Last Hit (Hitman) by Jessica Clare, Jen Frederick Page A

wouldn’t let me go, no matter how much I begged. Too open and unsafe, he would tell me.
    I feel a flare of anger at my father. How much of my life has he robbed from me? For a moment, I’m viciously glad that I have abandoned him…and then guilt sweeps in and carries any anger away.
    Nick parks his bike in one of the front parking spaces and pulls his helmet off, shaking out his hair. He’s gorgeous. I watch him under my helmet. I could drink in his profile forever. He is handsome, his features fine-boned but still masculine, his eyes pale and intense. He puts the helmet down and indicates that I should get off the bike.
    I comply, swinging my leg over the bike and feeling clumsy as I do. The jeans I’m wearing are baggy and old, and they slide a little when I stand up. I hitch them surreptitiously as he puts up a kickstand and gets off the bike himself.
    Before I can lift my hands, he’s removing the helmet he bought just for me. For some reason, it doesn’t feel like control as much as it feels like…tenderness. He’s achingly sweet, this Nick, despite his hard, intense exterior. I think that is why I trust him.
    When he pulls it off, he smiles at me, as if pleased to see my face. "We are at mall."
    "So we are," I say breathlessly. “Thank you for driving me."
    He tilts his head, as if trying to determine what I mean. "I will shop with you. Is only fair."
    His accent seems to get thicker from time to time, as if he forgets to control it. I feel a little flustered at the thought of him shopping with me. The clothes that were ruined were panties and bras, two shirts, and a pair of jeans. "You don’t have to. It’s not necessary."
    "
Da.
Is necessary." And he crooks his arm for me, like a gentleman, to escort me into the mall.
    All my protests fade at the sight of that elegant, polite elbow. I slide my hand in and move a bit closer to him, letting him lead me inside.
    Once we pass through the glass doors into the mall, I gasp. This place is a wonderland.
    "Is that a roller coaster?" I squeak. The mall is at least four stories tall and it is so big that the sounds echo. Even if I squint, I can’t see to the far end of the building. It’s like it goes on forever. Big, potted plants line the median of the enormous walkway, and there are colorful banners hanging high overhead that broadcast sales and specialty stores. There are lit signs and elegant window displays and people everywhere.
    It’s overwhelming and incredible all at once. "Oh, wow." I look over at Nick to see if he’s impressed, too, but he’s watching me. Color hits my cheeks, and I glance away, looking around again. I don’t even know where to start, and all the stores look so expensive. “Do you know which store is cheapest?"
    He’s silent, and when I look over, he’s frowning at me. "Why cheapest, Daisy?"
    I blush at the way he says my name, like his tongue has to caress the syllables before they leave his mouth. “Well, we are only spending seventy dollars. I want to get as much as I can for my money."
    And then I flush even brighter, because it’s not my money, it’s his. And all he owes me are some panties and a pair of pants. It feels wrong to try and fleece him out of extra clothing simply because I need it.
    "Daisy," he says quietly. "Do not worry about money. Buy clothes you need. I will pay,
da?
Do not look at prices."
    This makes me frown. I don’t want to argue with Nick. I want to kiss him. But I’m not bold enough for that, so I figure that I will simply pick out inexpensive clothes and that this will complete our shopping trip. "All right."
    I see a large store that advertises shirts for five dollars and head in that direction, but Nick takes my hand and tugs me down the wide-tiled hallways. I’m sure I’m going to have a sore neck from whipping my head back and forth as I stare in amazement at all the stores. There is a store for everything from magnets to hats. Finally, Nick stops at a store with big, gold letters at the