AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Probably not. But I’m not lying,” he repeated. “I’m not going to kill you. Or hurt you.”
“Damn right you won’t,” she retorted. “I won’t give you the opportunity.”
He studied her for a long moment. “A real hitman wouldn’t wait for you to give him an opening,” he said, watching her carefully. “He or she would take the opportunity as soon as it presented itself.” He jerked his head in the direction of the road. “Think about it, Alex. If I were the hitman your husband hired, I would have killed you after you helped me out of the car. An experienced killer would know how to break a neck so it looked like you fell the wrong way. I would’ve dumped your body in the ditch, knowing the snow would cover it for a good long time. By the time it was found, I’d be hundreds of miles away.”
As Gideon spoke, Alex pressed hard into the back of the seat, as if she could will herself right through it. Farther away from him.
He leaned closer. Alex swallowed.
“Before I did that, I’d press your fingerprints onto the steering wheel,” he continued, as if describing a mundane, ordinary chore. “The door handle. So they’d assume it was your car. Then I’d get into your car and drive up to this truck stop. Get some food. Some warmer clothes. And find a place to wait out the storm.”
“As soon as they found my body, they’d run the license plate and VIN for that car,” she shot back. “They’d know it belonged to you. They’d find you eventually.”
“Not if I was a real hit man,” he retorted. “I’d have multiple identities. I’d toss the one I used after a hit and start using the next one. I’d disappear from the earth.”
Instead of standing up and running, the way he suspected she wanted to do, Alex straightened her spine. Held his gaze. “Maybe you are the killer. You put a lot of thought into that scenario. Maybe you’ve done exactly that with one of your earlier victims.”
“And maybe I just have a good imagination. Winter storm? Check. Cars sliding off the road? Check. A killer taking what the weather was handing him? Check and mate. Game over.”
He reached toward her, and she pressed harder into the back of the booth. Slid her hands beneath the table. “Do you expect me to thank you for not killing me?” she whispered. They were too far away for any of the other patrons to hear them, but he wasn’t about to point that out. He didn’t want to freak her out more than he already had.
“Of course not.” He sighed. “Because that was never going to happen.”
The waitress appeared at their table, sliding their plates onto the table. “Be right back with your salad and more coffee,” she said as she hurried away.
The aroma of food made Gideon’s stomach growl, and he was pretty sure Alex was equally hungry. They’d both missed breakfast this morning, and it was probably well after lunch time.
Grabbing her sandwich, Alex took a bite and closed her eyes. Moaned, as if that sandwich might possibly be the best thing she’d ever tasted.
Gideon tightened his hands around his burger. Looked away. What was wrong with him? He couldn’t react to Alex Conway that way.
* * *
When Alex opened her eyes again, Gideon was staring at her, his blue eyes dark. Frowning, she brushed her napkin over her chin. “What? Do I have cheese smeared on my mouth?”
“No,” he said, swallowing hard. “No cheese. You, ah, made a… noise.”
“Duh,” she replied, swirling a fry through the little cup of ketchup on her plate. “I’m hungry.”
“Yeah, well, warn me next time,” he muttered.
Alex set her teeth. Narrowed her gaze. “We are not going there,” she said. “Am I clear?”
“Crystal.” He picked up his burger and held her eyes for a long moment. She stared at him steadily. He was the first to look away.
Neither of them spoke as they devoured their food. When they were finished, Alex thumbed through her cash until she found a twenty. Trying to pay her bill with one of the hundreds would draw attention. The last thing she wanted.
Gideon slid a credit card out of his wallet and placed it on his bill.
Staring at the credit card, she wondered if it was in his name. Or if he used another name when he was stalking a victim. She craned her neck to see his card, but he’d set his hand over the bill. Covered up the card.
His mouth twitched, and she realized he knew what she was doing. “Trying to suss out my alias?” he asked. “The one I use when I’m on an unsanctioned hit?”
She stared pointedly at his hand, covering the card. “You’re not being real subtle,” she said, nodding at his hand. “Makes me wonder what you’re hiding.”
“I’m yanking your chain,” he said, shoving the bill and the credit card across the table. ‘Gideon Wolf’ was the name on the card.
“Fine,” she said, sliding it back to him. “Gideon Wolf is your real name. Or your alter-ego. The identity you’ve established when you’re in hitman mode.”
