Knocked Up by the Killer - Page 17

He hit me sometimes. Only when he got too drunk and only when I was still awake to take it, but he hit me. That wasn’t the worst part though. No, the worst part was the uncertainty. The worst part was the late-night phone calls, the men coming over at all hours, the girls hanging around in the driveway, the drinking and the smoking and the blood.

So many bloody shirts. I learned how to get blood out of a suit at a very young age.

It fucked me up. I’m still fucked up because of it.

I sat up in the tub and let the water run off me.

God, I was broken. I don’t think I knew it back then, when I was just a little girl. I didn’t realize how scarred I was and how desensitized to all the insanity he made me. Children weren’t supposed to be around violence and sex and alcohol and drugs, they weren’t supposed to grow up thinking that stuff was normal.

I didn’t realize just how broken I’d become until I actually left that house and met normal people.

I climbed out of the tub and wrapped a towel around myself. My hair dripped down my shoulders and my back. I wrung it out in the sink then opened the bathroom door.

I half expected to find Tanner waiting for me. But there was nothing.

I snuck into my bedroom and shut the door. I put on a pair of yoga pants and a clean tank top. I wrapped the towel around my hair then padded back out into my apartment.

Tanner stood at my front windows staring at something along the edge.

“What are you doing?”

He jumped and looked back at me. He gave me a goofy smile. “Hey,” he said. “Scared me.”

I gave him a look. “What are you doing?” I repeated.

“Making sure these close right,” he said. “Do you know when this building was made?”

“I have no clue,” I said. “It’s Philly. So probably in the fifties? Maybe older.”

“Figured,” he said. “Old ass windows. Piece of shit locks.”

“We’re on the second floor.”

“Brick’s not that hard to climb.”

“Someone would see him.”

Tanner grunted. “You’d be surprised,” he said and went back to inspecting the frame.

“So how’s this going to work?” I asked. “You’re just going to sit around here and wait for someone to come try to kill us?”

“Nah,” he said. “I plan on being a little more proactive than that.”

“How?”

“I’m going to convince the Leone family to cut a deal with your father.”

I gave him a disbelieving laugh. “I thought you said my dad would just do that on his own?”

“I exaggerated a little bit,” he said, not looking at me. He pulled at the window and shook his head. “Fucking piece of shit.”

“Tanner. How do you think you’re going to do that?”

“I have connections,” he said. “I know the guys in the family. Some of them actually like me.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m very personable.” He grabbed the end of the window and slammed it shut with a loud bang. I jumped and clutched at my chest. He looked back at me and grinned. “There we go. That’ll do.”

“Jesus,” I said. “Warn me next time.”

“Sorry.” He walked over and kicked at the coffee table. “Seriously though. I’m on good terms with a few of the guys.”

“I’m guessing they probably don’t love you now that you’re protecting me,” I said.

“True.” He made a dismissive gesture. “Small thing.”

I let out a breath through my nose then walked into the kitchen. I filled up my tea kettle and put it on to boil.

“Want tea?” I asked absently.

“That’d be lovely.” He walked over and sat down at a stool on the other side of the little kitchen counter.

I leaned against the cabinets to wait for the water to boil.

“Can I ask you something?” I said.

“Sure,” he said. “Go for it.”

“How many… you know.”

He tilted his head. “How many… what? Women have I slept with?”

I gave him a look. “No,” I said. “Although should I be curious about that?”

“Only if you’re the jealous type.”

“I’ll just ignore that,” I said. “I mean, how many… people have you killed.”

“Ah,” he said, voice soft. His dark eyes stared at me like a hungry wolf. “That’s an impolite question to ask, Elise.”

I had to looked away. I felt a shiver run down my spine. He was gorgeous, so incredibly gorgeous, but he scared me.

“Sorry,” I said.

“It’s okay. You’re new to this.”

“I just want to know what kind of person you are.”

“My body count doesn’t have much to do with that.”

“Okay then.” I looked back at him, head cocked. “How’d you get into the business? Or is that off limits too?”

“No, that’s a better question.” He stroked his chin then messed up his hair. I guessed it was a nervous habit. He’d done it earlier when he was convincing me to go along with this crazy plan. “I’m not sure where to start,” he said.

Tags: B.B. Hamel Erotic
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