Page 15 of Stolen By the Hit Man

Chapter Fifteen

Jasmyn

My body is still humming as I lie back in the deep-soak tub, surrounded by velvety bubbles.

Humming from the orgasms, yes. But also…that other thing.

He said, “In case you didn’t know, you’re my girl now.”

Am I going to allow this? Ha.

That’s cute. I don’t think I could shake Joaquin even if I wanted to. He’d follow me for the rest of my days.

The thought of being relentlessly pursued shouldn’t be so appealing. And yet, the thrill is real.

But what happens when the thrill burns out? Would he be happy as a regular guy with a regular job? Would I be satisfied with him? Would I end up being essentially the same as a mob girlfriend? Just pretending I don’t know about the blood that was spilled to pay the mortgage?

My toes peek out from the mountain of iridescent bubbles, and I watch the suds slither down the front of my foot.

The bath scents the room with a blend of grapefruit and honey.

The scent of chocolate and brown sugar is also present, curiously.

I pick up the glass bottle that sits on the edge of the tub.

This is a $78 bottle of imported bubble bath imported from England.

And those plush towels are $100 a pop. This is all a far cry from the dingy, run-down office in town.

Who am I kidding? The man low-key likes his luxuries, and I am in the business of it. He literally owns one of my chairs. That fabric sold so fast, I don’t even own one of those chairs.

We seem like a perfect match, if I believe in magical thinking.

But do I believe in that sort of thing?

As self-determined as I am, I don’t think I’ve ever explored that part of me. The first half of my life, I was just trying not to drown. The last decade has been about building my business. That’s it.

And now I literally might drown as I let my eyes close and surrender to exhaustion.

Just for a little bit. This tub is so surprisingly comfortable, and the little neck pillow is in just the right spot.

I could probably fall asleep outside in a thunderstorm at this point, I’m so tired from all the day’s events.

Sometime later, there’s a soft knock on the bathroom door. I open my eyes and tell him he can come in. It’s nice that he thought it proper to knock even after…well, everything we just did together. I like that.

The bubbles have disappeared, and my top half is rather exposed, but I don’t mind so much.

Joaquin pushes the door open, and I swoon at the look on his face—partly a gleam of mischief and partly hopeful. The chocolate and sugar scent overpowers the fruitiness of the bath, and I realize it's coming from the kitchen.

“What are you up to?”

My gaze travels over the lightly fuzzy landscape of Joaquin’s hard chest. He lumbers over and sits on the ledge next to me.

“Just a little baking. I found a brownie mix in the pantry.”

“Brownies? How long have I been in the tub?” I ask, sitting up and noticing my pickled fingers.

“Long enough to make me miss you,” he says.

“Oh my god,” I laugh. “Get out of here. You’re so corny.”

I’m embarrassed that I’ve been in the tub for so long while he’s been in the kitchen, baking. Multiple orgasms, a spa treatment, and fresh brownies? Is he human?

He moves out of the way and hands me a robe. Again, Joaquin’s eyes ever so politely glance away while I’m exposed, and I appreciate that.

When I’m safely wrapped in the robe, he turns back to me, and for the first time since we arrived at the cabin, I notice a darkness in his eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

“I shouldn’t have let you be the one to pull the trigger. It should have been me,” he says.

I’m taken aback by this.

“No one should have had to pull any trigger, but they hurt me. I’ve never been into revenge before, but I have to admit, I kind of liked it.”

A starkness I’ve never noticed before settles on his face. “Don’t say that. Don’t even let yourself feel that, okay?” His throat bobs with the depth of his emotions.

I lean away from him a little. “I can’t help the way I feel. I didn’t wish him dead, but I’m not going to lie and say he didn’t deserve it, after all the nastiness he and his…family…or whatever they are, put me through.”

Joaquin scrubs a hand over his face in frustration. Is he frustrated with me? Is he regretting getting involved in my problems? Maybe I’m causing too much angst. Maybe we should change the subject. Or maybe now that I’m better…

I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it.

“Listen,” he says, taking my hand in his.

“I’ve spent my whole life doling out vengeance.

I chose violence against bad people because I thought that would make the pain of losing my parents go away.

But it never satisfied. And I’m never going to be the good person that Grady meant me to be.

I came to terms with that a long time ago.

It took me until today to realize that I’ll never truly get my revenge on the people who hurt me. ”

I swallow and quietly say, “I can’t imagine how that feels. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. Just promise me you won’t push away the terrible feelings when they inevitably come. You watched people die today, and that’s going to change you.”

What else can one say with such a person looking at you like that? His worry is genuine. “I promise,” I say, though I don’t feel it.

Joaquin leans in and presses his lips to mine. His kiss is full of longing, and it almost feels like a kiss goodbye.

Suddenly, the sound of electronic pinging echoes in the room.

He pulls away from the kiss and lets out a curse. “Shit. I’m sorry, but…”

“No one knows we’re here, right?” I pull the robe tighter.

Joaquin’s eyes scan his phone screen. A relieved smile softens his hard features, followed by consternation.

He mashes a button on the screen and mutters, “What the hell does that old man think he’s doing?” He stands up and stalks to the door.

“Old man?” I ask.

He turns and says, “It’s Grady. He’s here. And I might have to kill him.”

Joaquin leaves with no further word, but it feels wrong to lounge around in a bathrobe. And so I look for something to wear.

“You’re in over your head this time, Joaquin.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

While managing to stay in the shadows of the living room, I peek around the corner and down the hall. The kitchen light is on, and the scent of baked brownies is now overlaid with fresh brewing coffee.

“Do you? Because whatever happened out there at that compound has thrown this whole sleepy little town into chaos.”

“It’s been like that for years. Ever since they set up shop in Darling Creek, things have been weird. But you wouldn’t know what it was like because you’ve never visited.”

“You know why I’ve never visited you here,” says the older man. “And planes and roads work both ways, you know.”

The very expensive-looking coffee machine makes a gentle humming sound as the hot liquid begins to fill the waiting pot.

“And you are equally aware why I can’t come to see you. I don’t need my enemies making a list of people I care about.”

A heavy sigh from the older man is followed by the scrape of a kitchen chair on the tile.

Although the two men are having some kind of disagreement, the long history and genuine love and concern is evident in the tones they use with each other.

“It’s time for you to be honest with yourself. You can’t continue down this road. Whatever this career is, it’s killing your soul, Joaquin.”

Joaquin scoffs and mutters, “Soul.” He pours coffee into a waiting mug and hands it to Grady.

“Fine,” says Grady. “Let’s not go down that philosophical road. The fact is, this revenge mindset won’t bring your parents back. And it’s not honoring the dead.”

“But it makes the world safer for the living.”

“Not safer for your family. For the people you push away.”

Joaquin takes a seat across the table from Grady and folds his hands on the table. I watch in wonder as he seems to take on the posture of a nine-year-old kid. His feet fidget under the table, and he shifts in the chair, as if trying and failing to get comfortable.

“Are you hearing me, son?”

I don’t know Grady, but he has the kind of firm but gentle energy I would never push away. If choosing a father or grandfather were a thing, I’d choose Grady, based on eavesdropping on this conversation alone.

“He hasn’t pushed me away,” I say before I can stop myself.

And suddenly I’m standing at the entrance to the kitchen, unable to keep myself out of this conversation. And away from the plate of brownies that neither of these men has touched.

Both men have turned toward me. Grady with a surprised look on his face and Joaquin…something else.

My lover’s eyes rake over my bare legs, taking in the fact that I’m wearing one of his hoodies I found in the closet, along with a pair of drawstring shorts that I’ve had to cinch up so much that the strings hang down past the middle of my thighs.

But there’s more to the expression than just approval of the way I look in his clothes.

It’s an expression that says he’s been expecting me, and now that I’m here, something that went wrong has been set right. Something empty has been filled.

It’s love.

Plain and simple.

Even if I don’t want to admit it. Even if that’s crazy after having known him for a day.

“Well, hello there!” Grady turns to Joaquin. “You didn’t tell me you had company.”

Joaquin makes a move toward me, but I sidestep him and reach out to Grady. “I’m Jasmyn. And before you ask, yes, I was eavesdropping. But mostly I want a brownie.

Grady’s craggy face breaks into a warm smile, and he sandwiches my hand in both of his. “Nice to meet you. I’m Grady. Joaquin’s…adopted…dad.”

The pause before “dad” is telling, as is the way he cuts his eyes toward Joaquin.

Joaquin turns to me with a sly grin and uses his foot to push out a third chair, indicating he wants me to sit next to him. “Grady is super paranoid about erasing the memory of my biological parents. But he’s just my dad. No qualifiers necessary.”

The older man lets go of my hand and arches an eyebrow at Joaquin. “Why don’t you just let me be me, kid?” Grady says with a smile that tells me this is a frequent topic of conversation between them, and neither of them is going to budge. But not in a way that gets either of them too riled up.

“Why don’t you just take credit for being in my life longer than any other adult?” Joaquin retorts. I slide into the offered seat, and his arm naturally curls around my shoulders.

I pick up a brownie and take a bite.

Grady smiles with cautious approval.

I see what this mild argument is between them. A comforting reminder of who they are to each other. A set point. A baseline.

It turns out I know how to read people after all. Too bad I temporarily lost that ability when my memory went away. I could have screamed bloody murder at the first red flag and avoided this whole wild adventure.

I’d be in Tampa, living my best life. Running my company. Telling and re-telling the story about how I almost got kidnapped by polygamists in Darling Creek, Montana.

I smile at Grady when he turns back to me. “I hope he doesn’t boss you around the way he does to me,” Grady says.

“He does, and it’s very annoying,” I say rudely through a mouthful of brownie.

Both men burst out laughing.

“He hasn’t chased you off with that attitude yet? I’m impressed.”

No one asked, but Joaquin answers the question that’s all over Grady’s face by leaning in and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“Jasmyn’s been my girlfriend for less than a day. So there’s plenty of time for her to see sense and make a run for it.”

Girlfriend.

He called me his girlfriend.

He just said “my girl” before.

Which one means more? One is just pillow talk, but this is a proclamation. To his father, no less.

I look up and catch Joaquin’s gaze.

Yes. This is what I want.

I want someone to look at me like that every day for the rest of my life. I never knew I wanted it, but now I need it as much as I need water and air.

At some point, I will have to go back to Tampa. To my employees, to my art, to my whole life.

And we’ll have to figure out how to mesh the two.

That problem has a solution. But we don’t need to figure it out now.

Joaquin turns back to Grady. “Did you come all this way to set me back on the straight and narrow? To discuss my poor choices with me? Because I have it handled,” he says.

The older man rubs his hands together and gets serious. “Jefferson?—”

Joaquin cuts him off. “Let me guess. Jefferson freaked out and ran to you and said I’m in trouble, rather than let me handle things."

Grady levels a truly fatherly gaze at Joaquin. “If you’ll let me finish…” he says sternly.

Here it comes.

We have much bigger things to deal with than facing the consequences of a long-distance relationship. We’re about to find out the real reason for Grady’s visit.