Kissing the Killer: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Barone Crime Family) (5 page)

“No way. We’re pinned down!”

I could see fear in his eyes, and I realized he was useless.

I moved away, heading toward the front of the line. The girls were mostly huddled together still in their trucks.

That was when I saw them.

Spiders, their masks on, walking into the alley from the other end. They had heavy weapons out and were walking casually, like it was no big deal. Their dark clothes and heavy armor made them look like demons from another world.

“Line up and fucking fire!” one of the goons on our side yelled. The men began shooting at the Spiders, but they just kept coming, unleashing hell into the alleyway.

I dove into a truck full of girls toward the front of the line. There were two cars still ahead of me, but I didn’t care.

“What are you doing?” one of the girls screamed in my ear. The rest were speaking a language I couldn’t understand.

“Tell them to hold on,” I yelled over the gunfire. Then I floored the car.

The sound of twisting metal filled my ears as the car smashed into the one ahead of it. That car smashed forward, hitting the next one, and I kept the motor revving, the tires spinning. Burnt rubber replaced the smell of blood.

Slowly the truck pushed the two cars forward. We were moving, slowly but surely, up and out of the alley. Bullets rained down on the truck, but they were being careful, too careful.

It hit me instantly. They were trying not to hit the girls. I kept going forward, my confidence swelling. The other mafia thugs were firing back at the Spiders, but they were still coming. The thugs were dropping one by one, though some emulated me and got back into the trucks.

Five feet, three feet, and suddenly the two cars were pushed out into the street at the other end of the alley. My wheels were spinning as I turned the wheel, heading away.

And then two loud bursts made the car swerve.

“Fuck!” I yelled, and the girls screamed as our truck went out of control, slamming into the side of the club.

Bodies were rocked all over the place, limbs twisted with limbs. Girls were screaming and complaining, but we hadn’t been going too fast and nobody seemed hurt. Coughing from the smoke and the steam, I stumbled out of the car. I went around front and threw open the back door, looking at the girl who spoke English.

“You!” I yelled. “Get these girls out of here.”

“What? Where do we go?” she asked.

She had big brown eyes and long blond hair. She looked like she hadn’t eaten in a week.

“Run,” I told her. “Run as fast and as far as you can. Go to the police if you have to, but get the fuck away from here.”

“Why?”

“Those men will take you and you’ll all be slaves.”

The girls stepped out of the car and were looking around. Gunfire still screamed in the alley and more trucks were coming out, plus bloodied, angry men.

“Fuck, go!” I yelled, pushing the woman.

She looked at me strangely and then spoke to the other girls. She looked back at me. “What’s your name?”

“Brooks! What are you waiting for?” I yelled. The Spiders came around the corner next. “You have to go!”

“Thank you,” the girl said, and then she yelled something else. The girls scattered, running as fast as they could away from the violence.

I pressed myself up against the car, firing my gun at the Spiders as they came. I knew I wasn’t going to stop them, but at least I could slow them down.

The Spiders were coming, and I was trapped. Trucks were peeling out and driving away, and the goons were scattered, either running away or returning fire. The Spiders just kept coming, unceasing and unflinching.

I finished my clip and released it. I tucked my gun away and then moved to dart away, trying to put distance between me and the Spiders.

That was when I felt something like a hammer strike me in the chest. Pain lanced down my spine and ribs, white hot and terrible. Another hammer blow took me lower down in the stomach.

I stumbled back and then fell face-first onto the concrete.

Pain rocked my whole body, bloody and searing.

The last thing I remembered was seeing the girls disappear around the corner up ahead as the world turned to darkness.

H
e still wasn’t
home at two in the morning, and I was beginning to worry despite myself.

It wasn’t like I really cared about him one way or the other, but he was the only person I had in the world at that moment. I needed him, as much as I hated to admit it. I needed him to help me start my life, to get myself together, to escape my father’s long shadow.

I didn’t know how these security things normally went. I felt exhausted but too wired to sleep. I needed to know if he was coming back or if the mafia was going to kick down that door and drag me away to be killed. Or worse, they’d take me and sell me to one of those sex brothels you heard about on the news sometimes.

I couldn’t imagine a life worse than my own, but maybe living as a drugged-up sex toy for rich, sick perverts was worse. Maybe I’d had it good, living with my abusive and thieving asshole father.

The world could be a dark place, and right now, Brooks was the only good thing in it, or at least I hoped he was good.

When three rolled around, I found myself getting up and going back into his closet. I took out that gun, and although I knew it wasn’t loaded, it made me feel safe. I didn’t know what I’d do with it, probably just throw it at someone.

As I carried the empty gun out into the living room, the apartment door shuddered. I took a step back and stared as the lock slowly opened and the handle twisted.

The door flung open. I raised the empty gun, horrified.

Brooks practically fell into the room, his face twisted in pain. I let the gun drop as I ran to his side.

“What happened?” I asked, trying to help support his weight.

“Job went bad,” he grunted. “Fuck, I’m in a lot of pain. Help me to the kitchen.”

He leaned on me as we limped together. I sat him down on a chair and he groaned in pain.

“Where are you hurt?”

“Chest.” He took his shirt off and I stared at the bulletproof vest. He showed me the two bullets lodged in the vest, one near his heart, the other lower down.

“Come on, let’s get this off.”

He grimaced as he unstrapped the vest. I helped him gingerly pull it off, his breath coming in shallow and fast. I could see the pain on his face, but he was trying to hide it.

Finally, we got the vest and his shirt off. I stared at the large, blooming black bruises along his skin.

“Shit,” I said. “This looks bad.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” he said. “I can fucking feel it.”

“What happened?”

I went into the cabinets and finally found a clean towel. He sighed, shaking his head.

“You don’t need to know.”

“You got shot, Brooks,” I said. “I feel like I need to know.”

“Job went bad. That’s all.”

I sat back down next to him and began to dab gently at the cuts all over his face. He flinched back.

“Relax,” I said. “I just need to clean this up.”

“You a nurse or something?”

“Not exactly,” I said. “I used to take care of my dad a lot. Unsurprisingly, drunks get hurt all the time.”

“He ever get shot?”

“Only once.”

He looked away. “Sorry.”

I shrugged. “I’m not.” I dabbed at his cuts, trying to be gentle.

“What was it like, living with him?”

“Not great,” I said. “He was a violent piece of shit, but that wasn’t the worst part. He was controlling and stole most of my money.”

“Why didn’t you get out of there?”

I clenched my jaw. “It’s not that easy,” I said. “He was my father. I couldn’t just leave him to die in a puddle of his own vomit.”

“Maybe you should have.”

“Maybe, but I didn’t. Plus, I tried to leave, but every time I had enough money saved, he’d find it and gamble it away.”

“Been a hard life,” he grunted.

“Yeah, and it’s not looking much better right now.”

He nodded. “I know about hard lives. Yours isn’t done just yet.”

“I have no friends, Brooks. Most of my friends either drifted away, went to college, or got sick of me constantly dealing with my insane father. It’s hard to be optimistic.”

He grinned at me despite the pain. “You got me,” he said.

“Oh great. I have a complete stranger who kills people for a living.”

“Better than the alternative.”

“Which is what?”

“Being dead, probably.”

I laughed and stood up. “Maybe.” I went over to the freezer and opened it. I began to pile ice into the towel. “How’d you end up as a killer anyway? They take auditions, read your resume?”

“Not exactly.”

“So how then?”

He looked away as I sat back down and pressed the ice against his bruised body.

“The Barone family took me in when I was young and had nothing else. They taught me things, how to shoot and how to get away with it, how to stalk my prey, that sort of thing. Turned out I was good at it.”

“They just stuck a gun in your hand then?”

“More or less. There’s a man named Gian, a boss in the family. Back then he was just running a local crew. He took me in and trained me, and he brought me up through the ranks as he climbed.”

“So you had a patron in violence.”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “Something like that.”

“Here. Hold this,” I said, taking his hand and pressing it against the towel.

I felt something rush through me as he looked at me, his eyes intense and hungry. His hand pressed against mine sent chills down my spine as I imagined what this killer, this man, could do with those hands. I realized that I was dripping wet.

“Have you thought about my offer?” he asked softly, his voice deep and smooth.

“What offer?”

“To make you feel good,” he said. Lightning struck my body. “I can make that body bend over, your skin on fire with pleasure.”

“I haven’t thought about it at all,” I lied.

He smirked at me. “I doubt that. You’ve been thinking about what my thick cock would feel like between your legs. You want to slide that wet cunt down my length and shiver as I fuck you deep and rough.”

“You’re in no condition to be doing any of that,” I said, standing quickly and pulling my hand away.

“I think you’d be surprised by what I’m capable of,” he said.

I walked away from him, grabbing another towel. I began to fill it with ice again.

“I think your ribs are broken,” I said.

“They’re not.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve had broken ribs before. This isn’t that bad.”

I sighed and handed him the other ice towel. “Okay then. You’re the expert on getting your ass kicked, I guess.”

“That I am.”

He took the ice and pressed it against the other bruise.

“Look at you,” he said. “You’re practically dripping where you stand. Did I excite you so much that you need to run away?”

“I’m not running away,” I said.

“Sure you are. You can’t handle how badly you want me to suck that pussy until you can’t stand.”

“I’d rather you not bleed all over me.”

“All I hear are excuses, but no denial. We both know what you want. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Good night, Brooks,” I said, turning away.

“Night then, Emma. Sweet dreams. Go touch that little pussy of yours and think about me.”

I flipped him off and then went into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

I took a deep breath, trying to get myself together. What the hell was wrong with me? Brooks was a killer and a kidnapper. But he’d also saved my life, and he made me feel something I’d never experienced before. Chills ran down my spine, and my body reacted to his every word. It was like I had no control over myself when that man started talking dirty to me.

I undressed and got into bed and couldn’t help but do exactly what he’d told me to do. I slipped my hands down my panties and closed my eyes tight as I began to touch myself, thinking about Brooks.

I couldn’t help myself. I wanted him, despite hating that I needed him. I hated that another man was protecting me, owning me. I wanted to get away, but I also wanted him to take me.

I wanted him to press me back up against the door, kiss my neck and lips, his hands rushing down along my skin. He’d hike up my skirt and find my pussy, dripping wet. I could only guess at the dirty things he’d have to say about that.

And of course he’d begin to work my pussy, just like I was touching myself in bed, thinking about him. I imagined him pressing his fingers deep inside me, kissing my lips, grinning at me with that delicious smile. He’d work me hard and fast, my hands gripping his shoulders, my whole body shaking as he pressed himself against me. I could practically feel his warm breath against my skin as I rubbed my own clit, imagining that my fingers were his.

And as I got to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore, he’d turn me around, force me over, spread my legs, and get down on his knees. He’d peel my panties down and then lick my pussy from behind, getting me soaked and squirming.

Then he’d stand and press his thick cock deep inside me.

I felt my own fingers press inside as I worked myself, biting my lip, my eyes closed shut. Brooks would fuck my tight pussy from behind, working me, whispering in my ear. I’d never been taken before, but he’d know exactly what to do. He’d command me easily, make me work my hips as he slid his cock deep inside me.

The thought of him fucking me from behind, working my clit and whispering orders in my ear, sent me over the edge. The orgasm overtook me, my legs shaking, and I couldn’t get that grinning face from my mind.

I finished and lay back, panting. I couldn’t believe I’d just gotten myself off in his bed with him right out there. He probably heard me moaning even though I was trying to be quiet.

I couldn’t let myself want him. I needed to be free, needed to be strong. I had to get out of this situation, and I had to do it soon. I couldn’t rely on Brooks or anyone.

I drifted off to sleep, angry at myself, but still wanting to dream of him.