Lance: A Hitman Romance (Santa Espera #2) Read Online Free Page B

was-”
    But what it was is interrupted by the sound of an approaching voice.
    “Well, well, well, our star player has decided to grace us with his presence.”
    Both Willy and I turn to see Jackson sauntering over to us. Standing two inches shorter than me and about fifty pounds lighter, Jackson is the embodiment of every wannabe high school jock who never quite got his day. His hair is cut in a crewcut and he wears a dog tag, even though I know he’s never been in the army. He walks up until he’s six inches from my face and he’s staring me right in the eye.
    “Didn’t think you worked here any more,” he says, his breath smelling of pepperoni grease and cigarette smoke. “I guess you finally remembered that this is a family, and in order to be a part of that, you gotta participate.”
    “Hello Jackson,” Willy says with a fake smile. “So nice of you to say hello.”
    Jackson glances at Willy and gets a look like he just stepped in something.
    “Shut up, Aussie. Nobody’s talking to you.”
    “Fuck off, Jackson,” I growl. “Don’t you have some puppies to kill?”
    Jackson looks back at me and grins. “I took care of that this morning,” he says. “Crushed their little heads right underneath my boot.” My upper lip curls and that just makes him smile wider. “See? You’re not so heartless after all.”
    “What do you want?” I ask.
    “I just wanted to give you a little warning while you’re here,” Jackson says to me.
    “And what warning would that be?”
    “That you’re outta here, you fucking pecker,” he spits. “Your days in this business are fucking numbered.”
    I grin. “That’s a shock. I didn’t know you ever learned how to count.”
    His smile disappears.
    “You’d better fucking watch it,” he snarls. “Because the times, they are a-changin’. And when they do I’m gonna be right here to help you punch in your retirement card.”
    Jackson takes a step back and spins around, strutting back to his precious weights. I turn my back on him and look at Willy.
    “Christ, I hate that fucking kid,” I tell him in a low voice again.
    “You and everyone else,” Willy agrees. “Except Gil, and unfortunately his is the only opinion that matters.” He levels his gaze at me. “So the job tonight. How did it go?”
    My stomach lurches again, but I keep a straight face.
    “All right,” I say. Willy raises an eyebrow.
    “All right?” he repeats. Then he shakes his head. “No it wasn’t. Tell me the truth.”
    I can’t help but smile. Willy’s the only one who can read me, even when no one else can. Even as kids I found it hard to keep secrets from him.
    “No, it wasn’t,” I agree, my voice so low now it’s almost a rumble.
    Willy nods.
    “Hey. You look like you could use a drink.”
    I nod.
    “That’s not a bad idea,” I say, so we both turn and head towards the bolted door together. But when we’re halfway there Gil’s voice calls out and stops us.
    “Hey!” he shouts, and everybody turns to look at him. “Where do you two think you’re going?”
    “We’re just grabbing a drink at the bar,” Willy says with a smile. But Gil isn’t smiling.
    “I never said you could leave,” he says. Nobody speaks, and even the pool game has stopped. Outside I’m still as a statue, but inside I’m watching for any quick movement on Gil’s part. He’s staring at us, his eyes glassy and wide. But then he bursts out into great bales of laughter and I hear nervous chuckles joining in.
    “I’m just fucking with you!” he shouts to the both of us. “Go, go! The drinks are on the house!”
    We thank him and make for the door again. The drinks are always on the house, but neither of us say anything. The metal lock is slid back and we’re let out, into the relative calm of the hallway as the door slams shut behind us.
    Willy and I give each other a look before walking down the hall and through the double doors, into the restaurant and into the noise of conversation