Stolen from the Hitman: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance(53)

Liv notices my glancing back periodically, and she furrows her brow. “Will Felix be okay?”

“If there’s one thing Felix has excelled at besides his computer toys,” I say, leaning back and relaxing a little in my seat, “it’s running away. And I don’t mean that in a condescending manner — lesser men would have been dead long ago. I trust him to save his own skin. That said…”

I pull out my phone and turn it on, calling Felix’s number and putting the phone to my ear as it starts to ring.

“What are you doing?!” Liv exclaims, and I look around as though I’m about to run into a car.

“Huh? What’s the matter?”

“You can’t use the phone while you’re driving—especially not in European traffic, are you nuts?” Of all the things she could be concerned about today, safe driving is apparently top of her list.

I give her a flat look and roll my eyes, but as she holds her gaze steady on me, adorably, genuinely concerned, I hand it over, and she puts it on speaker, holding it up with a satisfied look on her face. I narrow my eyes at her, but I can’t hide an affectionate smile as I do.

“Hello? Max?” I hear Felix’s voice from the phone.

“Felix,” I say, “thanks for the warning, I owe both of you my life.”

“Yeah, sure, we’ll get some petit fours to celebrate, but what do we do about the murderous, sex-trafficking Chechens first?”

“They’ve seen us and our cars,” I say, taking a deep breath as I consider just how bad things look right now, “so they know our faces and our license plates—I assume you’ve already shaken whomever was tailing you.”

“Left ‘em in the dust five blocks ago, but they got a look at my tags, I’m sure.”

“Right. It’s only a matter of time before they track us. My home isn’t safe anymore.”

“Merde. Fine, I’ll go pay my grandmother a visit, I guess. Keep me posted, though, she has a lovely kitchen that I’d rather not see get shot up by the mafia!”

I tilt my head away from his shouting and reply in a bored tone, “You’ll be fine, Felix. But you can’t go anywhere that’s tied to you, or they’ll worm their way there. We’ll meet up with you when we know what the next step will be. For now, remember the safehouse I stashed you away at the first time you came to me?”

“That old place? Is it still secure?”

“Yes. Head there, and take a little comfort in the tremendous favor I owe you now.”

“Don’t think I’ll forget,” he drones, “but will you be joining me?”

“No,” I say firmly, “we need to remain separate.”

“What? Max, where are you going—” but I tap the button to hang the phone up, ending the call before Liv puts the phone in her lap as she chews on her lip thoughtfully.

“I’m guessing you don’t have a French grandmother we can go lie low with in the countryside, do you?” she asks carefully, and I smile a bit. After a pause, Liv tilts her head as if asking for more.

“So if we aren’t going to your safe house,” she starts, “then where exactly are we heading?”





19





Liv





I glance over at Max, whose knuckles are tensed and white over the steering wheel, his green eyes staring straight ahead. He’s right beside me physically, but mentally he’s in another realm entirely. I wish I could read his mind, see the racing train of thoughts in his head. Even though his expression is relatively serene — probably the result of years of training himself to be calm under duress — I know he’s in turmoil over what move to make next. There’s no doubt that I’m in over my head with this one, and I have no way of knowing whether this is too much for Max to handle, too.

I get the impression that he’s dealt with far worse situations, but then again, what do I really know about him anyway? I know he’s a good man with good intentions. At least, I think he is. I hope. Everything he’s shown me thus far indicates to me that he’s not one of them.

Although, knowing that he was part of that same sort of group once upon a time definitely chips away at my confidence in him just a little. It’s hard to comprehend how this beautiful, noble knight of a man could have ever walked along the dark side. And I know there are shades of gray here. Just how far into darkness did Max once dive? And for how long?

And why? Was it just desperation? Did he ever enjoy this depravity?

But now is not the time to ask such questions. I can see a tiny muscle twitching in Max’s strong jaw, and I want so badly to reach over to stroke his face to calm him. To reassure him that I trust him. To tell him I’m with him, no matter what.