Kissing the Killer: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Barone Crime Family) (9 page)

He gradually slowed his pace and then finally collapsed onto the bed next to me. I lay there on my stomach, panting, each of us drenched in sweat.

“How was that for a first fucking time?” he asked, laughing.

“I can’t even think,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve ever come like that before.”

He took the condom off and wrapped it in some tissues. “That’s what I can fucking do to you,” he said, kissing my forehead before getting up. I stared at the muscles rippling down his body as he walked into the bathroom and threw away the tissues.

He climbed back into bed with me, pressed against my body. He wrapped his arms around me, and for the first time since I’d seen his gun pointed at my face, I felt safe from the world.

Everything that had happened even just a half hour ago was forgotten. Brooks held me in his arms, our sweating bodies pressed together, and I felt right.

I felt like I had finally found where I needed to be, at least for a little while.

T
he sheets were covered
in sweat and Emma was sleeping next to me as I stretched out and sighed. I watched Emma’s chest rise and fall and could feel her tight, wet pussy wrapped around my cock all over again.

I’d been wanting that since the second I fucking saw her, but I was the type of man that needed a woman to want it badly before I finally made her come, over and over.

There was still a problem in the other room, a problem I didn’t have a solution for. I could get rid of the body easily enough, but Abram’s disappearance was going to be noticed. Dante had sent him to look after me, which meant I was going to be at the top of Dante’s suspects list.

He already wasn’t happy with me. I couldn’t afford to have him looking too closely at me, at least not any more closely than he already was. But now that Abram was dead, I was positive that Dante was going to put more men on me, and soon.

My choices were getting more and more limited by the day. I was beginning to feel trapped, and I fucking hated feeling trapped. I needed to get some space to figure this shit out, but it just kept piling on.

I stared at Emma, anger rolling through me. I couldn’t let these bastards kill her. That was true when I first saw her, but even more true now.

She was more like me than she realized. She had a fucking shitty life, abused by her father, lost her mother young, barely had any real experiences. And yet she survived it. Despite her father beating the shit out of her, she survived it. She was resilient and strong and beautiful, and all of that made me want her so much more.

But on top of all that, she had a fire deep down inside her. I saw it every time she looked at me, that look so filled with anger and pain. That was the same fire I had inside me, angry with this fucked-up world that had let us down so many times before.

I’d seen many, many women like her in my time. Many of them were bruised and broken, not strong enough to really survive or to keep their fire burning. But Emma was more than strong enough. She was an inferno all on her own.

Where I turned into a killer to save myself, she managed to find a way that preserved her innocence. I had none left, but I was willing to do whatever it took to keep her alive, because I needed whatever she had left.

As I sat there thinking about my options, I heard a really strange noise coming from under the bed. It sounded like a grinding gear mixed with a beeping phone.

And it was loud as hell.

Emma stirred. “What’s that?” she muttered.

“Go back to sleep,” I said. “I’ll handle it.”

I got out of bed and looked underneath it. I saw my laptop there, every light on it going crazy, flashing all over the place. The sound was coming right from it as I grabbed the computer and carried it into the other room.

I glanced at Abram’s body but decided to keep ignoring it. I sat down on the couch and opened the lid, grumbling to myself. I hated technology and sucked at it. The only technology I had any mastery of was my gun. I was a primitive man, through and through.

In place of the usual password screen, it was all black. The beeping suddenly stopped, and I sighed in relief.

But something started happening. Text appeared on the screen, green text on the black background.

“Hello, Brooks.”

I stared at the screen, surprised. I’d never seen anything like this before. Frankly, I barely ever used the thing, and I was pretty sure I never used my real name on anything.

I tried to shut it off. I held down the power key, but nothing happened. Next, I shut the lid, but that just started that horrible beeping again.

I grumbled and opened the lid again. The message was just sitting there.

I decided to answer. “Stop making that fucking noise and fuck off,” I typed back, grinning to myself.

The answer came back right away. “Sorry about that, Brooks, but we needed to get your attention.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

The answer was a bit slower this time. “You call us the Spiders. We’ve been watching you, Brooks.”

“Oh fuck,” I said out loud, standing up. My laptop clattered to the floor. I shut the lid and it started beeping again. Emma appeared at the bedroom door.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I grunted as I went into the kitchen. I found my hammer under the sink and walked over to the laptop. Emma watched from the doorway as I smashed the laptop to little pieces.

That made the fucking noise stop.

“What was that all about?” she asked when I was done.

I collapsed onto the couch. “Some fucking assholes trying to be funny,” I said.

There were maybe a few seconds of peace and quiet before I heard that same noise again coming from the bedroom.

“What the fuck,” I said, standing up.

Emma went into the room and came back with my phone. “It’s this,” she said, holding it out. “I think someone is calling.”

“Mother fuckers.” I took the phone from her and answered it. “Fuck off,” I said.

“Please, Brooks,” came a woman’s voice, vaguely familiar. “You should talk to them.”

I paused. “Who is this?”

“You don’t know my name, but I know yours. Do you remember the night, not so long ago, when you were shot?”

“Which fucking time?” I grumbled.

“Twice, in the chest, by the Spiders.”

“I remember.”

“You let me escape. You told me to run, and I didn’t believe you. It wasn’t until they got closer that I listened and took all the girls with me.”

“It’s you,” I said softly, recognizing her voice now. It was the girl I let go that night, the one who spoke English.

“Listen to what they have to say, Brooks,” she said.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Just listen.”

“Fine,” I said. “Okay. Put them on.”

The line went silent for a minute. Emma was looking at me like I’d gone insane.

Then a voice spoke. It wasn’t human, or at least it didn’t sound human. Whoever was speaking was using some kind of voice program to make them sound like a robot with an incredibly deep, booming voice.

“Hello, Brooks,” the voice said. “I’m glad you decided to listen.”

“Talk fast,” I said, “because I don’t have time for bullshit right now.”

“Is he dead?”

I paused as a bolt of shock ran through me. I looked around, suddenly feeling like I was being watched.

“Who?” I asked.

“Abram. Is he dead?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Brooks, I thought you said you didn’t have time for bullshit?”

“Are you watching me?”

“Yes and no. We’ve been watching him watch you, and we saw him enter your apartment. He has been there for some time now. We suspect you killed him.”

I didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, it was obvious that Abram was dead. On the other, I didn’t know these people. I didn’t know if I could trust them or what they wanted from me. I usually didn’t want to help out people who watched me from the shadows.

But that girl had told me to listen. I’d saved her life, and I couldn’t imagine she held any ill will toward me. If anything, I imagined she’d want to try to do right by me.

“He’s dead,” I said.

“Shame,” the voice answered. “Though I can’t say I’m upset. Abram was one violent, disgusting piece of shit.”

“Can’t say I disagree, but why is it a shame?”

“Because the mafia is going to be onto you sooner or later. I’m sure you worked that out for yourself though.”

“I did, yeah.”

“We can help you, Brooks.”

“Why the fuck would you help me?”

“Because we know who you are and what you’ve done. We know you let these girls go when that went against your best interests. We know you haven’t killed Emma yet, and I don’t think you’re going to.”

I stared at Emma, completely knocked off balance.

How the fuck did the Spiders know this much? They must have been following me from the very start if they could have figured out this much. But why? I’d barely had any interactions with the Spiders. As far as I could tell, I’d never killed a Spider or even had to fight one.

I couldn’t figure out what the fuck this person wanted from me. I had nothing to offer them as far as I could tell. I wasn’t particularly well connected and wasn’t that high up in the ranks. Sure, I was a talented killer, but I wasn’t a boss.

“Tell me what you want,” I said, “and tell me right now, or else I take Emma and we disappear.”

“I don’t doubt you’re capable of that, Brooks,” the voice said, “but please just listen carefully.”

“Start talking,” I said, annoyed.

“Brooks, your people call us the Spiders, but that isn’t how we see ourselves. Think back to what you’ve heard about us. What has been our main target?”

“Slave trade,” I said. “You’ve been hitting the girl trade.”

“That’s right. Brooks, we’re a group dedicated to protecting those who can’t protect themselves. We’ve heard about you. We’ve heard about the killer who doesn’t hurt women. We thought they were just rumors until little Natasha here told us about you letting her go. And when we didn’t see Emma come out of your apartment in little pieces, we began to suspect that you feel the same way we do.”

“You don’t fucking know me,” I said, “and I don’t know you.”

“You’re right. You don’t know us. That’s a problem that I’d like to solve. I’d very much like to meet you, Brooks.”

“You want to meet me?” I asked, trying not to smile. “Seems like a bad fucking deal for me.”

“We want to help you with Emma. We can offer you protection, resources, options. We can do much more for you than you could ever do alone. All I ask is one short meeting, face to face. You can pick the time and place.”

I leaned up against the wall, thinking fast. Letting me choose the time and the place was a good move on their part. It made me feel more comfortable, but it didn’t really matter considering they were a gang and I was just one man.

Still, what they were saying made sense. I’d only ever heard of them attacking the human trafficking rings so far. I’d assumed they were stealing the girls and selling them, but I’d never actually heard of the girls showing back up anywhere else. As far as I could tell, they just disappeared.

What if they really were helping these women?

“You come alone,” I said. “One person. We’ll meet tomorrow afternoon at one. There’s a little lunch cart outside the museum, real busy around that time. You meet me there.”

“Okay, Brooks, but you need to bring the girl.”

“What?”

“Bring the girl. She’ll be safe, but she’s going to want to hear this, too.”

“No. She stays behind. No way I’m bringing her into this.”

“She needs to choose for herself.” Suddenly the phone went on speaker. “Emma, come with Brooks tomorrow. You should be allowed to speak for yourself.”

She blinked at me. “Who is this?” she asked.

“Someone who wants to help you.”

“You fucking cock,” I said.

“See you tomorrow, Brooks.”

I threw the phone onto the ground, grabbed the hammer, and smashed it into tiny pieces.

Emma kept staring at me, confusion on her face. “What the hell was that, Brooks?”

I sighed. “That was a fucking murderous and dangerous gang of people. Apparently they want to help us.”

She cocked her head. “Why did that person say I needed to make up my own mind?”

“I don’t know, but they want to meet with me tomorrow, and they want you to come.”

She chewed her lip. “You don’t seem to think it’s a good idea.”

I walked over toward her. “Listen, Emma. I don’t want to put you in any danger. Understand?”

“But they can help us.”

“Maybe. We don’t really know what they want.”

“Are you going to go meet them?”

“I was before they pulled this shit.”

She frowned at me, shaking her head. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you think that, but these are the people who shot me. Remember when I came home with two bullets to the chest?”

Her frown deepened. “I remember, but why would you meet them?”

“Because one of the girls I let go that night told me to, and for some stupid fucking reason, I trust people after I’ve saved their life.”

She stepped toward me. “Okay then. I’m coming.”

“No.”

“You saved my life, Brooks. Now let me help.”

“No, Emma.”

She shook her head and turned away. “Don’t fight me on this. I’m coming tomorrow and that’s it. We can spend all night going back and forth, or we can get ready.” She disappeared back into the bedroom.

Fuck if my cock wasn’t hard as fucking hell. I couldn’t believe the balls on that woman. It was a very, very stupid idea to bring her along, but I had to admit that her fire kept impressing me over and over again.

And she was right. If she wanted to come, she was going to come no matter what I said. She wasn’t a fucking prisoner.

I knew I should fight harder. I knew I should convince her that the best thing was for her to stay.

Instead, I began to unroll trash bags, ripping them open to make long sheets. I stuck them under Abram’s body and slowly wrapped him up. Once I was done, I tied the whole thing together with some string.

Once Abram’s body was wrapped up, I walked back into the bedroom. Emma was already sleeping when I got into bed next to her.

Exhaustion rolled through me. Even though I wanted to fight it, wanted to wake her up and convince her not to come, I found myself nodding off.

Maybe at least I’d get to dream of my cock slipping into her soaked pussy, of the look on her face as she came hard on my big cock.