The Handyman: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bratva Dark Allegiance Book 3)

by Raven Scott

  “…Is that why she kicked you out over the holidays? She found out something you tried to keep from her?” Speaking up cautiously, I pursed my lips when Carlyle nodded firmly. I mean, who the fuck goes to Carl’s parent’s house for Thanksgiving, uninvited, knowing Malda and her boyfriend were there? The only logical thing was that Valerie stuck his ass in the doghouse, and he had nowhere to go, so he thought ‘might as well’.

  And, in the end, it worked out for him. Malda spilled her guts about everything she knew. Nothing she said came as a surprise to Carlyle, but it did solidify his stance to step back and let the Makovich destroy themselves.

  “I would argue that it’s the same situation, just in reverse. She found out after many, many years that her father was alive. That both her sister and I knew and kept it from her. He showed up in my hometown upstate— said he’d run into Natasha and wanted to talk to Valerie. He committed suicide a few days later. The point is that if you’re hesitating to spare Riley some heartache, it won’t work. All lies unravel eventually.”

  That did sound super ominous. But what could I say? Sorry? It all worked out in the end? I didn’t even know why Carlyle was in my car in the first place, but this conversation had more angles than the local gay bar. Jesus. “How do you fucking do that, huh? How do you know so much about every single little detail of everyone’s lives? How do you somehow manage to weaponize every word that comes out of your mouth? You know, Carlyle— I’ve known you for a long, long time, but I never really understood you, and I don’t know what the fuck is going on right now.” Reaching to rub my face roughly, I closed my eyes and rolled my jaw hard to pop the joints. I glanced over at him through my fingers.

  Carlyle’s laugh filled my car, and he tapped his knee. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be magic, would it?”

  Carlyle fucking Santino popped a joke at me! A joke!

  Smirking broadly, he stretched his long legs in the passenger seat, and his collar drooped to reveal the huge, startling tattoo crawling up his neck. “For once, Reece, I would like to talk to someone other than Carl and Theo about something besides business.”

  23

  Riley

  “Yes, I’m available to start Monday— of course.” Standing in the changing room, in just my underwear, I shivered as excitement prickled down my spine.

  On the phone, Vanessa’s clacking on her keyboard echoed above the blood drumming in my ear, but it vanished when she inhaled in preparation. “Awesome. I’ll email you the training schedule, but considering your experience, I’m not expecting it to take the full 30 days. When you come in for full time orientation, we’ll discuss your salary and your training performance and go from there.”

  We said our goodbyes, and my voice didn’t crack— not once!— as I hung up to stare at my phone screen.

  I got the job.

  I got the job!

  “Yes! Oh, my God! Yes!” Punching the air, I swished my hips as elation threatened to burst open my chest. My phone screen went black, reflecting my huge smile, and tiny tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “I got the job! I got the job!” Dancing around the disgustingly large changing room, I kicked my bare heel against the carpeted floor before the curtain flung open.

  Hannah squealed in excitement, rushing to hug me, and I bounced from excitement and pride.

  Sure— Reece got me an interview, but I fucking nailed it all by myself! Vanessa wouldn’t have put me straight into training if she didn’t think I was capable. How awesome was that!

  “Yay! Congratulations! We’re gonna get so drunk tonight!” Hannah pulled back to hold my shoulders to shake me. “Yeah! ♪You got the jo-ob! You got the jo-ob!♪”

  Reaching a trembling hand to swipe back my hair, I practically hyperventilated as emotion crowded my lungs. My cheeks ached from the fierceness of my smile, and I didn’t even care that I was mostly naked as I poked my head out to of the changing room.

  Delilah stared at me with green eyes bright with awkwardness.

  I tossed her a thumbs up. “You’re gonna party with us, right?”

  “Um— yeah. I’d love to.”

  Maybe Delilah feels like a third wheel. The thought was sobering, somewhat, and I gestured her into the changing room. She clearly felt out of place. I snatched a flowy, ocean blue shirt off the hanger as I wormed my head and shoulders in a little dance. “So, you know, Delilah…Why are you a model?” Mine was obviously the wrong question to ask, and the mood in the room changed drastically as I pulled the shirt over my head. When I could see again, I looked down at her.

  Delilah was frowning thinly as she sat down on the bench to clasp her hands in her lap with a sigh. “The truth is.,,I was approached one day and told that I could either quit my job and work for Carlyle’s lacky, or I could disappear until he got what he wanted.”

  My eyes widened in surprise, and my heart lurched as Hannah and I were shocked into silence.

  “I taught second grade in Los Angeles. I love kids. But then… I slept with the wrong guy, and then I made the mistake of doing it again. And again.”

  “That’s awful…” Hannah shuffled over to sit down and pat Delilah’s back.

  I rolled my lips between my teeth as sympathy washed down my sternum in powerful waves.

  Delilah had obviously made peace with the past, but now that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, she couldn’t just ignore it anymore. The lies she told herself all these years were unravelling even as she shrugged slightly. “I was able to finish out the year, at least. And, to be fair…I do love Darren. Every time I think of the future, he’s in it. It’s just the uncertainty of it all that gets me sometimes. Even when he does come home, it’s not like he’s exactly blue-collar. We talk all the time about it, but things are never as good as we think they’ll be.” Delilah sucked in a big breath, straightening her posture to flip her long, gorgeous hair over her shoulder. “I always tell him ‘no’ because I wanted him to stop asking. What’s the point of being more than just friends with benefits because he’s not around to make it serious?”

  “But he is coming back permanently, right? In a few months?”

  “He doesn’t know. He’s trying and I know that’s all I can really ask for, but…” Delilah sighed heavily

  Pursing my lips thinly, I turned to the mirror to watch her in the reflection. Emotion warred in my chest— I felt bad for Delilah, of course, but I got my job. I shouldn’t have asked her about her modelling. There was only one direction that conversation could go and it was down.

  Hannah finally spoke up, “Everything gets better. You know, every seven or so years, you’re an entirely new person, and you don’t even realize it. You’ve been with this guy for a while, right? So, it’s about time for a change.”

  I hummed softly in agreement with Hannah, training my gaze on myself as I held out my arms. This shirt came to my elbows and I liked the color.

  Hannah continued with optimism brimming her tone, “Yeah… it’s true. Eight years ago, I was engaged to a loser that could barely wipe his own butt, and here I am now, on my own, good job, great friends. . .”

  “Eight years ago, I was in…7th grade.” Giggling a little, I glanced back as Delilah and Hannah both laughed.

  Delilah nodded with a wave of her hand. “Yeah. Okay, I get it. And you know what? You’re right. Things are gonna change— for the better. Even if I have to break up with Darren, it’d be better than being strung along forever.” Delilah lloked deeply saddened by the idea but she was quick to wipe her expression before shooting me an apologetic, faux happy smile. “Congratulations on your job, Riley.”

  “Thanks. Don’t worry, we’re gonna get so drunk later and blast everyone in our lives who so much as looked as us wrong. It happens every time.”

  Her smile picked up a bit, became a little more genuine.

  I glanced over at the keep pile we’d made. “I don’t think we have to spend this whole gift card today. Besides, I don’t even know what I need to get rid of and I’m not gonna just
shove all my clothes in a donation bin without looking through them first.”

  “Ah— another good thing to do while drinking. I’m liking where this is going.” Hannah clapped loudly. “We should eat first, before we go back. I get a discount at my job, do you wanna go there?”

  Carefully taking off the shirt, I covered my chest as I reached for the clothes I’d come to this boutique in. “Sure.” Pulling my jeans up, I snatched my phone off the bench to shoot Reece a text.

  ‘We were thinking of grabbing something to eat. You okay with that?’

  Setting my phone down again, I fastened my jeans as quiet descended on the dressing room. Clearly, Delilah just had it rough, but I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d just disappear as abruptly as she’d entered my life. She seemed really nice despite the circumstances and I thought we could be friends if things were different.

  Of course, if things were different, we never would’ve met. Neither of us had said anything, but I got the feeling that Delilah felt the same. She was really alone and a very publicized celebrity, so friends for her were hard to come by. Scrambling into my shirt, I pulled my hair over my shoulder to tie into a loose ponytail and held back a sigh. Being famous was bad enough, but being forced to be famous is even worse.

  “Ready to check out? I’m just gonna put my socks and shoes on.” Hannah popped up, gathering up the clothes in the ‘keep’ pile to hang over her arm. She’s more excited to buy it than anything else.

  Once she was out and weaving through racks of clothes, I sat down to grab Delilah’s hand and squeeze. “It’ll all be worth it. I know it’s not a situation you want to be in, but Reece says Carlyle is a man of his word. He’ll let you have your happily ever after, Delilah.”

  “D-do you know how awful it is to need permission to have my ‘happily’ ever after?” Delilah stood up to shake her head, gazing at me with sad, green eyes. “It’s easy to forget that these people are murderers, torturers and terrorists, Riley. But that doesn’t mean they’re not. Your boyfriend has killed a lot of people. If you asked him, would he even be able to tell you how many? Just because he’s nice to you doesn’t mean he’s not a monster. At least I know what I’m getting into.”

  24

  Reece

  “All lies unravel eventually.” Carlyle’s words hung heavy against the backs of my eyes and I tapped my feet as I stared at the ceiling. My sofa was more uncomfortable than I remembered, but there wasn’t much I could do at the moment. I had three drunk as shit girls in my bed, but it’d be way too awkward to climb in with them compared to when there was just the one.

  Riley hadn’t had a sober moment, and I ended up sitting out in the hallway four times. She’d gotten the job with Vanessa and she deserved to party it up before starting when the weekend was over. By her own words, Riley didn’t drink a lot or often, a glass of wine here or there, but no beer and no hard liquor.

  But—holy shit did her neighbor have an iron gut. I doubted even Mateo could keep up with that blondie. In hindsight, I really should’ve agreed to partying at Riley’s place, but it didn’t matter after a few hours when they were too drunk to complain.

  “I’m gonna die.” Riley shuffled heavily to plop her firm ass in my lap. She reeked of alcohol, but her breath was minty fresh when she kissed my cheek. “Thank you.”

  “Sh-h…” Holding her forehead in my palm, I could feel her sweating through both our clothes. I’d gotten drunk as all Hell in this very same room recently, so the blue lightbulb in one of the lamp prongs was all that illuminated the room. Nimble, hot fingers played with the buttons of my shirt, and I rubbed her side with my free hand. “You okay?”

  “How many people have you killed for money?”

  Stiffening at the blatant question, I lifted my head to stare at Riley from under high brows.

  Her rosy cheeks puffed out, lips thinning. The slur in her tone could’ve been tiredness or alcohol, and her dark eyes were almost black from the blue light streaming from behind her.

  I couldn’t tell if she was still drunk. “Why do you want to know?”

  Puffing out her lips, Riley’s brows knit sharply at me.

  I inhaled deeply through flared nostrils. Crap. No getting out of this. “Eighty in eight years. About one a month, give or take.”

  “Oh.” Obviously, I’d surprised Riley by being able to give a number, and she blinked blearily at me.

  Of course, I had other jobs, other prerogatives more important than killing someone, but she hadn’t asked about that. I sure as shit wasn’t going to tell her of my own volition.

  “Like who?”

  “What kind of question is that? You don’t pay tens of thousands of dollars to have someone killed unless they wronged you. Sometimes, it’s a cheating or abusive spouse, or someone that fucked you over real bad. The reasons never matter. I just do my job, and I don’t care about the sob story. It’s not gonna get you a discount or anything.” I purposefully kept my voice low and soft, but heat pooled in my chest. Dread gnawed at my gut, my hands tingling as I swiped back Riley’s hair to cup her cheek. “If you ask me, I’ll answer, but make sure you won’t regret it, baby.”

  “I’m fine with the fact that you can give me a number.”

  Delilah must’ve said something. I scowled lightly at that thought, but the damage was already done, if there was any to begin with.

  Lifting her head to stare into my eyes, Riley shuffled a little deeper into my lap to wind her arms around my neck. “I love you. It doesn’t matter if it’s just right here on the sofa. I’m on here, and you’re on here, and we’re together.”

  “Riley…” My lips quirked up.

  Riley craned her neck to kiss me sweetly.

  The heat in my chest morphed into something softly warm and gentle— just like her. But I could taste the wine on her mouth, and I pulled back to lay Riley on the sofa to cover her up. “Go back to sleep. It’s not like I’ll go anywhere. This is my place.”

  My demand lowered her eyelids, but Riley had enough energy and mind to take my hand and lace our fingers. She smiled beautifully and a little lopsidedly.

  My heart grew full as I leaned to kiss her lips. In seconds, she was asleep again, leaving me with one question circling ruts into my brain.

  Would she remember this in the morning? I wasn’t sure which answer I wanted more. “You got deep under my fingernails, didn’t you?”

  Riley wasn’t awake to answer, her breaths deep and even.

  I pulled a duvet up over her shoulders. Working out from under her legs didn’t stir her at all, either. Stretching my arms over my head, I arched my back and bit down a groan. “We’ll see what happens when the sun comes up.”

  Riley, Delilah, and Hannah had loudly agreed that Friday was the day to sober up. Hannah had to work at 3:30, Riley was simply over being drunk, and the way they drunkenly decided on their reasons was what made it so funny. Gazing down at her, now, so peaceful and not crying or laughing hysterically, I captured her pinked face and calm expression.

  “Ah. . .” Running my hands up my face and through my hair, I squeezed the back of my neck between my palms. My phone started to vibrate in my pocket, as if Vanessa had some creepy sixth sense of my restlessness, and I shuffled around the sofa to head into the kitchen. “Hello?”

  “I figured it out—”

  Vanessa’s winded tone rose the hairs on my arms, and I leaned on the counter to cross my ankles and hold my cheek.

  “I found out why her information is all wonky. Riley’s her dad’s mistress’s kid, not her mom’s.”

  “What?” My voice cracked in shock, and I closed my eyes tightly to pinch the bridge of my nose. To some extent, I’d expected this, considering the warning Vanessa had given me, but to hear it as a certainty settled heavily on my shoulders. “What the fuck, Vanessa?” The air had been knocked from my lungs.

  “Yeah, Riley shares DNA with her father but not her mother. From everything I found, it seems like Riley’s father was just like, ‘hey-y so, I fo
und this baby somewhere, and you always wanted a girl, so let’s just pretend she’s ours’.” Drawling dramatically, Vanessa cleared her throat softly. “They had her as a home birth, falsified her information on her real documents, and as far as I can tell, Riley’s mother probably knew her husband was cheating on her. Since Riley’s biological mother and ‘adoptive’ mother have the same blood type, no one ever noticed.”

  “So, how do you know he didn’t just find a baby somewhere and be like ‘hey’?” Licking my lips, I rubbed my eyes and down my jaw to scratch my freshly shaven chin absently. My mind whirled too fast, beating against my forehead, and I inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. “Even if he did, what happened to the woman? The mistress?”

  “She was from a super religious household, and as far as I can tell, she died giving birth in a motel room. Dude took the baby and police didn’t find her for days until they got called about the smell.”

  How horrifying. A hard shiver jerked my shoulders at the nonchalance in Vanessa’s tone; I wasn’t sure which was worse— how easy she said all this shit, or that it was actually real and not some Law and Order episode.

  She went on in her casual way, “They gave up looking for the baby after the girl’s family made a huge stink of denial over it. So, I dug a little deeper, and wouldn’t you know…Riley’s dad got around a lot. I’m guessing that’s why her mom is such a bitch. I find it really hard to believe she didn’t know her husband was out getting 14-year old’s pregnant.”

  “What the fuck!” Clamping my hand over my mouth as my bellowing shout rampaged through my apartment, my eyes flew to the sofa. Blood drummed in my ears, and I held my breath as the seconds ticked by arduously slowly. When no one stirred, I slowly walked across the living room to shut myself in the bedroom. “What the fuck did you just say?”

  “She was 14. Not even in high school when she gave birth. I pulled up her picture and they look a lot alike. So, Riley’s mom is not her mom, but her dad is a pedophile and definitely her dad, and also, I just now received a text from Jerry. He’s got an IP address this time, which means—”