Monster: Made & Broken (A Mafia Bad Boy Romance) (23 page)

I wasn’t aware of the words I was slinging at him, nor the tears—I only felt the deep-seated hatred and anguish I’d carried for this man for so many years finally erupting in an explosion from the deepest, darkest part of my soul. I swung at him, breaking his nose, but before I could do any more damage a sharp kick to my side right where I’d been shot knocked me off him. I grunted from the searing agony and rolled several feet before I landed on my back, momentarily stunned from the pain.

Wesley’s face came into focus above me. He was holding a gun, aiming it at my chest. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice oddly businesslike. As if in slow motion I saw him release the safety, shaking his head as he did as if tutting at a disobedient child.

But before he could pull the trigger, Wesley froze, his eyes widening before they glazed over and he tipped backwards like a falling tree-trunk, the gun dropping limply from his hands. Two red holes sullied his dark-clad chest.

“
You all right?” One of the twins stood above me, a gun still in his hand. He reached the other down and pulled me up.

“
Evelyn?” I asked instead of answering, swirling around to look for her. My father’s estate had erupted into mayhem. Guns were firing all around us, making bullets fly and men groan, but there was no sign of my beloved. Nor Brigs.

“
Brigs got her. Inside,” my brother said, forcing me down to a crouch behind a plant pot. “We’ll get her, we just need a pla—
Marcus!”

I ignored his shout as I ran for the stairs, pulling my own gun out from my inner pocket as I dodged out of the way for Brigs’ men. When I got to the door one of them finally turned my way, gun aimed, but I got to him first. He fell to the ground with a bullet between the eyes, and so did the man inside who tried to take me down when I came crashing through the door.

Inside, the roar of the fire spreading through the house was deafening, and smoke was starting to seep through the cracks to the entryway.

I looked around, my pulse pounding so hard in my ears it nearly drowned out the crackling pops from the fire consuming my childhood home.
Where are you, Evelyn?

I saw the smoke billowing thicker from the left side of the house and bolted to the other end, running as fast as I could despite my wounds. If Brigs had her, he would be moving away from the worst of the fire, trying to buy himself more time as his men fought ours outside to clear a path for him.

I came to a stop when I tried to push through the kitchen door and found it locked.

Finally.

I kicked the door in, satisfaction surging through me as it flew off its hinges and shattered on the black and white tiles.

Brigs was standing against the far wall, his hand still clutched in Evelyn’s hair and the gun pointed up at her chin.

“
Well done on taking your father down, son,” he said, but the mocking smile on his lips was tense. “Now be a good kid and slide your gun over here and you can have your girl back.”

I pulled my lip up in a silent snarl, not taking my eyes off him.

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you really want to test me? It’s a stressful situation—my finger might just slip, and then pretty Evelyn won’t be so pretty anymore.”

Seething, I bent to slide my weapon across the floor toward him. I wanted to kill him more than I’d wanted to kill anyone since I saw Leo torture Evelyn, but I knew I had to restrain myself or she would pay for my mistakes.

Quick as a snake, Brigs bent to pick up my gun, releasing his hold on Evelyn. My heart gave a spasm of pent-up relief, but it was quashed the moment he turned my gun back on her, his own now aimed at me.

“
Ah, there we go. That’s
much
better,” he said, the coldness in his eyes flickering for something darker. “You stupid son of a bitch, did you really think I was going to simply give you back the girl who betrayed me? Who you murdered my nephew for? Love really does make you blind, huh? And dumb. No, this is how we’re going to do this…” He pushed Evelyn with the muzzle of my gun, making her stagger a foot to his side so he could keep her at arm’s distance. “You get to choose, Marcus. One of you can live. The other… I’ll shoot. So what’s it going to be? Your own life, or the traitorous slut you fucked while thinking about your mother? And before you answer, may I remind you that if you choose a noble death worthy of a Shakespearean tragedy, there’s the small matter of your father. With you gone, you think he’s going to let her live? The cunt who made his own son turn against him? Ah, decisions, decisions.”

“
Me. Kill me,” I said, not hesitating for more than a second. He was right about my father—he would take his fury with me out on Evelyn if I was not there to protect her, but I knew without a shadow of doubt that Blaine would take care of her. He would put her on a plane and she and her mother could live a happy life in America, forgetting all the horrors. Forgetting me.

“
Marcus,
no!”
Evelyn gasped, but Brigs only smiled his cruel smile, uncocking the gun trained on me.

I didn’t look at him, choosing instead to keep my gaze locked on Evelyn. Even now, with her face twisted in fear, she was so unbelievably beautiful. And for a short moment in time, she had been mine.

“
Goodbye, Evelyn,” I said softly, touching my hand to my heart.

But instead of despair, her expression changed into anger so fierce it looked foreign on her delicate face. Faster than I’d thought she could move, she swung around and grabbed the barrel of the gun trained on her with one hand, smacking Brig’s arm right in the elbow joint so hard I heard the crack from across the room.

He yelped, losing his grip on my gun as she ripped it from his numbed fingers and turned it around on him, holding it up with both hands.

He stared at her with his mouth open in shock, but she didn’t hesitate. The room rang with the sound of first one, then two, and finally three shots as she put three bullets in his chest and stomach.

Still with that shocked expression plastered across his now frozen face, he slid to the ground with a thud. Dead.

* * * *

Chapter 25

Evelyn

I’d never killed a man before.

Of all the horrible things I'd done in the past year and a half, killing hadn't been among them. I’d always thought that taking another human being’s life, however vile they were, would feel awful. But as I looked down at Brigs’ blindly staring eyes, I felt nothing but relief. The man who had made my life hell for so long was finally dead.

“Evelyn.” Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me away from the sight of the bleeding body on the floor. “Are you hurt, my love?”

“No,” I mumbled groggily, resting my head against Marcus’ shoulder. My body, apparently deciding that as long as he was there it no longer had to keep me upright, went limp with exhaustion as adrenaline slowly seeped out of me, and I sagged in his arms.

“Just hold on a little longer. We need to get out of the house,” he said, and awareness returned as the smell of smoke registered in my nostrils once more.

I forced my limbs to take most of my weight, but Marcus kept an arm around my shoulders as he guided us through the outer wall of the house, supporting my wobbly legs for every step. When we reached the back of the house, the heat was unbearable and the smoke was getting thicker.

“We have to get out now,” I coughed into my sleeve. My eyes stung and it was hard to see.

“Hold on,” Marcus grunted. “We’re at the back of the house now, less chance of getting shot.” He released my shoulders, and the next moment, I heard the sound of breaking glass.

“Come on, Evelyn,” he coughed, pulling on my coat. “Make sure you stick to the curtain.”

Through the slits of my eyes, I could see he’d smashed in a window and pulled a curtain down to place over the frame so we could climb out without cutting ourselves to shreds.

The cold air was like a slap to the face when I tumbled through the open window and landed in the flower bed underneath it. I rolled over onto my hands and knees and coughed until all I could feel in my lungs was air.

That’s when I noticed that Marcus was crouched next to me, gasping for air and holding his side, and a stab of fear shot through me, killing the momentary respite.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, reaching for him to try and find the source of his pain. He had to be all right. We hadn’t gone through all of this for him not to be all right

“No,” he managed to choke out. “Bastard kicked me in the side, burst some stitches. I’m fine.”

He didn’t look fine, but when he drew in a final, deep breath before moving into a crouch, some of my initial panic settled.

“We need to get out of here,” I said, looking out from behind the large rosebush we were hiding behind. There weren’t any combatants in this part of the garden, but shots were still being fired from the front part of the estate.

Marcus nodded. “Yeah, we—” His voice cut off abruptly as two shadow moved around the corner in a low run, and Marcus fumbled in his pocket for his gun—the gun still lying on the kitchen floor inside the burning building. Cursing, he pressed me back with his body, physically shielding me from the approaching figures.

“Marcus?” a low hiss sounded, and my heart skipped a beat from pure relief.
Blaine.

“It’s us,” Marcus confirmed, his protective stance in front of me relaxing as he got to his legs. Seconds later I could make out both Blaine’s and one of the twins’ faces in the dark as they stopped in front of us.

“You both all right?” Blaine asked, eyes roaming over both his brother and my huddled-up form.

“Never better,” I muttered.

“Brigs?”

“Dead,” Marcus said, glancing at me, but he didn’t elaborate. “Dad?”

“Still fighting, along with Louis. We’ve almost got them all now. It’s a matter of minutes, so you two need to come with us. Right now. If Dad finds you, you’re both dead.”

* * *

When I got out of the shower attached to the small hotel room Blaine had driven us to, Liam was in the final stages of stitching up Marcus’ wounds, both men sitting on the bed while Blaine was messing with his phone by the room’s single window.

“There,” Liam said as he wrapped a clean bandage around Marcus’ torso. “That should keep you from bleeding out the second the plane takes off, but you’re gonna want to find a doctor when you land.”

Marcus grunted noncommittally, and Liam turned his eyes on me. “If he doesn’t do it, poke him in the side wound. A nice, hard jab should make him plenty compliant, yeah?”

I grimaced, but Liam just winked at me, his eyes sparkling with mischief despite the serious situation.

“Louis’s managed to send Dad to Gatwick looking for you two, but it won’t be long before he’ll have freed enough men from dealing with Brigs to spread them to Heathrow, too,” Blaine said as he shoved his phone in his pocket and walked over to us, handing us each a ticket. “Your new flight leaves in a couple of hours, but Liam and I will need to get back to deal with Dad, lest he thinks we’re revolting. Have you still got everything else Rob gave you, Evelyn?”

I nodded.  “I took out a lock box at the airport.”

“Clever girl.” He offered me a small smile before his focus switched to Marcus, his smile fading. “I’ll be in touch when it’s safe to come home.”

Marcus nodded, placing his hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Anything for family,” Blaine said softly, squeezing Marcus’ shoulder in return. “Be safe.”

“And you.”

“Always.” Blaine nodded at me, giving his brother one final look before he walked out of the hotel room. Liam didn’t say anything, but he pulled first me and then Marcus into a tight hug before he followed Blaine out, shutting the door behind him.

I looked up at Marcus, clutching the ticket in my hands. “You’re coming with me, right?”

He nodded, but the look of guilt on his face took away the rush of relief. “I’m sorry, Evelyn.”

“For what?” I asked, genuinely baffled. Somehow, against all odds, we’d both made it out alive, and he was
sorry?

“Everything,” he said softly. “I wanted to give you a new life, a free life. I never wanted you to experience a night like this.”

I shook my head and turned so I could press myself against his body. He stiffened, as if he didn’t know what to do.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. We’re together—that’s all that matters.”

Marcus shook his head. “No, Evelyn. We’re not. I can’t…”

I gaped up at him as his voice trailed off, but instead of the expected pang of hurt, only anger bloomed in my chest.

“You can’t what? Be with me? Love me? What, exactly, is it you think you can’t, Marcus?”

He cringed and looked away from my fury. “You deserve so much better. I
hurt
you. I…”

I grasped him by the chin and pulled his face back so he couldn’t look away. “Now you listen to me, Marcus Steel. What I deserve is to be
happy.
And loved. And for that to happen, you need to get over whatever it is you think is wrong with you so we can be together. I need you, don’t you get it?
You.
You haven’t hurt me, and you never will hurt me. All you’ve done, from the moment we met, is protect me and care for me. And all I want is to protect and care for you, too. I know we were meant to be together, with every part of my soul. So stop fighting it because you’re afraid.”