Little Deaths Read online

  Little Deaths

  A Hitman Romance

  Sophie Blackwell

  Copyright © 2020 by Sophie Blackwell

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  1. Sawyer

  2. Vanessa

  3. Sawyer

  4. Vanessa

  5. Sawyer

  6. Vanessa

  7. Sawyer

  8. Vanessa

  9. Sawyer

  10. Vanessa

  11. Sawyer

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Sawyer

  I stepped out of the shower and cleared a band of steam from the mirror. On that day, my scars seemed more prominent than ever. The tribal tattoos covering my arms and torso did little to distract from the countless raised patches of rough skin. Bullet holes, knife wounds...scratch marks. You name it, I’ve got it.

  It was time to get my head in the game, and the problem with the scars was that they brought back memories. Most of them painful. I couldn’t afford to relive those emotions. In fact, I couldn’t afford to feel anything at all.

  It could literally cost me my life.

  I splashed some cold water on my face and shook it off. No time to journey down memory lane. Castaldi would be starting his morning routine soon, and I needed to catch the bastard off guard.

  Being a hitman for the mob wasn’t the kind of thing I pictured myself doing in my late thirties, but there was no reason to retire. I had no family. No friends.

  No woman.

  Don’t get me wrong, plenty of girls had shared my bed with me (some of them at the same time), but rarely for more than one night. For whatever reason, women tended to throw themselves at me. And I guess I’ve never been the type to pass up a nice piece of ass.

  After my shower, I drank a quick cup of black coffee, got dressed, and strapped on my mini-arsenal of guns and blades. I know it’s a little cliche but I liked to wear a suit when I went out on a job. I went with Armani on that particular day. One of my favorites. It gave me all kinds of confidence.

  Not that I need any help in that department, but I could always use the edge. On top of that, I was going to take Castaldi out in his own home and I hadn’t even been able to properly case the joint.

  My bosses kind of sprung this one on me. The turf war was heating up, and they couldn’t afford to wait. Not that I cared—I don’t take sides. Except for my own.

  I checked my watch. The estate was a twenty minute drive outside of the city.

  It was time to ride or die.

  The hit itself was easy. They usually are. These assholes are so full of themselves they think they’re invincible. Also, I’m damn good at what I do. That’s why the bosses loved me. That, and my lack of attachments. There was nothing in my life that could compromise my dedication to the job.

  I was known for my commitment to having no commitments.

  I drove past Castaldi’s mansion and parked behind a nearby restaurant. It was a short walk through the trees behind the house. Within seconds, I picked the lock and entered through the kitchen. I heard the TV blaring in the living room, which sat adjacent to the pool area. The floor to ceiling windows gave him a great view of the hillside, but here he was staring at Good Morning America on his 80” TV screen.

  I crept into the room, never taking my eyes off the back of his square, bald head. Castaldi was huge (fat, not muscular) and about as charming as a cockroach. Rumor was he liked little girls. Outside of the money, I didn’t need a reason to kill him, but let’s just say that some hits are easier than others.

  He was wearing a plushy white robe and eating a pop tart when I snuck up behind him and fired a silenced bullet through the back of his skull. He never saw it coming.

  Clean. Swift. Decisive. All in a day’s work.

  That’s when things got complicated.

  Something was wrong. I could feel it. Out of instinct, I turned my head to look at the pool again.

  And that’s when I saw her.

  The sexy as hell redhead standing on the deck, water dripping off her completely nude body, eyes as big as planets.

  Eyes that were staring directly at me.

  Fuck.

  If I could have frozen time, I might have stopped to admire her delicious curves. Her full lips. Those pink nipples that dotted her perfect breasts.

  I might have admitted to myself that, even in that moment of crisis, my cock was already throbbing for this girl. Worse yet, I might have realized that deep down, I already knew I had to make her mine.

  But time waits for no one. Those thoughts flashed by in less than as second as I assessed the situation.

  Now the girl was screaming her head off, and I did what I always do with an unexpected witness.

  I took care of her.

  Chapter Two

  Vanessa

  I like to think I’m a calm person, but take it from me, you’re never sure how you’ll react watching a man take a bullet in front of you until it actually happens. And I hope for your sake that it never does.

  Blood splattered everywhere. So much blood. All over the pristine couch, the TV, and the fat man’s plush white robe.

  It happened out of nowhere. There I was, skinny dipping and minding my own business, when I thought I heard something inside the house.

  Not heard. Sensed.

  I climbed out of the pool just in time to see some dude in an Armani suit firing a gun at Castaldi.

  Then I saw the blood and I knew right away he was dead.

  That’s when Armani looked at me.

  Like, right fucking at me. His eyes were steely and cold. His broad shoulders tense as his fist gripped the gun he’d lowered to his side.

  I did the only thing any self-respecting twenty year old would do.

  I screamed my fucking head off.

  Then the guy came running onto the deck, sprinting straight toward me. Brutal determination in his eyes.

  Within seconds, his powerful arms were wrapped around me, his hand covering my mouth. I kicked and flailed as he effortlessly lifted me off the ground and dragged me inside, past the corpse on the floor, and into the closest bedroom. He tossed me on the bed and slammed the door shut behind us.

  If I could have stopped time, I might have lusted after his square jaw and perfect three day beard, his salt and pepper hair, his impeccable taste in clothing. I might have even admitted to myself that I couldn’t blame the wetness between my legs entirely on the pool water.

  But time waits for no one, and those feelings were gone before I even had a chance to process them. Because now this beast of a man was standing over me, piercing my soul with his terrifying eyes.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he growled.

  Really? The audacity of this asshole.

  Against my better judgement, I gave it right back to him. “Who the fuck am I? Who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m the guy who could, and probably should, end you. So start talking.”

  I could hardly think straight. The fact that I wasn’t even concerned yet about being buck naked in front of this maniac tells you everything you need to know about my mental state. I struggled to answer his questions, but I knew if I didn’t I’d end up just like Castaldi.

  “I don’t know what to say!” I told him, trying like hell to wrap my head around what was happening. None of this was part of the deal. How could I have been so stupid?

  “You can start by telling me who you are.”

  “I’m nobody. Seriously.”

  He stared at me h
ard. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

  “OK, OK. Sorry. I’ve never exactly been in this situation before. My name is Vanessa. I’m a college student.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Believe me, I keep asking myself the same thing.”

  “Vanessa! Answer the fucking question.”

  “OK! I’m here because...Castaldi paid me to be here.”

  “You’re a hooker?”

  “I am not a hooker, asshole. It was supposed to be a one time deal.”

  “What was? Fucking him?”

  I sighed and felt about two inches tall as I sat on the bed in front of him, dripping water on the comforter. For the first time, I felt self-conscious. I crossed my legs and folded my arms in front of my breasts. Then I decided to tell him, this homicidal stranger, the whole truth. “Yes. He paid me to fuck, OK? I needed the money.”

  “Let me guess. Tuition money?”

  “No. I have scholarships. The money wasn’t for me. It’s for my sister. She has medical bills, alright? This seemed like a quick way to get some real cash.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “I don’t. There was an ad online. He was looking for virgins. Young ones.”

  He looked at me with a peculiar expression. “Jesus Christ. How old are you, sweetheart?”

  “I’m twenty. But I told him I just turned eighteen. The virgin part was true.”

  The man lowered his head and shook it silently.

  “Hey, don’t judge me! I did what I had to do.”

  “I’m not judging you,” he said, holstering his gun. “I’m judging that fucking slimeball. How long have you been here?”

  “Since last night.”

  “Did you...?”

  “Did we fuck? No. Castaldi couldn’t get it up. He paid me to stick around so we could try again.”

  As a clock on the wall ticked away the seconds, the man opened a closet door, dug through some clothes, and tossed me a robe. I draped it over my shoulder. It felt warm and safe in the midst of all this chaos.

  “So...what now?” I asked.

  “Get dressed. And do it fast. We have to go.”

  Chapter Three

  Sawyer

  She didn’t like the idea of coming with me and I didn’t expect her to. But I didn’t care. It was for her own protection. Castaldi had a big mouth, and could have told anyone about his upcoming date with a young, hot virgin.

  That meant Vanessa was a potential suspect as well as a witness. No one, including me, benefited from this girl getting away with her life in tact.

  But that’s how it was going to be. I just needed to convince her to trust me.

  In Castaldi’s bedroom, she slipped out of the robe and hiked up the tiniest pair of panties I’d ever seen. It was hard not to ogle her, now that things had calmed down.

  “The only place I’m going is home,” she said, wrapping a plaid mini-skirt around her waist. I noticed that she skipped the bra as she tied a white button-down top over her toned stomach.

  “I’m afraid that’s not an option. At least not for a while.”

  “If you’re worried about me going to the police, you can relax. Castaldi was clearly mafia, and I have no interest in getting entangled in any kind of Scarface bullshit.”

  “That’s the point, you’re already entangled,” I said, watching her lace up a pair of Converse sneakers. Fucking hell, looking like a slutty school girl at a college Halloween party. I wanted to bend her over right then and there on Castaldi’s bed.

  “And you’re going to protect me? Is that it?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly it. The families could catch wind that someone else was here, and once that happens they’ll stop at nothing to tie up the loose ends.”

  Vanessa put her hands on her hips and cocked her head at me. “You calling me a loose end?”

  “I am. But from what you told me, tight end is more like it.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Listen, I know you have no reason to trust me.”

  “You think?! All I know about you is that you’re a killer. I don’t even know your name.”

  I have no idea what came over me. No one knew my real name. Not the bosses, not the one night stands. Nobody.

  But for some dumb fuck reason, I told her.

  “Sawyer. My name is Sawyer.”

  She stood up and took a step toward me. My knee-jerk reaction was to reach for my gun, but something about her soft eyes kept those instincts at bay. She reached out to shake my hand. I took it.

  “Nice to meet you, Sawyer,” she said. A charge jolted through me as I touched her soft, delicate hand. I swear she felt it, too.

  “Now, kindly fuck off and let me go home.”

  OK, maybe not.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” I told her, taking back my hand and resting it on the handle of my gun.

  “So you’re kidnapping me?”

  “If that’s what you want to call it. I’ve always preferred ‘relocating the asset.’”

  “Relocating where, exactly? The Batcave?”

  “I’m no superhero, kid.”

  “Then why are you acting like one? If you’re really concerned about my safety, you’d let me go. I’ll get out of town, go see my sister.”

  “And endanger her, too? Great plan. Don’t underestimate these people, Vanessa.”

  The thought of her sister being at risk is what finally got through to her. I could tell she was rethinking her options.

  “Just come with me,” I said, placing my hands on her shoulders. “My house is safe. I’m like a ghost—no one knows anything about me. Stay for a few days until the dust settles, then we’ll make a plan. OK?”

  She batted those innocent, hazel eyes at me. My gaze dropped briefly to her cleavage, on full view in that tight white top of hers. It was a subconscious flick of my eyes, but she caught it.

  She put her hand on my dick and said, “Someone’s thinking with the wrong head, here.” My cock grew hard under the palm of her hand. She was playing mind games. Fine by me.

  Without breaking eye contact or moving her hand away, I traced the tip of my fingers down the side of her body and over the exposed skin of her midriff.

  “Don’t kid yourself,” I said. “You feel it, too.”

  “Feel what, exactly?” Now she was teasing my cock, slowly stroking me with her fingers.

  “Lust. Attraction. Desire.” I let my hand move down her thigh, then back up under her school girl skirt.

  “Guess again,” she said. “Maybe I’m just trying to distract you before I grab that gun of yours and force you to let me go.”

  “I’m pretty sure telling me about your surprise plan negates the entire purpose of having a surprise plan.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe it’s reverse psychology.”

  “Or maybe you can’t admit the unthinkable. You want to come with me.”

  She backed away suddenly and crossed her arms. “Bullshit.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” I said, stepping toward her again, closing the distance between us. “Let me touch you. Down there. If you aren’t wet, you can go. Your life is yours to risk. But if you are...we leave together.”

  She thought about it for all of two seconds before uncrossing her arms and spreading her feet apart.

  “Fine,” she said, grinning. “You’ve got a deal.”

  Chapter Four

  Vanessa

  What the fuck was wrong with me? Of course I was wet. Soaking, in fact. There was something about this man that made feel all kinds of off-kilter. Maybe it was the dangerous situation, or his cool confidence. Or, I feared, maybe I was attracted to the violence.

  I come from a rough neighborhood. My mom struggled to raised my sister and I after my abusive father skipped town. We had no father figure for the majority of my upbringing. Just an endless stream of losers and addicts brought home by mom.

  As my sister and I got older and began developing physically, a lo
t of those deadbeats were just as interested in us as they were our mother. Yeah. Fuck ‘em all. I learned to resist, to take care of us when no one else would.

  There was no time for boys as I pushed myself to excel in school. Without a scholarship, I knew I’d never be able to afford college. And for the most part, things worked out. I made it to a good school with plenty of financial help.

  But somewhere along the way, I forgot to lose my virginity.

  This deal online, with that creepazoid gangster now lying dead in the living room, it was two-fold. Earn some easy money to help sis pay off her surgery bills (she’d survived a rare cancer, thank god, but not without first amassing a mountain of debt), and also hand in my v-card so I didn’t have to think about it anymore. I just wanted it over with, so that when I met the right guy it wasn’t this anxious cloud hanging over my head.

  Clearly, it didn’t happen. So as I stood there in front of my potential kidnapper (or savior?) in a school girl outfit—Castaldi’s request, btw—hoping to find a way out of this mess, I played the wrong card. Any second now he was going to put his hand between my legs and find my panties drenched with arousal. Why did I have to touch his cock?! Did I really think that would buy me any favors with this sociopath?

  Or maybe, I wanted him to know how turned on I was. Maybe he was right, and I wanted to lose the bet so he could whisk me away, claiming me for himself. Show me what a real man is like. Castaldi’s limp performance had me wondering if I should play for the other team.

  My heart quickened as Sawyer stepped toward me. He put three fingers on my chest and gently pushed me back against the dresser.

  Then his hand went down, grazed slowly up my thigh, and cupped the mound of my trembling pussy.