Hit Man: A Bad Boy Romance (Hunted, Book One) Read Online Free

were chattering; shock, I supposed. She squeezed her eyes closed and nestled her head into the crook of my neck.
    Dear Lord in Heaven. I tried not to let my body respond as I hurried down the first flight, past the body, and down the second. It was two flights later that I jostled her slightly in my arms. I needed to think, and having her pressed against me like this was doing things to my mind.
    “Can you walk?”
    “Yes.” Her whisper slid over the skin of my neck, and I set her down more hastily than I should have.
    “Good. Run. ”
    We took the stairs as fast as we could. Twenty flights to go, and she had her jaw set with determination.
    Eighteen, and I saw her wince every time she put her foot down. She had no shoes, I remembered.
    Fifteen, and she was looking over her shoulder. I squeezed her hand and shook my head warningly. She needed not to look back. She needed to run.
    God, this was the stupidest thing I had ever done.
    Ten flights, and her breath was coming harsh. Adrenaline had given way to shock, and she was trying to keep herself upright, but the cocktail of drugs did a number on those who weren’t used to it.
    Five flights, and I heard the door slam open upstairs.
    “Tom? Tom?”
    Oh God . Her lips moved but she made no sound.
    No time for subtlety anymore. I pulled her as fast as I could, down the stairs, slamming my way out into the night.
    An engine revved softly nearby, and I smiled coldly. The getaway car. Thank God.
    “Wait.” I left her around the corner and yanked the passenger door of the SUV open. One shot, and the driver slumped in his seat. I pulled him out. “Lara?”
    “Here.”
    “Get in.” I hauled her inside. “And wear your seatbelt.”
    “Where are we—what did you—”
    “No questions.” My voice was hard as I backed up and peeled out of the parking garage. “You, duck. And don’t talk—I need to think.”

Chapter 4
Lara
    T he man slammed down on the accelerator and I rocked back in my seat. I wrapped my arms around my knees, shaking. I was going to throw up and I couldn’t do that. I was going to ruin his coat if I threw up.
    The absurdity of it hit me the next minute and I started to laugh. I saw him jerk his head over at me, those beautiful eyes narrowing before his jaw set and he looked over to the road again. I knew he didn’t want me to be laughing, but I couldn’t have stopped for anything. I wasn’t stupid, I knew he had just killed two people who were after me for some reason I couldn’t guess. He had just…killed them. Like it was nothing.
    For you , something inside me whispered, and that, at last, stopped the laughing. I found myself staring at him, my lips parted, my eyes tracing over the line of his jaw, the curve of his full lips, the bump of his nose.
    “What?”
    “What?”
    “Why are you looking at me?” His voice was harsh, and I jerked back, caught out.
    “I—wasn’t—” I shook my head. “You saved my life.”
    He cursed under his breath.
    “Thank you?” I offered.
    That didn’t seem to make it better. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel and he swallowed before blowing his breath out. “I need you to get in the back.”
    “What?”
    “I need someone to tell me if we’re being followed.” He jerked his head. “Get in the back, and tell me about anyone who’s driving oddly.”
    “This is New York,” I muttered. “What does driving oddly even mean here?” But I complied, and I had the chance to see a shadow of a grin as I did.
    It made my chest feel warm, that smile—and knowing I’d prompted it. I stared at the back of his head for a moment, trying to come up with another joke, and then realized how stupid that was. I settled myself on the back see, hiding my head behind the headrest as I peeked out.
    “Where’d you learn to do that?”
    I looked around. He was watching me in the rearview mirror. I shrugged.
    “I just thought…it would probably be good.”
    “It’s smart.” He sounded like he approved.