His Hostage: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) (15 page)

M
y feet pound
against the pavement, my eyes focused on the red Honda ahead of me. Multiple car doors open and slam shut, then the tires squeal as they peel out. Someone fires a gun out of their window as I duck into Tommy’s car.

He starts it and hits the gas. The tires spin, and my back presses against the seat as we take off after those fuckers.

They hit us on our home turf. With my mother there. My pregnant sister-in-law. My sweetheart on my arm. They’re going to fucking pay for this shit.

“Don’t lose 'em, Tommy!” I yell, leaning out of the window. I line up my gun and fire, aiming at the fucker in the passenger seat.

Bang! Bang! Bang! The third shot gets him. I see the asshole lean down in the seat and the driver turns the wheel but the motion is too sharp, and the car swerves into the intersection. They go over the lines and almost lose control of the car. We’re closer now.

Tommy hits the gas, trying to get closer. But there are so many fucking cars out this late at night. My heart slams in my chest. They could’ve got my girl. Adrenaline fills my veins.

I look up and see we’re closer. I need to get my head on right.

The driver keeps one hand on the steering wheel, then points his gun out of the window, spraying bullets. I duck behind the dash as a bullet hits the windshield. Tommy swerves, but stays on that fucker's ass. A car honks a warning, another to my right swerves to avoid us, and all hell breaks loose. A car behind us crashes into a parked car, and the traffic light turns red. Brakes squeal and my hands push against the dash.

Fuck! They speed through the intersection and several cars speed by us as they run the light. Tommy slams on the brakes, just barely avoiding a crash. Tires screech and the smell of burning rubber floods my lungs. My head slams down on the dash, and my palms push against the leather.

“Fuck!” I yell, slamming my fist into the dash. The cars finally start moving.

“Take me back. I need to get back to my girl,” I tell him, feeling sick to my stomach. The fact that those bastards got away from me pisses me off. But I know who they are. And they’re going to fucking die. Every last one of them.

* * *

J
ust as we
park in front of the restaurant, my phone goes off.

“Vince.” Dom sounds somber and I don’t like his tone. My heartbeat slows and my vision seems to blur.

“Becca alright, Dom?” I ask first. I know my sweetheart’s okay. I stayed with her until those cowards took off. I close my eyes and pray his baby’s alright. I hate that I think the worst. But the way he said my name has my mind going crazy.

“She’s alright.”

“The baby?” I ask.

“She’s good too. Got a good view of her sucking her thumb right now.” I feel a little bit of relief at this. “Your girl...” He trails off, as if he's unsure how to say what comes next.

My heart skips a beat, and my lungs feel empty. That’s what he called about. Elle. My sweetheart. She’s okay. I know she is. She'd better be safe. I told him to take her. “What about her?”

“She’s been picked up.”

“No.” I shake my head. No fucking way.

“We tracked her phone, Vince. And it was on the cameras. Two undercovers, not ours.” I lean back against the side of the car. The sound of sirens is getting louder and louder, but I can't begin to process what that means.

“Vince, we gotta go!” Tommy's screaming in my ear, but his words barely register with me.

I look at him jumping in the driver’s side as Dom talks away in my ear. I don’t know what he’s saying, and I don’t care. I thought we had something. I thought she loved me. Loved what I did to her. Loved being mine.

The red and blue lights flash down the road ahead of us. They’ll be here soon.

I turn off my phone and put a hand over Tommy’s, stopping him from moving the car. We won’t make it. They’re gonna be here before we can get away. They’ll see us. It’ll be a chase. They don’t have anything on us right now. Questioning. It’s gotta be questioning about the shooting.
It’s not my girl
, I say over and over in my head.
Not Elle
. This isn’t about my sweetheart. My world feels like it’s collapsing around me, but I refuse to believe it. There’s been a mistake.

“Get out, and get low.” I hand him the gun in my hand and push his shoulder toward the door of the car. Tommy doesn’t waste a second, and I hop over the console to sit in his seat. As the cops roll up and park their car in front of mine, blocking me in, I get out of the car through the driver’s side, making it appear as though it was opened for me. The fucking sirens and bright lights piss me off.

“Good evening, officers.” I shut the door and walk to them as the uniformed men get out. Another car pulls up and Detective Anderson gets out. I narrow my eyes at him. I fucking hate that prick. He’d lie, cheat and steal to see us all behind bars.

“Vincent Valetti, you’re under arrest.”

My brows shoot up in surprise, but I don’t fight them. It’s foolish to put up a fight. That would just give them something they can actually charge you with. I mentally check off every possible thing in my head. No concealed weapons on me. Nothing they can pin on me. I can’t think of a damn thing that they would be able to find in the car.

I try to breathe in and out calmly as I turn around and put my hands on my head. I know the drill. I lean my stomach against the car door. This isn’t the first time it’s happened. As they slam my head into the roof of the car, I see Tommy walking down the alley. He catches my eyes and nods. He knows the drill, too. My lawyer will be there faster than I will.

I’ll be out in no time.

As long as this isn’t about my girl.

“
E
lle
, my baby!” My mother stands in the brightly lit front room of the police station. The place is mostly deserted, save for me, the two cops behind me and the one at the desk. And my mother.

I don’t answer her. I don’t know what to say. I’m still pissed off about how she dropped me from her life the second I had no money to give her. Her nose is bright red, and her eyes are watery. I’d say it’s from crying, but it’s not. She’s drunk. I bite my bottom lip as the cops walk me closer to the front desk. They leave me standing there as my mother comes closer.

“Baby girl, are you alright?” she asks, with both hands grasping for mine.
Baby girl?
My mother has never called me that. I pull my hands away from her.

“What did you do?” I snarl at her. She backs away slowly, looking to her left, then her right. Her hand comes up to her chest and if she were wearing a necklace she’d be clutching it.

“They called to tell me they found you,” she answers.

“Found me?” I practically yell. “You knew where I was!”

“It’s okay.” She reaches out for me again. “We’re going to get you out of this mess.” I stare blankly at her as she continues. “I know he kidnapped you. I was so worried.”

I sneer at her. “Were you worried when you called me a bitch for not giving you more money?”

She looks to her right and lowers her voice. “Just calm down. The police are going to give us a place out west. We’re going to go into the witness protection program. Everything is going to be worked out. Just as long as you tell them whatever they need to know.”

I look at my mother up and down. Does she think she’s getting a fresh start? Is that what she sees this as? A get out of jail free card where her past mistakes vanish, and she can use this to her advantage?

“I love you. I really do.” My voice cracks because it’s true. I do love my mother, and for some reason it makes me sick. But I deserve better. I raise my voice and harden it. “I told you that you could call me. And you called once, for money. You really were ‘so worried,' weren’t you?”

“Elle.” My mother tries to make her voice sound stern.

“You're drunk, mother. Go home and take care of yourself.”

“I can’t afford it on my own!” she yells at me. That’s really what it all comes down to. It’s always what it all comes down to.

“Then get a fucking job!” The officers come between us, and one pushes me toward the back, while a third comes behind my mother.

“You ungrateful bitch!” she screams at me as the officer pulls her away. She’s drunk and being stupid and she tries smacking the officer away. I can’t watch. She needs to get her shit together. I keep moving and try to ignore my mother’s screams as the cops lead me to a back room. My heart fucking hurts. I can’t help her if she doesn’t want it though. I just can’t put up with her shit anymore.

They open a door on the left and I walk through and almost laugh. It’s just like the movies. A mirror and everything. I guess they’re going to interrogate me. I choke on the ball forming in my throat.

At least they didn’t handcuff me. I sit down and take a shaky breath. I’m not going to give them anything. Not a damn word. As soon as they close the door I say, “I want a lawyer.”

“Miss Hawthorne. There’s no need for a lawyer; we just want to ask you a few questions.” My eyes dart to theirs. They have to give me a lawyer, don’t they?

“I want a lawyer,” I say without confidence. My heart beats louder in my chest. The weight of the situation comes down hard on my shoulders. I’m in the police station. Even if I don’t say anything, they’re going to know I was here. The
familia
will know. I close my eyes and for the first time in a long time I wonder if Vince will be able to save me.

If I don’t say anything, they won’t be mad at me, right? They can’t blame me for being taken here against my will. I stand up quickly, and the chair tips over behind me. I look at each of them as though they’ve cornered me. “I want to leave!” My body heats, and anxiety overwhelms me. A man walks in. He’s bald with bushy eyebrows, but he doesn’t seem old. Maybe it’s his broad build. His eyes are sharp, and his teeth are perfectly straight and white. He gives me a tight smile as he takes a seat across the table. He places his badge on the table.

“Hi there. Miss Hawthorne, I’m Detective Anderson, and I’ve been assigned to your case.”

“Hello,” I answer back.

“Try to calm down. We just have a few questions to ask, and then you can leave if you wish.”

“We’d like to make you a deal,” one of the female officers says. I forget her name. She told it to me, but I forgot. It all seems like a blur. The other woman picks up my chair and motions for me to sit. I sit down calmly and put my hands on my thighs. I stare at the table.

“We know you’ve been held against your will, Elle,” the sweet blonde who looks about my age says. It’s the first time she’s really spoken. She sounds kind and she puts her hands out for me to hold, but I don’t take it.

“I can’t imagine everything you’ve been through. But we’re here to help,” she adds.

“We know you were abducted by Vincent Valetti on Sunday, May 16
^th
.” How do they know that? As if hearing my unspoken question, the blonde answers. “You were seen being forcefully pushed into the trunk of his car.”

I feel shock first, then anger. I remember the unmarked white car I saw outside of my mother's place. They were watching me this entire time? Holy shit. They saw me being taken, and they did nothing!

“We need you to answer a few questions for us, and then we’ll be able to give you a way out of this, Elle.” I look at the man as he speaks. That’s why. Bastards.

As I stare between the three of them, all I can think is that I wish Vince was here.

Rule two: I don’t remember a damn thing, and I don't know what anyone is talking about. “I want a lawyer.”

“
W
e got you
, Vince. You want to give us your story now? You got anything you wanna work with?” Detective Anderson sits back in his seat with a smug look on his face. I’ve been sitting here for a good half hour, just biding my time while they make me sweat it out.

I stare back at him with my mouth closed. I’m not saying a damn thing until my lawyer gets here. And then I’ll be thanking them for their time and walking the hell out of here.

“Miss Hawthorne’s already given her statement. You’re going away for a long time Vince. The only way to ease up on your sentencing is to give us something. Something worth my while.”

“Not saying a word.” Cops will lie, cheat, and steal to get a statement. It hurts that she sold me out. But she’s only got shit on me and no one else in the
familia
. And what do I care if I go away anyway? It’s not gonna be the same, not after her. Not with her leaving me. My jaw tics and my fists clench. I wonder what she told them. I wanna know what my sweetheart really thought about me. About everything we went through together.

“She told us how you forced her into the trunk of your car and took her against her will.” Fuck! I feel a sharp pain in my chest, like he fucking stabbed me. I can’t believe she’d talk. Not my girl.

Even knowing she sold me out, I don’t regret it. I love the way she made me feel. Even if everything that was real between us was only on my end. I can’t stand the hurt in my chest. I fucking loved her. I still do. Tears prick at my eyes. I really thought she loved me. What a fucking idiot I was. I push down my emotions. They still aren’t getting shit from me.

He’s been babbling on with threats, but then he says something that rings clear in my ears. “She told us how you smacked her around and threatened her mother.”

The tightness in my chest fades as his words sink in.

I smirk at them. Fucking liars. They were doing real good, too. I thought they had me. My girl wouldn’t lie. I know she wouldn’t. And I never said a word about her mother.

“You charging me with anything, officers?” I cock an eyebrow.

“We’ll keep you in holding--” he starts threatening me, but I cut him off.

“And piss off my Pops as a result? How’s that restraining order faring on your record, Detective Anderson?” He'd better not have upset Elle, either. She hasn’t been through this shit before, so I can’t imagine what she’s feeling. “You better being treating my sweetheart good too. If you threaten her with anything, I’ll make sure you lose your fucking badge.”

Detective Anderson’s nostrils flare with anger, and he slams his fist on the table. He takes off and slams the door on his way out. I know they’ll keep me here for a bit longer. That’s fine. So long as she’s alright. My chest tightens with pain. The family knows she’s here, but they don’t know shit about her. A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. I need to get to a phone. I need to get out of here. I start feeling fidgety, sitting in this chair. I’ve been at the station before, but I’ve never felt like this. Never felt the need to get the fuck out immediately. But knowing Elle will be out soon? Knowing they’ll be waiting for her? I need to get out.