How the Hitman Stole Christmas Read Online Sam Mariano

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
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Last night, though.

There’s no fucking excuse for last night.

I push out a breath, leaning my head against the door and watching out the window.

I feel Jasper’s gaze flicker in my direction, but I don’t look at him.

Last night was a mistake. I should not have slept with him last night. We had already ended things, I knew the truth at that point. I should have said no. I mean, I did, but I should have kept saying it. I should have said it a thousand fucking times if I had to.

He just sounded so sad. He looked so sad.

I didn’t want to make him sad, even if he made me sad first.

It also didn’t seem like he was going to take no for an answer, and I didn’t know what that would look like. It wouldn’t have been like the first time in the shower, it would have been something else—something painful for both of us. Torrid and twisted, ripping even more holes in both of us than there already are.

Neither of us needed that.

I may have lost the battle, but I’ll win the war.

I took control of the situation, regardless of how it might have seemed to him.

He was drunk, anyway. Who knows if he even remembers the finer details?

I certainly do.

I’m not mad, though—not at him. I’m mad at me.

I’m aggravated because I knew from the get-go it would be a mistake to attach to him, I even knew what I needed to avoid to ensure that didn’t happen, and I let it happen anyway. Begged for it to happen. I could have kept things simple this week, I could have navigated these waters much more carefully, ensuring both of our needs were met—he had someone to bring home to his family, I didn’t get murdered and I had somewhere to go for Christmas—and then we both could have emerged unscathed.

He could go back to the life he leads in Chicago, I could fly back home to Syracuse, and our lives would have gone on more or less unchanged.

He says it was Fate that brought us together on the road that night, but maybe he was wrong. We’re from completely different worlds. We live completely different lives.

Maybe our paths were never meant to cross.

Everything happens for a reason, they say.

Maybe they’re wrong, too.

The car ride to Stillwater had its quiet moments, but it was nothing like the drive back to Chicago.

Jasper is comfortable in silence so it doesn’t seem to rankle him at all, but I grow restless after the first few hours of not speaking to one another.

It’s not an angry silence, necessarily. There definitely is tension in the air, but it’s rife with hurt and disappointment, not anger.

“Do you listen to music?”

Since I’ve ended our unspoken agreement not to talk to each other, Jasper slides a glance in my direction. “Sometimes. Not when I’m driving.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, his gaze shifting back to the road. “I like to be alert when I’m on the road. Music is a distraction I don’t need.”

“You let me listen to Christmas music in the car when we were driving through Stillwater.”

“A lot of things were different in Stillwater,” he says.

“Tell me about it,” I murmur under my breath, turning my head to look out the window again.

We don’t talk much the rest of the way. I tell him when I need him to pull off so I can pee, and he does. He asks if I’m hungry and I say I’m not, even though it’s not true. I just don’t want to stop for food. I don’t want to find some place on an exit along the way. I don’t want to explore with him.

I just want to go home.

My rumbling stomach gives me away and Jasper makes some excuse about needing gas so he can pull off at the next travel plaza. I’m starving by that point so I use the bathroom while we’re there, then I buy a bag of chips and a cup full of fruit to eat in the car to stop my tummy’s rumbling.

When I get back out to the car, I find Jasper waiting with a couple of hot dogs and pops that he bought while I was inside. I get in and he passes me a hot dog.

“Thank you,” I murmur as I take it.

He nods, not saying a word.

That’s our last meaningful interaction before we make it back to Chicago.

When we finally get back to the city, I feel some of the weight dropping off my shoulders. This week has been a whole thing, but it’s so close to being over now.

When Jasper drove me out of this city, I thought I might never see it again.

It could have been worse. He could have done more than scratch up my heart. He could have killed me.


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