Hitman vs Hitman - L.A. Witt Page 0,11

to do was wait.

Wait, and hope August didn’t fuck him over.

He didn’t let that thought linger. There was nothing he could do to stop him, so the best he could do was focus on his tasks and hope for the best.

After about an hour of sitting in this stupid dark closet, Ricardo was finally rewarded with the sound of footsteps. He thumbed the trigger guard of the pistol in his hand. Almost time. Almost. Just a few more—

A giggle and the sound weight landing on a mattress made him hold his breath.

Then there was another giggle. And a masculine voice murmuring something low and playful.

Oh God. Ricardo pressed his forehead against the barrel of his gun. Please tell me they’re not going to fuck.

Someone gasped.

Dammit. They’re going to fuck.

And they were not in it for a quickie, either. Ricardo had to give the guy credit—douchebag or not, none of his wife’s orgasms sounded fake. Didn’t make up for… Well, it didn’t make up for anything the guy did, but at least Baldwin was apparently willing to satisfy his wife.

When they’d finally finished, it was go time. Ricardo would’ve loved to spend half an hour or so forgetting the sound of Lance Baldwin blowing his load, but it was what it was. Mrs. Baldwin went in for a shower, and the closet door opened. The light came on. Baldwin strolled in, sweaty and butt-ass naked with his hair tousled and a self-satisfied grin on his smarmy lips.

Really? Really? You couldn’t even put on a pair of boxers? Ugh.

But part of being a hitman was rolling with the punches, even if it meant grabbing a naked billionaire from behind. Which he did.

Baldwin stiffened, but a hand over his mouth kept him quiet.

“Don’t move,” Ricardo growled. “And don’t make a sound unless you want your wife to ruin that nice white carpet.” He tapped the pistol against Baldwin’s naked hip.

Baldwin tensed even more.

“We clear?” Ricardo asked.

The man nodded.

“All right. I’m going to take my hand way, but I will shoot both of you if you make a sound.”

Another nod.

Ricardo let him go. “First things first, put on some fucking pants.”

Baldwin turned around, features twisted as if he were about to ask if Ricardo had lost his mind. But then he saw Ricardo, and recognition instantly dawned. “You,” he whispered. “You’re the fucking exterminator.”

“I’m surprised you remember me,” Ricardo said. “Glad to see some peons register.” He gestured with his gun at Baldwin’s dick. “Now would you please put on some pants so we can get on with this?”

“Get on with what?” Baldwin growled.

Right then, the shower stopped.

Baldwin swallowed.

Ricardo narrowed his eyes. “We can do this one-on-one, or we can get your wife involved.”

“Okay. Okay.” Baldwin put up his hands. “Let me…” He gestured past Ricardo. “Hand me those pants.”

Ricardo wasn’t falling for it. He stepped out of the way and waved Baldwin toward the selection of neatly hung jeans.

Without speaking, Baldwin put on a pair. Ricardo kind of felt bad about using the guy’s wife to bend him into submission, but he didn’t spend too much energy on it. If all went well, he wasn’t killing anyone tonight. Maybe not even this guy. He just needed Baldwin to cooperate and do as he was told.

Baldwin zipped up his fly. “All right. Now what?”

“Now we go down to the wine cellar, and if you do anything to get anyone’s attention, I’ll shoot you in a place that won’t kill you quickly. Are we clear?”

Baldwin gulped. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re clear.”

“Good. Put on a shirt, and I’ll tell you what to do.”

“They’re in the wine cellar?” Baldwin barked as Ricardo followed him down the stairs. “How the hell did they get in there?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Ricardo said in his timid Marty voice, surprised but pleased that Baldwin was such a good actor. “But that’s why I need you to tell me if I can move these wine bottles. They look expensive, and I—”

“Of course they’re expensive. For fuck’s sake…”

Kyle appeared beside them as they crossed the kitchen. “What’s going on, sir?”

“Just having a meeting with the exterminator,” Baldwin growled. He stomped down the steps into the wine cellar.

Kyle looked like he was coming too, so Ricardo gestured at the door. “Keep this shut. I might flush out some rats, and I don’t want them coming upstairs.”

Kyle’s eyes widened in horror. “Uh, sir?”

Baldwin gestured dismissively. “Keep it shut. I don’t want any rats getting loose.”

Nodding vigorously, Kyle shut the door behind them.

Ricardo led Baldwin deeper into