiss her. Instead, I fight it, not wanting to risk taking advantage of the situation, though I swear she seems disappointed when I don’t follow through on it. Playing it off, I grab the menu from the table and pass it to her, telling her to order whatever she wants.

  "That's a dangerous thing to say to a pregnant woman," she teases with an infectious smile. She’s like this bright light to the darkness that’s always surrounded me.

  Stepping out to call Enzo, he answers right away, stating, “Smith. I assume you’ve landed.” I appreciate that he gets straight to business.

  "Not too long ago,” I inform him. “How's the safe house coming? I'm eager to get Poppy there."

  "It’ll be ready tomorrow,” he vows. “I have to ask,” he begins a few minutes later, “but this feels different. Personal."

  "Because it fucking I," I snap. It wasn’t when I’d initially taken the job, but it became so much more after that. "She's mine."

  He’s laughing as she wants to know, "Gone just like all your American gangster friends?" I don’t deny it, I can’t. He’s right. Getting back on topic, I ask where we’re meeting. “I’ll text you the address.” I thank him, then hang up, taking a deep breath to sort through everything. My heart and head are at odds. Figuring cold water might help, I empty my pockets, remove my jacket, shirt, and belt, then undo the top button on my jeans. There’s a light knock followed by Poppy poking her head in the bedroom.

  I have the urge to cover my body, not wanting her to see all the scar
s, but it’s too late. “Smith? What happened to you? Is this all because of your job?” When her eyes meet mine, they’re filled with tears as she takes in the burns, bullet and stab wounds, and so on.

  "Most are,” I admit. “The others are due to the life I’ve had." Her fingers roam my chest and arm, the tips inspecting each mark. I barely contain the groan it causes and will my cock to settle down, but I’ve never been touched like this.

  "I'm so sorry," she says softly before pressing a kiss to a spot near my heart. Gripping her shoulder, I push her back, hating the hurt on her face from it yet knowing it I didn’t stop her, I’d fuck her here and now. I gruffly demand she order her food while I take a shower. After stomping toward the bathroom, knowing full well I’m acting like a child, I slam the door shut. I’m so pissed at myself. What the hell is wrong with me? A better question is, How will I survive having her so close without losing my mind?

  Chapter 5

  Poppy

  Since meeting Smith, I feel like I’ve entered a whole new world. Traveling first class, luxury hotels, and now we’re staying in a beautiful historical villa. I can’t believe this is the place that’s acting as a safe house courtesy of Enzo, a tall Italian man that seems happy to help Smith. It may be considered small as it only has two bedrooms, but the view it provides is stunning. Turning back to Smith, I watch as he and Enzo shake hands, and sends me a nod my way before leaving. My companion secures the heavy wooden door behind him, then rests his hand on it as he stands there. He’s been distant since the hotel, and I wonder if the intimacy of our situation is bothering him. I know it’s impacting me. I never expected to feel this way about anyone, let alone an assassin that kidnapped and didn’t kill me. I could try and blame it on the hormones running through me, but I know it’s more than that.

  Wanting to get off my feet, I take a seat on the couch and prop them up on the table. "What now?" I mutter, latching on to any reason to get him to talk to me. The forced isolation and his cold behaviour are getting to me.

  Surprisingly, he sits next to me, “Enzo was able to arrange an appointment for later today with a private doctor.”

  “Thank you” I’m touched by his thoughtfulness and that he followed through on doing what he’d said. Resting my hand on my belly, I think back on the last few months. Without planning, a question that’s been on my mind since discovering I was pregnant pops out of me, though I don’t regret it. "Do you think the father can define a child?" I lean against him, feeling him take a deep breath as he instantly wraps his arm around me.

  "No," he answers confidently. "At least, not always,” then he shrugs, admitting, “I've never met either of my parents."

  "Never? Not even when you were little?"

  He's silent for a long moment before he responds. "Sometimes I have dreams of a faceless woman holding marigolds, but that's it. I assume it’s my mother." Finding that incredibly sad, my heart hurts for him when I want to know what happened to him then. “I was raised in a group home for boys. We were all orphans. The leaders didn’t raise us, though. We were trained to be soldiers for some off-branch military program.”

  "Did any of them act as a parental figure?”

  "Not at all,” he says softly. “Not wanting to be a part of it, and fed up with the many levels of abuse heaped on us, I escaped. Found shelter with a few low-level gangs, some crime families. I did what I had to in order to stay alive. So, here I am.” I’m on the verge of tears after hearing what he endured when he looks at me.

  "Is this what you wanted to do?"

  "I never wanted to be a monster."

  "You’re not one," I tell him as I kiss his cheek, I feel the warmth under my lips. "You saved my life, didn't you?" Grabbing his hand, I place his palm on my stomach and remind him, “And this one too. And I’m sure we aren’t the only people you’ve helped.” Not wanting to push any harder after such a personal conversation, I change the subject and we go on about our day. I spend it reading and making lunch while Smith is glued to his laptop, keeping an eye on the black sites, as he called them, for my name to appear as a hit.

  A few hours later, we leave to head to my appointment, and I can’t help but feel sorry for myself during the ride. There’s no doubt I’m in a bad situation, yet what troubles me most, what I’m ashamed of, is my lack of excitement for the baby. I should be thrilled, eager to meet him or her and start this new journey, but i’m not. The thought brings me to tears.

  "Why are you crying?" Smith wants to know, his finger reaching out to swipe away the tears.”

  “I’m already a horrible mother," I cry, unable to contain my sobs now. I don’t even realize he’s stopped until he steps out and comes to my side. He opens the door and unbuckles my seatbelt, then pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head.

  “You are not,” he reassures me. “It’s impossible for you to be so.”

  "But I am,” I correct him. “I don't care if it's a boy or girl nor do I have any names chosen."

  "I bet every mom feels this way at some point." I sniff, accusing him of lying, just telling me that to make me feel better. “I never lie, Poppy. I always mean what I say.” His gray eyes are full of compassion and sincerity as I stare at them. His lips brush against each of my wet cheeks and I take a shuddery breath, trying to get my emotions under control. “How about we go inside and get a look at this little guy?”

  "Or girl," I remind him, making both of us smile. As we walk in, a bit of the worry has left me, my steps a bit lighter. Normally, there’d be paperwork to take care of, except Smith doesn’t want to leave a paper trail, so we bypassed that somehow. The only person we come across is a nurse who then shows us to a room. I remove my shoes and Smith assists me as I get on the bed. I lift my shirt enough to expose my belly as he sits in the chair next to me. Not long after that, the doctor enters and introduces herself.

  "How are you feeling, Mrs. Smith?" She asks with a smile as she sets up the equipment. A glance at Smith has me seeing that he wants to my play along with the charade, so I do.

  "I'm well. Thank you."

  "Eager to see your baby?" She asks Smith.

  "Very," he answers without hesitation, warming my heart. He grabs my hand as she puts gel on my belly and starts the machine. As soon as the image shows on the screen, it takes my breath away. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen it, but it’s different now. My beautiful, tiny baby. Smith’s eyes are glued to the picture, never leaving them even as she finishes the procedure and I begin cleaning my bump.

  "Everything looks great. I have no concerns at this time. Would you like to know the gender?" I honestly don’t know if I do, but Smith tells her yes a second after she asks. My gaze shoots to him, but his is still staring at the screen.

  “Yes please Doctor.”

  She smiles wide. “It’s a girl.”

  My throat clogs with happiness at the news as Smith repeats what she said, his voice filled with the same awe I’m feeling. Knowing he’s happy warms my heart. Suddenly i’m filled with excitement I hoped to have.

  Once we’re done with everything, we return to the villa, discussing baby names on the way, laughing as we each try to outdo the other with silly suggestions. It doesn’t stop when we arrive, and the hours fly by as we talk, joke around, and make a list of the items I’ll need. Following dinner, we stand side by side and wash the dishes together.

  "Can I ask you something?"

  That moment makes him chuckle. “You’ve gotten more out of me than anyone else on the planet.”

  I like knowing that. A lot. "Why are you so excited about the baby?” He falls silent for so long I don’t think he’ll answer as he puts the plate he was drying down as turns to face me. However, instead of speaking, he brings me against his chest and kisses me. My arms wrap around him, his strong body perfection as it cradles mine. I moan as his tongue enters my mouth. I’ve never experienced something like this. It consumes me. He scoops me up and sets me on the counter, stepping between my legs without stopping the ass
ault on my mouth. I swear I’ve never been kissed like this before, so full of love and passion. I never wanted it to end. Then Smith’s phone rings, ruining the moment. He starts to pull away, but I cling to him, my legs circling his waist to keep him in place. “Ignore it,” I implore him.

  He wants to, I can tell, but he gives me a hard kiss and evades my hold. “If they’re calling this number, it’s important. I have to get it.” My growl of frustration clearly amuses him, but the second he answers, the Smith I’ve come to know disappears and the deadly man he’s known to be clicks in place.

  I wait patiently, or try to at least, for him to finish, and when he does, he doesn’t say anything. He helps me down from the counter and I place my hands on his chest once I’m on my feet. “What?” Smith’s expression is grim as he sets his hand on my shoulder and squeezes.

  "They not only know you’re aren’t dead, but also that we’re no longer in Cape Town. Fortunately, they don’t know where we actually are."

  I sigh, though he’d warned me this would happen, and mutter, "So, it begins."

  "You don't need to worry about a thing," he reminds me as he gives me a hug. The weird thing is, I’m not. Not any longer. I know he’ll keep me and my daughter safe.

  Chapter 6

  Smith

  Using binoculars, I scope out every possible vantage point a sniper could use around the property. As it has been for weeks, it’s clear, yet I’m uneasy. When I learned they knew Poppy was still alive, added with me not getting in contact with me, I figured they’d put two and two together. I’m sure they have, especially as their operation could be at stake when this baby grows up. Bastard or not in their eyes, they’d have a rightful claim and could use that against them and their orginization. Not that I’d allow that to happen. I’ll be damned if I let my child have any connection to that darkness.