Hitman's Revenge (a Forbidden Bad Boy Romance) by Emilia Beaumont Page B

he never had, but she didn’t need to know that. I moved into the alley and saw that she was indeed alone. “What do you know?”
    Her eyes lowered as she fiddled nervously with the zipper on her coat. “I-I had a client that night he died. He was bragging about killing a man, an important man.” I saw red instantly but kept my cool, needing to get the information.
    “I didn’t know he was talking about Nixon until I saw it in the paper the next day,” she continued. “I swear it.” She then looked up at me, her eyes red-rimmed. “Your dad was always so nice, always tipped well. I’m gonna miss him.”
    “I believe you,” I sighed, reaching into my pocket. I kept my face straight and devoid of any emotion, it wouldn’t do to crumble about the old man now. That was for later. “Here.”
    She looked up at the hundred-dollar bill, and her eyes went wide. Alice paid her girls well, but an extra bill at the end of the night would no doubt help her. I held it out, and she took it with trembling fingers, stuffing it into the coat quickly. “I-I can give you a blowjob if you want.”
    “Go on back inside,” I said roughly. She hesitated, fingering the bill inside her pocket. “His name was Steve. He wanted me to call out his name while, well, you know.”
    I nodded. She scampered away, and I walked out of the alley, anger burning in my chest. So Alice had been right after all. Colt didn’t have the balls to come start this whole mess off, to kill Nixon by himself, so he sent some asshole to do it for him. I should have expected nothing less.
    Steve, huh? Now I had a partial name to associate with Nixon’s killer. He would pay, just like Colt would pay… even if he’d been following orders.
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    I walked into the apartment I hadn’t seen in over a year and took a deep breath, dropping the duffel bag at the door. I had bought the place for the killer view (no pun intended), but I was rarely here to enjoy the damn thing. It was just a place for me to store my belongings, a small reprieve, but as I walked over to the expanse of windows on the other side of the living room, I couldn’t help but feel a slight calm coming over me; clarity peeking out from around the edges.
    Kitty’s words still haunted me, and my concern over Hazel’s safety were eating me up inside. I knew I had to get to her soon, and it killed me, all the time I had to waste tracking down the information I sorely needed.
    And yet I still didn’t know what Colt was doing, other than making me walk into some sort of trap that he had planned. Colt was one of the more serious career criminals, ranking above Pedro or Romano for that matter. He owned half of the eastern seaboard, his investments making way for hidden drug-making facilities and sex trafficking. He had enough of the police force and politicians in his back pocket to be virtually untouchable, and no one dared meet him on his own turf if they cared for their livelihood. Whereas I had talked my way with the others, I wouldn’t be able to with Colt. No, it would strictly be a rescue mission, one that I hoped to hell was going to work. I needed to get Hazel out of there before I dealt with Colt. He would pay for what he had done to Nixon, but not until I could secure Hazel and get her somewhere safe.
    Sighing, I walked over to the fridge and opened it, glad to see that the maid still stocked it with my favorite drinks in case I should stop by. I grabbed a beer and a bottle opener, popping the top before taking a long swallow. Tomorrow I would head to Miami to scope out the place, see if Hazel was still being held there and make my plans.
    I was a one man show, and that wasn’t going to change just because Colt was behind this. I couldn’t trust anyone else to do it for me.
    Placing a palm on the granite countertop in front of me, I tried not to think of what Hazel must be going through. I had always told her, promised her, that I would protect her. Though my current job position