by Hamel, B. B.
He drops down to the ground. Celine’s gun runs out of bullets.
I get up. My arm’s bleeding, but the bullet went through the muscle. I can feel the exit wound.
I run over to Celine. “Are you okay?”
She nods, eyes wide. She’s staring at Marcus.
I take the gun from her gently. “You did good,” I say.
“Is he…?”
I look over at Marcus. “Turn away, Celine.”
She obeys me. She’s a good girl.
I turn and walk over to Marcus. I check his pulse and find nothing.
I gently close his eyes and stand.
“Dead,” I say.
Celine lets out a low moan. “I killed him.”
I turn to her and walk quickly to her side. I catch her before her knees give out.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’ve got you, little Celine. You did so good, so, so good. I love you so much, Celine.”
She presses her face against my chest. “I love you too.”
“You did so good,” I whisper, over and over, until she calms down.
This was Marcus’s fatal flaw. He didn’t trust anyone or anything. He couldn’t imagine that I’d give my gun to Celine and put my life in her hands. He couldn’t imagine that she’d risk herself to kill him before he could kill me.
He couldn’t imagine he’d get beaten by trust.
I kiss her softly, running my fingers through her hair. I love this girl, love her more than I ever dreamed. She’s so strong, so incredibly strong, and together…
We’ll be unstoppable.
16
Celine
Two Years Later
I stretch and walk over to the windows, throwing them open and looking out at the city.
Buildings stretch out in front of me in all directions. Huge buildings, some of them old, most of them new. The park is to the west, the city to the east. It’s the most beautiful view I’ve ever had.
I watch New York City slowly wake up. I flex my fingers, feeling the heavy diamond ring I’ve been wearing since I married Dawson a year ago, wondering idly how things turned out this way.
It started so innocently. I went home with a man, hoping to start a new chapter. It really started with a body.
After Marcus, we left Pine Grove. Dawson figured getting away with one murder would be hard enough, let alone two. So we drove east, and Dawson planned the whole way out.
I smile to myself. Those were innocent times. Fun times, really. We stayed in crappy motels, fucked almost constantly, stopped wherever we wanted. We got lost a few times just for fun.
But when we got to the city a week later, well, the hard work started.
There’s a knock at the door, pulling me from my thoughts. I walk over and tug it open.
Dawson smiles in at me. He looks tired, sweaty, and there’s blood on his shirt.
“Hello, darling,” I say to him.
“Morning, love. Did you sleep okay?”
“I did. How’s our little problem?”
He makes a face. “All over my fucking shirt.”
I laugh and let him into our room. He strips off the bloody shirt and tosses it into the sink in the bathroom. I follow him and put my arms around him, feeling his muscular chest. My lips kiss his arm over the scar he got the night I killed Marcus.
He smiles and kisses me over his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he says. “We’re all whole.”
“Good. Omar, too?”
“Omar is fine, as always. You know that man is bulletproof.”
“So they tell me.”
He turns and kisses me hard. I push him back against the sink. He grunts and smirks at me, pulling me closer by the hair.
“You were right,” he says to me. “Hit them hard and fast. That was the key.”
“Told you.” I gasp as he tightens his grip.
“You really are the brains behind this operation, aren’t you?”
I smirk and kiss him. We hold that for a while, his hand in my hair, holding tight. Passion flares through me, but I push it back.
Dawson’s exhausted. I need to let him sleep. I can wake him and get what I need in a few hours.
I break off the embrace. “Are you excited for tonight?” I ask, changing the subject.
He shrugs a little and starts the shower. “I suppose.”
“It’ll be fun. A big gala, celebrating our one-year wedding anniversary.”
He rolls his eyes. “One year. Big deal.”
I glare at him. “It is a big deal. It’s also the anniversary of you taking back control of your organization.”
“And killing a bunch of thieving, backstabbing bastards.” He grins at me. I blow him a kiss.
He gets into the shower and I lean up against the wall. “Did you ever think it would end up like this?” I ask.
“No,” he says honestly. “I knew my worst enemy was dead with Marcus, and I knew I could probably get some control back. But this…” He shrugs a little.
When we came to the city, Dawson contacted his people. Some of them weren’t so happy to see him, but others welcomed him with open arms. He entered the organization again, not at the top, not yet at least.
We planned. Together, we worked and we planned and we fucked. Then we got married, and during our wedding, we murdered every bastard that crossed him.
After that, it was easy. He took control of the organization. Now we call it the Sparks Family, and we run it all together.
I don’t know how I went from a nice, sweet, innocent virgin to the head of a drug-dealing mafia family, but here I am.
I know what they say about me. They call me the Viperess, a vicious bitch, all that. They say I’m the brains and he’s the brawn.
Really, we’re both the brains. And he doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty.
I decide to undress and join him in the shower. He smiles and kisses me. We stay like that for a while, teasing each other, smiling, happy, together.
I know our story doesn’t end here. We have a life together, a dangerous life, but I love it. I can’t imagine having anything of this without Dawson, and I can’t imagine having anything less.
Being with him lets me have so much more. It lets me be so much more.
He brings the best out of me. I’m as strong as he says I am, and maybe stronger.
I love my man. He demands a lot from me, but I live up to every expectation. He taught me everything, and I owe him my life.
One day, we’ll have children. We’ll have a family.
But always, we’ll have this, our life, our love. My Dawson, my man.
I couldn’t be happier than here in his arms, trusting him, being as strong as I can be.
THE END
* * *
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His Secret: Pine Grove Book 3
1
Emma
The man behind the wheel lights a cigarette and blows his smoke out the window. “Pine Grove, huh?” he grunts at me.
I shrug a little bit, watching the woods flash by in the dark. I catch glimpses of the forest all over the place, hemming in the road like barriers on either side, ghostly in the headlights.
“You know anyone in town?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
He’s quiet for a second. I glance in his direction and quickly look away. He’s older than me, probably in his thirties, and getting a l
ittle heavy as he ages. His eyes are squinty and dark and his flannel shirt has a stain on the right elbow, like he leans on something all day long. He looks like a football player getting old, a big guy shoved into a little seat, and he makes me uncomfortable.
But I needed the ride. He was the only person that stopped to pick me up. I’ve been walking along the road for almost an entire day, and I was about ready to give up and sleep in the damn woods again when he pulled over and offered me a lift.
“Why Pine Grove?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I saw it on a map and thought…”
“That it’d be a good place to disappear?”
I smile at him. “Yeah. I guess so.”
He sighs and doesn’t look at me. “Listen, you’re not the first one, you know? Pine Grove’s right smack dab in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere, so everyone thinks it’s perfect. But it’s far from perfect.”
A strange chill runs down my spine. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
He glances at me. “You’ll see, I guess.”
I frown and look away from him. I’ve been getting a weird vibe from him ever since he picked me up, but I can’t refuse a ride. If I can get into town, at least I might have a chance of finding something to eat or maybe even a bench to sleep on.
My stomach rumbles again and I know I need to get something in me soon. I haven’t eaten in over a day now, actually closer to two days. My head feels light and I know I’m running low on strength, but I’m desperate.
I’m not turning back. I’d rather starve to death than turn back.
We drive in silence for another half hour. I watch the trees slowly thin out until we turn into town, and he heads down the main, deserted street into Pine Grove.
“Here it is,” he finally says. “Got a destination in mind?”
I shake my head. “Not really.”
He grunts and pulls the car over. We’re in the middle of a commercial area, lots of shops and stuff, but no people around, no cars.
“Here’s as good a place as any. You got any money or a place to stay?”
I shrug. “I’ll be fine.”
He stares at me, and his gaze is hard. “Come here. I’ll give you some money if you’re nice to me.”
I grab the handle of the door and fling it open before he can hit the lock button on his side. He curses and fumbles for me as I jump out of the car.
“Bitch,” he grunts at me.
I throw my bag over my shoulder and flip him off as I walk as fast as I can away from his car.
For a second, I think he might follow. Instead, I hear his tires peel off down the road, and the car disappears into the night.
I turn a corner and sigh. I lean up against a wall, heart hammering in my chest.
That’s not the first time I’ve felt unsafe while hitchhiking across the country, but that’s the first time someone actually tried anything. Fucking hell, I knew that guy was weird, but…
I sigh and grab the strap of my backpack. I have some clothes in there, nothing clean at this point, my wallet with my ID and nothing else, and that’s pretty much it. I sold anything of value a while back and now I’m basically just praying for something to work out.
I don’t know what I’m doing here. I have no plan, no hope, no money, nothing. I’m homeless, a freaking runaway. I don’t know a thing about the world. I’m absolutely pathetic.
My stomach rumbles. Well, I may be pathetic, but I’m also freaking starving.
I stumble along the street, heading in a random direction. Ahead, there’s a crosswalk, and a convenience store is standing alone in a parking lot surrounded by tall hedges. I cross toward it and hesitate just a second before sneaking around toward the back.
I’m not really thinking about it. I’m just moving. I’m so hungry, I don’t care at this point if I’m breaking the law. I need food, and there’s nothing else around, nothing open, no people to help, nothing. Just this crappy convenience store.
At least it’s full of food, even if it’s all junk.
I sneak around the back and find the door. I walk up to it, figuring it’ll be locked. I don’t have a plan for what I’ll do, but as soon as I grab the handle, it pulls open easily.
I don’t stop and think about why the back door might be unlocked. It doesn’t occur to me that maybe, just maybe, I shouldn’t go inside. I mean, places like this lock the back door at night. Especially when it’s half past two in the morning.
But I don’t think about it, of course. I’m too hungry to think about it.
I stumble inside. This is so stupid, so reckless, and it’s not me. I’m not a thief, I don’t steal things, I don’t break into stores just to grab food. I was brought up to be a good person. I had it beaten into me, over and over, mercilessly, that I have to be a good person no matter what.
Fuck being a good person if it means also being a hungry person.
I stumble down a short hallway. I step in something slick and nearly slip but catch myself on the wall. It’s really dark and my eyes haven’t totally adjusted yet as I come up toward the main body of the store.
I hear a weird sound up ahead. I stop, frozen in my tracks, just in the entrance to the left of the register.
It’s a moan. I hear it again, definitely a moan, a freaking human moan.
I see someone move, something scrape against the floor. One figure stands up, looking down.
“Sorry, Kaleb,” the standing man says.
There’s another groan, another person. I think it’s coming from the floor.
The standing man raises something. My heart stops suddenly.
The gun goes off, like an explosion in the small space.
I stumble backwards. The moaning stops.
“Asshole,” I hear the man with the gun say. He lowers it and slips it into his jeans. I don’t get a good look at him, and I don’t really care. At this point, I just want to run.
But my legs aren’t working. They aren’t moving. I should be sprinting away, running as fast as I can, but I’m totally frozen.
The guy sighs. He kneels down and does something I can’t see, something to the body I’m pretty sure is lying at his feet.
When suddenly there are sirens in the distance.
“Shit,” the guy curses, standing. “Hit an alarm, didn’t you, asshole?” The guy sighs and turns in my direction.
I need to run. I need to get out of there.
He moves in my direction and stops. His eyes meet mine. I don’t know him, never seen him before right now, but he has dark hair, a handsome face, bags under his eyes.
He cocks his head. “Who the fuck are you?”
I don’t have time to answer. The sirens get closer, really close now, and he curses. He runs past me, pushing me aside. He tries to grab my wrist, fumbles for something, but I kick him as hard as I can. My foot slams into his crotch and he gasps.
I kick him again and he stumbles away, back toward the door. I flatten myself against the wall as he runs away, bursting outside and into the night.
I stand there, alone in the building as the cop car finally arrives. It screams into the parking lot and I hear one door open then close.
I know I need to run. Finally, my legs start working again, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I hurry to the door and push my way out.
And I run directly into a cop.
“Stop,” the guy says, grabbing me, “hold on.”
I wrestle with him, but he’s strong. He’s twice my size, muscular, his grip like iron as he grabs my wrists and lifts me up off the ground.
“Holy shit, calm down,” he says. “What the hell is happening?”
I struggle to get away. I know what this looks like. I need to get away before he goes in there, before he sees.
“I didn’t do it,” I say. “I swear to god. It was the other guy!”
“What other guy?” he asks. “Calm down and talk to me, miss.”
I finally stop struggling. He slowly lowers me down and takes a half step bac
k.
I turn and look into his startlingly green eyes. He’s handsome, gorgeous actually. I didn’t expect him to be so freaking attractive, and for a second, I’m taken aback. He’s in his forties, gray highlights in his otherwise black hair. He’s wearing a police uniform, his right hand on the gun at his hip.
“Someone…someone’s dead,” I manage to say.
His face clouds over. “Where?”
I point back to the building. “In there.”
He stares at me. “And there’s someone else?”
“He’s running,” I say. “That way.” I point in the direction I saw the guy head toward, although I have no clue where he is now.
The cop frowns at me. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
“I’m… Emma,” I manage.
He sighs and grabs my wrist. “Come on,” he says.
I stumble along behind him. “No, stop,” I say, struggling again. “Let me go.”
He half turns back to me. “If you don’t stop fighting, I swear to god I’m going to carry you. Show me the body.”
I hesitate for a second and he yanks me forward. We stumble back into the building.
He turns a flashlight on. There’s red on the floor, something dark and sticky.
It’s blood.
He curses. “Where?” he says, his voice more urgent.
“In there.”
He pulls me behind him. I can see where I stepped in the blood, where I left footprints. We hurry back into the store and we go through the aisles until we find the body.
Blood everywhere. His head broken into pieces.
The cop curses and grabs his radio. “Dispatch, this is Rhett. We got a body at The Fast Fresh. Over.”
“Chief, seriously? A body?” The voice on the other end of the radio is male and sounds young.
“Yeah, dumbass. Wake everyone. Over.”
The man sighs and turns away. He grabs me tighter. “You’re coming with me.”
“What?”
He tugs me along behind him again. We head back out and into the night.
“Officer, wait, wait, wait. I didn’t do that back there. I don’t… I don’t even have a gun.”