Page 22 of Stolen By the Hit Man

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jasmyn

Joaquin finds me on the bed.

He sees the look on my face, then sits down quietly and waits for me to talk first.

I prepare to ask questions I don’t want the answers to.

“How do you know the Wylie Gang?”

He chuckles, but then sees I’m serious.

“Come on, baby.”

“They are kidnappers and thieves, and that girl Georgie is obviously suffering from Stockholm syndrome. I don’t know what those people are up to, but I assure you it’s no good.”

“Sweetheart…”

“You said you wanted to come with me to Florida? It’ll have to be a little sooner than we planned. I can get you away from them before they get you into trouble.”

He listens patiently, his brows drawn together. When I finish, he speaks slowly.

“Jasmyn, Wylie and his friends are not a gang. They aren’t thieves or kidnappers. That’s just what they told you at the compound to scare you into staying. They preach the same thing to all the women so they’ll be less likely to run away with the ‘Wylie Gang’s’ help.”

He uses air quotes to refer to the crowd, which is still talking loudly in the kitchen.

What he says makes sense. “The posters are all over town, though.”

Nodding, he explains, “Yeah, and who do you think has been hanging those posters all over town? Do those posters look official to you at all?”

I think about this. “I guess…I don’t know.”

“Remember that the doctor said you might not be able to think clearly for a while? Especially when you’re stressed?”

“This isn’t that,” I say, while pinching the bridge of my nose to stave off the coming headache.

“Wylie’s just a rancher. Ellis is just a farmer.

They’re well respected in the community.

Barrett—well I’m not sure what his deal is, he’s kind of a loner mountain man dude.

Why would they give up the status quo just to be wanted criminals?

They are literally helping people escape.

They are good people. And Olivia, Louisa, and Goldie did not kidnap Georgie.

All those women ran away willingly. Same as you did. ”

It’s hard to think all this through. I’ve been a one-track mind since my memories returned. Focusing on recovering and putting my trust in Joaquin to have my back.

The Wylie Gang narrative seems like a stretch if these people are well-regarded in the community.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” I tell him.

“Jefferson and I have been brothers a long time, and he wouldn’t get involved with anything if it wasn’t the right thing to do. Between the two of us, we’re pretty good at digging up dirt on people. Well, except for Nelly, obviously. I dropped the ball on that one. I never thought…”

I watch the man I love go on a brief rant about how he was housing a federal agent investigating the cult, and how it was all happening right under his nose.

How he never wanted to get involved in helping Wylie and his friends and their little crusade, but then it turned out he was already helping by inadvertently giving Nelly a safe house.

He’s adorable when he rants, this love of mine.

Yep. I absolutely love him. And I could never love someone I didn’t trust.

And if I trust him, then I trust his friends.

“That church really did a number on my head. Even now that my memories are back, I’m having a hard time shaking off some of the things they made me believe.

He blinks at me, then leans forward and presses a deep, sweet kiss to my mouth.

When he breaks from the kiss, he says, “I’m going to stay and help the cause, and I promise I’ll join you when it’s all over.”

I’m not prepared for this. When it’s all over? When what’s all over? When the FBI fucks everything up and the elders decide to burn everything to the ground, and Darling Creek ends up on the news?

“That sounds extremely dangerous.”

He shakes his head. “There’s a plan. There are people on the inside…”

Joaquin goes on to explain what he knows so far, which is not a lot.

“…and I’m gonna help by finding that asshole Prophet, too. Be proud of me, I’m gonna return him to the authorities and everything.”

I nod solemnly and say, “Then I’m staying too.”

I pick up my phone and begin texting my assistant to ask her if she can keep my cats for a little bit longer.

“No, you should go home, and I’ll come to you as soon as the danger is over.”

I shake my head. “Are we a package deal or aren’t we?”

His throat bobs. “Jasmyn. It’s too dangerous for you here.”

“Please. I can shoot a gun.”

He laughs ruefully. “You sure can.”

“And nobody is telling Olivia and her friends they can’t be a part of this mission. And what about Nelly? No one is stepping in to prevent her from being at the front of this—whatever it is that’s happening—just because she’s a woman.”

“It’s not because you’re a woman. It’s because if something happens to me, you’ll be here alone. Vulnerable. A sitting duck.”

“Then my assistant will get me home. Me and the kitten. I’ll name him after you and we’ll remember you very fondly.”

He rolls his head back and laughs.

“Oh my god, I fucking love you, Jasmyn.”

“I love you too.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Of course I love you, you big dummy.”

Joaquin claims my mouth, cupping my face in his big, familiar hands. I drink in his overpowering presence, his forcefulness, the quiet determination.

His hands go to my hips, and he pulls me into his lap.

I sigh, circling my arms around him. Taking comfort in him.

I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I’m a little scared and confused about what this so-called Wylie Gang and Nelly have planned.

But in the moment, I’m happy and hopeful.

A kitten paws against my foot that rests on the floor.

I laugh against Joaquin’s mouth. “Someone’s jealous,” he murmurs.

“I don’t care,” I say. “Keep kissing me.”

“Always and forever,” he says.

“Promise me you won't get hurt.”

“I promise,” he says, kissing my throat.

“And the good guys win?”

“Of course, the good guys win.”

“And you’re a good guy?”

“Always,” he says, continuing to kiss and nibble every inch of my throat. “And forever. For you. For us.”

Always and forever.

Sounds perfect to me.