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Authors: Erosa Knowles

Tags: #romance, #interracial romance, #african american romance, #l, #romance action adventure, #romance adult erotica contemporary adventure, #mafia romance, #romance adult erotica

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BOOK: Loving a Bad Boy
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He pulled back his hand and slapped Geary
across the face. “You lost.” The man’s cheek twisted under the
impact. The thwacking sound bounced off the walls.

Twisting his jaw for a second or two, Geary
snorted before spitting some blood onto the floor near Julio’s
feet. “I won,” Geary countered. “Those assholes lost their
business, their money, and his bitch.” He inhaled deeply. “That
makes me—”


Dead.” Julio uttered the
word with calculated precision. When he was sure he had Geary’s
attention, he continued expressionless. “Like the men who kidnapped
Smoke. Dead.” Hands in pockets, he walked a few steps off. “Like
the men who killed the prostitutes. Dead.” He looked up at the
ceiling to help control his rage. “Like the men who attacked the
construction offices. Dead.” He looked at Geary, noticing the shock
on his face before he blanked it. “Get the picture? They’re all
dead.” He paused. “Just as you will be soon.”

Their eyes locked. Geary gave a dry
chuckle.

Julio didn’t blink.

Because of Geary’s actions, Julio had made
use of his birthright, joined the Cartel and broke his mother’s
heart. His parents had worked most of their lives to keep him from
following in the footsteps of former Cartel leader and his
grandfather, Benito Cardenas. But fate, with the help of Geary, had
other ideas.

His prisoner stared at him, a look of
disbelief on his face. “Serious?”

Julio’s brow furrowed. “What? You think I
pulled you out of prison for work release? You thought this was a
special assignment or something?” He stooped down, so he could look
the fool in the eyes. Balancing on the balls of his feet, he smiled
as uncertainty crossed the other man’s face.

Geary leaned back.


I didn’t have the warden
destroy your files and reassign you to a fantasy work detail so we
could have this talk.” He shook his head. “Nope, I paid a high
price for your sorry ass.”

The knowledge that he was no longer a free
man thrummed through him. All his life, his mom and stepdad had
taken steps to keep him away from his grandfather’s legacy, and
because of this asshole, he’d crossed that line.


What’d you mean?” Geary’s
head swiveled from side to side, as though seeing the warehouse for
the first time. “The warden sold me out?”


Sold? —You know that’s
illegal.” Although that’s exactly what happened. Warden Peterson
had an expensive Mistress on the side and constantly provided
favors for those with the cash to pay. “Lets’ just say you ceased
to exist in the prison records.” He snapped his fingers as he
stood. “Better yet, let’s just say you cease to exist.”

An inexplicable feeling of detachment draped
him. In that moment Julio knew that he could kill Top and not feel
pain, sorrow, regret or any of the emotions Gerald, his stepfather,
claimed happened when you took a life. All the lessons he learned
from his stepfather died in the echo chamber of his conscience.
Perhaps he was better than this, his mom and stepfather definitely
thought so, but he wasn’t so sure. Because when he looked at Geary
he didn’t see a man his stepfather claimed was innocent until
proven guilty. He saw a person who tried to kill someone very close
to him, period. There were so few people in his life who mattered,
that he took it personally when they were targeted. It burned his
gut to know that on this man’s order Smoke had been kidnapped and
tortured.

You never leave your
partner behind
. The price to rid the
threat to his friend was high. Julio understood and accepted the
price. Once he joined the Cartel he knew death was his only exit
door. But death would take a number and wait for him. Soon, Smoke,
Red, and Ross would arrive. The corner of his lip inched upward
into a grin at their reaction when they saw their nemesis trussed
like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Geary frowned. “What?”

Julio walked forward and placed a ball gag
in Geary’s mouth. He hoped the fool would give him a hard time, but
he didn’t.

Moving in front of his prisoner, Julio
pointed. “Problem. You. Solution?” He paused with a light chuckle.
“They’ll be here soon.”

With that he turned,
uncertain of his future. The heavy steel door slammed behind him
ending life as he’d known it. He looked at the dark windowed sedan
awaiting him, a symbol of his future. Squaring his shoulders, he
released a breath.
As one door closes,
another opens.

 

Chapter 1

 

The sharp edge of the thin blade barely
registered in his hand. Instead, he stared at the man slumped in
the seat in front of him. Slashes of red zig-zagged across the
chest and arms. Julio admired his macabre handiwork; the blood
oozed from some of the punctures created by his ice pick, and ran
profusely from his more recent blade work. Rolling his shoulders,
he picked up a pair of pliers from the table. Francisco, had
trained him in the art of interrogation, and even now, stood in the
shadows watching, waiting. Waiting to see how far his star pupil
had come. Julio could have put the old man’s mind at ease. The past
three years of front line battles for the Cartel had honed him into
a vicious animal. His friends in Michigan would barely recognize
him now. Hell, half the time he didn’t recognize himself.


He knows nothing more.
Finish it.” The low-timbered voice held no emotion. It was a direct
command from a man who knew his role in the Cartel and embraced
it.

Instead of slashing the man’s throat, Julio
picked up a towel and walked over to the basin located at the other
end of the room. The sound of footsteps on the concrete, followed
by a muffled pop, alerted him that Samuel Elliott, aka – Pinwheel,
had left the land of the breathing.


You didn’t finish
it.”

Julio started, and then continued washing
his hands. Funny thing, he had no problems slicing a victim or
shooting them from a distance. But the sight of blood on his hands
disturbed him. A weird quirk to be sure in his line of business.
His stepfather would say it meant he wasn’t cut out for this work.
He dried his hands before turning to face the man who had
single-handedly changed his life, and nodded.


He didn’t know much.”
Julio refused to discuss his reluctance to kill on demand. They’d
argued over this too many times in the past three years. He knew
Francisco was disappointed but he simply refused to kill unless in
self-defense or unless it was personal.

Francisco shrugged as though it was of
little consequence. “No, he did not.” He waved away the pesky
detail. “He talked when he should not have. It is a good lesson for
others.” He stepped forward. “Come.”

Inwardly, Julio bristled at the command even
as he followed. He pulled his hand through his shoulder length dark
hair to ease the beginnings of a headache. It was just as dark now
as it had been when he started his day before five this morning. He
was drained. Not that it mattered to the older man walking at his
side who believed men at the top didn’t get tired. Fuck that.


I would have you do a
favor for me. There are some problems in Miami. I need you to go
sort them out and fix them.”

The request surprised him but he reeled it
in. “Who runs it?”

Francisco smiled and nodded. “Good, good,
you are thinking correctly.” He paused. “Your mother’s cousin,
Roberto Benez, and some say his son, Carlos. They are blood, you
must tread carefully.”

Julio stopped, his gaze slid to his
godfather. “What exactly are you asking me to do? Fix the problem
or have a family reunion? What’s going on?” His tone was just shy
of sarcasm. Francisco was a sly old fox who loved intrigue at the
expense of others. Julio didn’t doubt for a moment there were
layers to this request he was not privy to.

Francisco peered over his shoulder and waved
Julio forward. For a moment he thought about ignoring the gesture
and standing his ground, but he realized that wouldn’t help him
gain the answers any faster. Besides, when Francisco asked you to
do a favor, it was more or less a sugar-coated demand.

Once he was shoulder to shoulder with
Francisco, the older man nodded and they walked together into the
hallway of the enormous warehouse. Their footsteps echoed loudly as
they moved toward the twelve foot high steel double doors. As they
approached, the doors opened, revealing dark gray skies, the norm
in Michigan this time of year. Julio pulled up his collar and
glanced around, looking for his men. Tex, his second, stood next to
their black Hummer. Pete sat behind the wheel, his eyes trained
toward the door.

Julio released a pent-up breath as he waited
for an explanation.


Come, sit with me.”
Francisco strode to a dark stretch limo parked nearby. Shoulders
straight, Julio followed. Curiosity dampened his anger at being
talked to like a child. After settling into the warmth of the
vehicle, he stared at the older man sitting across from him.
Francisco’s shoulders drooped as he exhaled a long breath. Julio’s
eyes narrowed as he paid closer attention. Something big had to be
going on. A frown warred with what looked like sadness on the older
man's face. “Francisco?”


Yes, yes, I know you have
questions.” He paused, looking out the window for a stretch of
time.

Julio realized they were
the only ones in the car, the driver and security men stood a short
distance away. It was a waste of time to try to rush the
explanation, so he waited. Francisco had mentioned his mother and
family.
Why
? It
wasn’t because he had an attachment to any family members, except
his mother. His palms grew damp as his mind created various
scenarios in the ensuing silence.

Francisco inhaled and then blew it out hard.
“There are serious,” he waved his hand, “discrepancies in the Miami
operation. Money and weapons are unaccounted for. One route uses
caves in an island off the Bahamas. Somehow this has been
compromised and we have been robbed.”


Robbed?” Julio failed to
keep the shock from his voice. But the idea that someone had the
balls, although that would be temporary, to steal from the Cartel
was a surprise. Every once in a while, someone might lift a few
thousand dollars, but with all the checks and balances in place,
the culprit was usually found relatively quickly. “How… what
happened?”

Francisco faced him, a wry grin on his lips.
“That is what you will find out.”

Julio wasn’t buying it. “What explanation
has been given to you?” he pressed.


New equipment, bad
weather, missing security,” he shrugged as though those were common
excuses, “you know, the normal problems.”

Julio relaxed against the
leather seat. The non-answer was more of a direct answer if you
knew how to read between the lines. The past three years working
with
this
Cartel
leader had sharpened his skills. “You suspect Roberto?”

Francisco took a moment to respond. “I am no
longer sure he is capable of running such an operation. He has
handled it for the past twenty-some years, and this is the first
time we have had a problem of this magnitude.”

Julio’s brow arched.

This
magnitude?”

Francisco waved his question aside. “There
are always challenges when working this business, as you know. What
I mean is, this situation is over and above the normal problems.
The debt is growing and I fear he will not be able to correct the
matter soon. The alternative is to replace him, which will cause
ripples in the family.”

Since Julio failed to see the problem, he
remained silent.

BOOK: Loving a Bad Boy
12.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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