Page 10 of The Hitman

Chapter Seven

Callie

I t’s Waffle Wednesday, which means all day long, Leo and I get our hands dirty in the kitchen, concocting different waffle-themed meals.

This morning, we made log cabins for breakfast. Lunch consisted of battleships with blueberries for pegs, and now we’re putting the final touches on our waffle pizzas for dinner.

Any minute now, Jaxon will walk through the door. He’ll shake his head at our newest creation because he likes to pretend he doesn’t love my homemade waffles, even though he’s not fooling anyone.

He always sneaks a second helping.

The clock on the stove turns to 9:05 p.m. He hasn’t been this late coming home since the night we almost kissed, but I distract myself from worrying by smearing cream cheese frosting on the waffle I’m making for him.

I decorate it with a smiley face made out of fruit in the hopes of getting that look .

The one where he cocks a brow as if to say, Seriously, Callie?

I’ll cross my arms and he’ll give me a sexy smirk while I wait for him to take a bite. My insides will flutter like mad, and then we’ll pretend like Leo isn’t secretly watching, grinning from ear to ear.

Same song and dance every single week.

I smile to myself before checking the clock again and adding a ridiculous amount of whipped cream to the smiley’s cheeks.

I really love Wednesdays.

Leo’s picking at his M & M pepperonis, his chin resting on his fist, when I place Jaxon’s plate beside him on the bar. He prods the soggy squares in his waffle with the tip of his fork.

“What’s wrong, buddy?”

He lifts a shoulder. “Just wishing my mom was here.”

My heart cracks around the edges.

It’s obvious how much Jaxon cares for his nephew, even when he thinks he’s failing him. He’s doing his best, but I think what Leo needs right now is to feel connected to his mother—and I just might know how to help.

“I know how much you miss her. I lost my granny when I was twelve.” He peers up with red-rimmed eyes, quiet, but listening intently.

“It was rough, especially since she was like a mother to me. She loved to bake, and baking always made me feel like she was right there beside me. Maybe we could do something like that to help you feel close to your mom right now?”

“I dunno…” he says. “Mom isn’t much of a baker. She always burns stuff ‘cause she forgets to set a timer.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Tell me what she likes to do, then. Something that she does that makes you laugh, and we’ll recreate that moment so she knows you’re thinking of her.”

He pauses, considering this a moment before the start of a smile tugs the corner of his mouth. “She loves dancing and singing.”

“Perfect!” He giggles when I shimmy. “What’s her favorite song?”

“I think it’s by the Bees Geese.”

I snort. “Do you mean The Bee Gees? ”

“Yeah! That one.”

I connect my phone to the sound system in the living room, and turn back to him. “Got it. Let’s see if we can find the one she likes.”

We cycle through a few of their popular hits before landing on ‘More Than a Woman.’

“All right, let’s do this.” I extend my hand to his, wiggling my fingers until he caves and takes it.

I crank up the volume, twirling him around the living room. We pass the priceless artifacts littering every shelf, and when we reach the koi pond, I pick him up and place him on the edge, giving him center stage.

“Take it away, Leo!”

And he does. He shakes his hips, copying the disco moves I showed him while belting into his fake microphone.

His cheeks are pinched with so much joy my heart nearly bursts from my chest. There’s not a doubt in my mind that Isabella, wherever she may be, can feel her little boy’s love.

I hear the front door open, and I spin toward Jaxon, excited to drag him into our fun. Tonight, we’re going to dance and laugh to our heart’s content and pretend like everything in our little world is just right for a few precious moments.

“Callie… Who is that?” Leo’s voice trembles behind me.

I freeze mid-turn, my smile dropping when I see a strange man standing in the doorway.

He’s older, fit in a lethal way, and gigantic. His slicked-back silver hair and sharp jawline might’ve been charming once, but there’s nothing warm in his presence. He’s wearing a tailored black jacket, black gloves, and when his lips twist into a grin, my blood runs cold.

“You must be the nanny,” he says, his voice smooth and accented.

My stomach twists.

“Leo,” I whisper carefully, not taking my attention off the intruder. “Go into the pantry.”

“But—”

“ Now. ”

Thankfully, he doesn’t argue, and when I hear the soft patter of his feet and the click of the pantry door sealing shut behind him, relief floods my system.

I don’t care what happens to me. I only care about keeping him safe.

“Smart,” the man says, stepping further inside, a gun gleaming in the hand at his side. “Pity it won’t matter.”

I back toward the kitchen, forcing my hands to stay visible and calm, even as my heart thunders. He follows me the way a predator tracks its prey before it strikes.

“Who are you?” I ask.

Just a few more steps to my right and I’ll be close enough to reach the hidden drawer with the gun.

“A man owed a great deal of vengeance.” Unthreatened, he glances around the room, face contorting in disgust. “Knight’s got shit taste.”

I take the opportunity to inch behind the island counter and quietly open the hidden drawer beneath the sink.

“I know, right?” My voice is breathless, shaky even.

“Funny. It’s almost too bad I have to kill you.”

The brute half-sneers, half-smirks.

“You don’t have to,” I say, carefully dipping my fingers inside the velvet case and wrapping them around the gun. “Jaxon isn’t here. You could leave and let me live. I won’t tell a soul I saw you.”

“Perhaps.” He tilts his head. “But killing an innocent like you and the boy… That would make it personal. I don’t think The Reaper would recover from that.”

Bile rises from the pit of my stomach, and as swiftly as possible, I jam the clip into the bottom of the grip until it clicks. I’m operating on pure adrenaline, trembling like a newborn baby deer as I aim the gun at him—but the sliding mechanism on the barrel won’t close.

He laughs, boisterous and mocking, as I frown. “Okay, that looked a lot easier in the movies.”

“Silly girl. You don’t even know how to use that.”

I bat at the barrel in a panic. Every second I waste feels like my last until my finger slips over a button by the trigger and the mechanism locks in place.

I laugh in disbelief, rolling my shoulders back with pride before I point it at him again.

He’s no longer laughing.

“Go on,” he says, deathly serious. “Pull the trigger.”

My finger hovers over it as I look toward Leo, peeking at me through the slit of the pantry door. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. My body is frozen in place, trembling with adrenaline and fear.

The man’s face turns red. His voice sharpens, startling my soul from my body when he shouts, “Do it!”

“Callie, get down!”

I hear his voice before I see him, and I don’t think, I just react.

My knees hit the granite floor with enough force to make me cry out. All at once, gunfire rings through the living space and kitchen. The glass panel of the koi pond explodes in a cascade of glittering shards and rushing water, and I hear Leo sobbing inside the pantry.

I scream, my grip tightening on the gun as Jaxon slides across the floor and wraps an arm around my waist. It misfires somewhere to our right as he quickly tucks us behind the island.

Bile rises in my throat, but he’s up and firing before I have time to register what’s happening.

“Where’s Leo?” Jaxon demands without looking at me.

I can’t respond. The sight of blood covering his neck, chest, and arms has me in a chokehold. Is it his, or someone else’s?

A ripple of nausea squeezes my insides painfully.

Everything becomes a blur of motion and noise. The intruder is shouting in Russian, shooting blindly across the room. Jaxon ducks, fires, shifts. His movements are fast, surgical. Lethal like he’s done this a thousand times before.

“Callie, baby. Stay with me,” he says between ducking and firing again. “Where’s Leo?”

“H-he’s in the pantry,” I manage, pointing across the kitchen with a shaky hand.

“Good.” His eyes lock on mine for a heartbeat. Steady. Safe. “You did so well. I’m proud of you, you hear me? So proud.”

I curl in on myself, clutching my stomach. “I want to throw up.”

“I know. I would’ve been here sooner if I hadn’t run into some of Volkov’s guys on my way up. But it’s almost over now. He’s hit, and he won’t last much longer.” He wipes at the mixture of sweat and blood on his forehead, giving me a pointed look. “I thought you said it took a lot to spook you?”

“Consider me fucking spooked!”

He flashes me that sexy, self-assured smile, and I can’t decide if I want to strangle him or kiss him.

When he attempts to fire again, the gun makes a hollow, clicking sound.

“Fuck, I’m out.” Without hesitating, he reaches for the one still glued to my hand. “Mind if I borrow this?”

Our fingers brush, and he winks before readying to take another shot.

“How are you so calm about this!” My voice sounds shrill and raspy, my throat dry in terror.

“Because this is what I do,” he grits, dodging granite debris that explodes from the counter. “Or did , rather. But I’m not happy that you found out like this.”

I open my mouth to question him, but as soon as Jaxon glances around the corner, a burst of crimson sprays from his arm. He falls back with a pained hiss.

“Oh my god!”

He slides down against the cabinets, and I’m right by his side, hands frantic on his body but unable to process how I can help. I cover my head, gasping when the hanging lights explode above us.

“Tell me what you need,” I pant. “I don’t know what to do.”

Jaxon groans beneath me, clutching his arm while blood seeps through his shirt and between his fingers.

“I’m fine.” He clenches his teeth, checks the thick gash streaked across his bicep, and then turns back to me. “You okay?”

He just got shot, and he’s asking me if I’m good?

I nod, even though I’m not. Not even close.

His breath shudders, but he quickly masks it. A switch flips in his gaze as if he’s been holding back this entire time, and now, he’s had enough.

After checking the clip in the gun I found, he gets ready to stand. “I want you to close your eyes and plug your ears, okay?”

“W-what? No?—”

He places a tender kiss on the back of my hand when I reach for him. “Do as I ask, Callie. Please.”

Tears pour down my cheeks, soaking my neck and chest, but I squeeze my eyes shut.

I press my fingers to my ears and hum the song my granny used to sing to me.

I hum over the sound of more glass shattering and the meaty thuds that follow.

I rock myself back and forth, switching to Isa’s favorite Bee Gees song, until the world fades and eventually, a warm hand touches my arm.

I startle, blinking my eyes open to find Jaxon, crouched before me with soft eyes and his face speckled with blood.

“It’s over,” he rasps, swiping a thumb across my wet cheek.

I don’t have time to be horrified as he helps me to my feet and then moves for the pantry door. He nearly rips it off the hinges when he cranks it open, and Leo launches into his arms with sobs wracking his little chest.

Jaxon crumples to his knees, holding his nephew to him while murmuring soft comforts into his hair. I step beside them, heart fragmenting when Jaxon reaches for me, too.

I sag to the floor, and we huddle together in the decimated kitchen, holding each other tight.

“I’ve got you,” Jaxon whispers, clutching us to his chest. “Both of you.”

And for as terrified as I am, I believe him.