Hitman's Desire: A Bad Boy Romance by Megyn Riley Page A

ruckus. I step out into the lobby, weapon ready. I don’t even bother to conceal it. I’m ready for a fight.
    The lobby looks clear.
    The concierge sees me and rushes over.
    “Someone broke the rules,” I say, marching toward the front door.
    “My most sincere apologies.” He scurries after me. “I hope you won’t allow this incident to reflect negatively on our establishment?”
    I ignore him.
    “Please allow us to offer you a complementary stay in the future.”
    “Give me your cell phone,” I demand.
    “What?”
    “Don’t make me take it from you.”
    “Certainly.” The concierge slips a cellphone from his pocket and hands it to me. “Anything you need. Just ask.” He gives a phony smile.
    I push through the main doors and grab a cab that is loading someone else’s bags in the trunk. A couple of newlyweds catching a cab for the airport. Honeymoon’s over.
    Nobody is going to argue with a pissed off man wielding an Uzi. “Pier 57,” I say.
    The cab driver drops the luggage. I hear something inside one of the bags break. The cabby raises his hands in the air. His eyes bug out, and his face washes over pale. He’s trembling.
    “Now!” I yell.
    He scurries around to the driver’s seat, and I climb in back. Tires squeal, and we launch away from the taxi stand, blazing off into the night.

14

Scarlett
    I stand in the shadows across the street from the 57th Street Pier, watching to see who shows up. After a few minutes, I see Murphy's black SUV pull to the curb. He throws it in park, kills the engine, and steps out. His eyes glance from side to side, scanning the area. He keeps a hand in his coat pocket, undoubtedly gripping a pistol. He strolls about halfway down the pier and takes a seat on a bench.
    I hold back in the shadows for a bit. My eyes scan up and down the street. I look up to the roof tops of neighboring buildings. I look for open windows. Anywhere that a sniper could be hiding. There are a few open windows, but nothing overly suspicious. Perhaps I’m just being paranoid, but after what’s already happened tonight, I’m a little spooked.
    Murphy is still waiting casually on the bench. I step out from the shadows and wait for the streetlight to turn. Then I stroll through the crosswalk and make my way to the pier. My hand is planted firmly on my pistol, still in its holster.
    Murphy sees me approach, and he smiles. He stands up to greet me as I arrive at the bench.
    “Thank God you’re okay,” he says.
    “How did the shooter find us?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Ryker thinks we have a mole in the Bureau.”
    “Does he?” Murphy scoffs. “I can think of any number of people who would want him dead.”
    “There is a contract out on me too.”
    Murphy grimaces.
    “Let’s get you someplace safe,” Murphy says. “We can talk more about this.”
    “I’m beginning to think that there is no place safe.”
    Murphy's eyes narrow at me. “You trust me, don’t you?”
    I hesitate. I don’t know what to think. He sees the doubt in my eyes.
    “Scarlett, your father was my best friend. I’ve known him for 30 years. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
    I hesitate a moment. I’ve known this man all of my life. He’s never given me any reason not to trust him. Finally, I nod and smile.
    Just then, two cars screech up to the pier. Doors burst open. Four men in ski masks spring out, semiautomatic weapons in hand. A flash of muzzle fire. Bullets rip through the air.
    Murphy's chest explodes in a crimson mist. Blood splatters across my face. Murphy's body crashes to the concrete with a splat. Blood pools from his gaping wounds. I gasp in horror. My eyes glisten with tears.
    I draw my weapon, but I’m surrounded.
    “Put the gun down, ma’am,” one of the attackers says.
    I have no choice. I might be able to take out one of them. But the other three will gun me down. My heart is in my throat and I’m trembling. I’ve been in sticky situations before, but this is intense. My