Hannah and the Hitman

Chapter 71

71

JACK

As planned, although a bit late, Paul showed up. Three blacked out SUVs were at the curb. He stood flanked by his goons. To locals on the street, they probably thought he was the President with a secret service detail instead of a mafia boss.

Dax helped Sal down the walk and two of Paul’s men took him from him. He was too out of it from my beat down to do much more than whimper about morticians and half-twits and being adopted. He was shut into the backseat of the front vehicle, and all was quiet.

I had my arm flung around Hannah’s shoulder as we stood in front of Paul.

“I see now why you retired,” he said, eyeing her a little too appreciatively.

I wanted to punch him in the face for having any kind of thoughts about my girl, but we were at a balancing point. I got out of the business and Paul took care of the one problem stopping me from doing so.

“We both get what we want,” I said, tipping my head toward the SUV where Sal was.

Paul was in his late twenties. He looked like a younger version of his soon-to-be dead father. “He shipped me to Denver,” he muttered. “The asshole.”

“He was threatened by you,” I told him.

Paul nodded. “He was right.”

I slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re returning to Vegas to take your rightful place.”

Paul glanced around. Took in the quiet street. “And you’re moving here.”

Hannah looked up at me.

“Yeah. Hannah’s starting a business and I’m going to help out.”

Paul held out his hand. We shook.

He nodded to Hannah and told Dax he’d be in touch. While I might be retired, Dax wasn’t. Paul had a lot of fixing that needed done.

He turned toward the middle car and one of his men opened the back door for him. “Let’s stop at the lemonade stand on the way. I’m thirsty.”