Wife For Him: A Possessive Mafia Romance

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Wife For Him: A Possessive Mafia Romance Page 5

by B. B. Hamel


  The stash house was an old brick Victorian barely five minutes off UPenn’s campus. I parked out front and popped the trunk then waited.

  Cora frowned out the window as two frat guys with backpacks and Gamma Alpha Whateverthefuck t-shirts strolled past.

  “What are we doing?”

  “Waiting.” I checked my phone for messages.

  “Thanks, asshole. For what?”

  “You’ll see.”

  She grunted. I knew she was annoyed, but whatever, I could have a little fun.

  A few minutes after parking, Lonnie came down with a big purple tote bag. He tossed it into the trunk then slammed it shut before coming around to my side and patting the roof.

  “All set.”

  “How much in there?”

  “Two pounds, give or take.”

  “Give or take?” I frowned at him. “You know weight’s gotta be—”

  “It’s two pounds.” He gave me his crooked grin and poked his big nose into the car. “Hey, you’re the wife.”

  Cora gave him an odd look. “And you must be one of my husband’s associates.”

  Lonnie cackled. “Yeah, right, associate. Good one.”

  “Lonnie’s a drug-dealing scumbag.”

  He nodded and grinned bigger. He was missing a couple molars from his meth days. “But a lovable scumbag, if I do say so myself.”

  “Thanks for the bag, Lon. I’ll be back in an hour.”

  “Adios, boss.” He headed back inside without another word.

  “So that’s what we’re doing.” She spoke low as I put the car into gear and pulled into traffic. College kids wandered on the sidewalk heading to class and traffic got tighter as I wound my way around campus.

  “That’s what we’re doing,” I confirmed.

  “I thought you’d have guys who do this for you.”

  “I do.”

  “Then why are we driving around with a trunk full of drugs?”

  I chewed on that for a second and wasn’t sure how to answer. There were a lot of reasons I could give her, but in the end only one really mattered.

  “I’m a hands-on kind of guy.”

  She sighed. “Right. Sure. Of course. Hands on with your drug dealing.”

  “I want my crew to see me every day. I want them to know that I’m in the shit with them, even if they’re the ones risking themselves more than I am.”

  She gave me a look, but it wasn’t angry or resentful or even pissed off. She seemed genuinely curious, and as I pulled up to the light, I gave her my best smile.

  She rolled her eyes again and looked away.

  I drove around West Philly for a while, not doing much of anything, before I cut back over a bridge and headed south again. I stopped at a house a few blocks off Passyunk and another guy came out. He opened the trunk himself, took the purple tote, and disappeared back inside with a wave.

  “That’s it?” she asked.

  “That’s it.” I leaned back in the seat.

  “Now what?”

  “Now we wait for a while and let them do their thing. If the weight’s good, they’ll come out with money, and then we’ll leave. If something’s wrong, they’ll try to kill us.”

  She stared at me. “Wait, what?”

  “Oh, sorry, I guess I didn’t say. We’re selling that shit right now.”

  She turned to me and took a deep breath. “You mean this is a drug deal? Those aren’t your guys?”

  “Nope. They’re dealers buying in bulk. I find selling big weight is easier and safer than street dealing, even if the profit isn’t as good.”

  She groaned and banged her head against the headrest. Her eyes squeezed shut and I watched the vein on her forehead throb as her jaw clenched tight.

  The Top-40 station played some upbeat pop music and I whistled along.

  “Let me ask you something,” she said after ten minutes of silence.

  “What’s up?”

  “What happens if those guys in there don’t come back out with money?”

  “Then I make a call and they have a problem.”

  She nodded, frowning. “What if they run?”

  “We find them.”

  “And if they leave the city?”

  “They’re not that stupid.”

  “What if they are?”

  I shrugged and spread my hands. “Then we’ll find some people that they love and kill them.”

  Her mouth fell open. “You’ll do—what?”

  “We won’t kill them right away, obviously. We try and be reasonable.”

  “That’s— that’s sick.”

  “I see why you might think that.”

  “Are you really so arrogant that you’ll do whatever you want?”

  I tilted my head and leaned toward her. “Let me ask you something. Where do you think I’m from?”

  “Here. The city. What does that even mean?”

  “I’m from nothing. I’m from nowhere. The only reason I have anything in this world is because I’ve been willing to fight, kill, and cause a whole lot of mayhem to get it. Those guys in there, they’ve known me a long while, they know the sort of shit I’ve done in the past. You only know the man that stood up at that altar and smiled at you, but don’t forget.” I leaned toward her, a little smile on my lips. “You don’t know where I’ve been, little girl.”

  She stared at me and I saw a spark of fear behind those defiant, angry eyes, and I felt strangely victorious—even if it was a hollow victory. The last thing I wanted or needed was to upset her or make her even more scared of me than she already was, but I couldn’t help myself. She didn’t get it and I wasn’t sure she ever would.

  Before she could speak, the door to the house opened and the guy came back out with a big black duffel. He dumped it into the trunk, nodded at me, and disappeared back inside.

  “Is that it?” she asked.

  “That’s it.”

  “Are you going to count it?”

  “Nope.” I put the car in gear. “No need. Like I said, they know me.”

  She stared at me as I pulled forward.

  But I didn’t make it more than ten feet before a truck came screaming around the street ahead of me and slammed on its brakes. It sat there in the intersection and my mind began to panic. I saw three men, no, four, four guys jammed up front. The truck backed up then swung down the street heading toward me, going the wrong way down a one-way street, penning me in.

  I had a choice to make. I could go forward and collide head-on. I could hit reverse and see if I could outrun them. Or I could fight.

  The guys in the house wouldn’t be any fucking help.

  “Shit,” I said, turning the wheel.

  “Reid? What are you doing?”

  I swung the car up onto the sidewalk. It barely fit and the side scraped past a tree as I sped down. A young guy on a skateboard dove out of the way and I hit the horn over and over in case anyone wanted to get in my way. The mirror smashed off on a stoop as the truck pulled level.

  Guns pointed out their window.

  “Down!” I yelled, diving over on top of her as the guys in the truck opened fire.

  Bullets riddled the car for two agonizing seconds. I kept my foot on the gas and the car jumped forward before it hit a tree and bounced sideways. I jerked forward and slammed against the dashboard with a grunt. The truck hit its brakes and started to reverse.

  I shook Cora and stared at her. My head was dizzy and I felt blood dribble down into my eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay.”

  I unclicked her belt, leaned across her, and shoved open her door. “What are you doing?” she asked as I pushed her out.

  “Stay down,” I growled. “Don’t fucking move.”

  Fear bloomed in her face and she froze. I saw it clear as day, like a predator watched a rabbit pause mid-run in pure terror. She couldn’t move, her face pale, her eyes wide, her pupils dilated. I crawled across the seat as the guys in the truck opened fire again and managed to get her to
ward the back, out of the main line of fire.

  The sound was deafening, like fireworks going off next to my face. Shrapnel from a broken window glanced off my cheek and tore a long, jagged cut. I pulled my gun from my jacket and waited for the guys to stop shooting.

  I heard voices and a door open.

  That was when I made my move.

  I popped up, gun ready, and caught one in the open. He must’ve thought we were dead, since he stood in the no-man’s land between the two cars. I shot him once in the head and again in the chest as he fell then turned my gun toward the truck. The guy behind the wheel cursed and tried to get his gun up, but it was too late. I shot him in the head and had one more second to fire off another round that missed before the guy in the passenger seat began to return fire with a long rifle.

  I ducked back down.

  Cora trembled next to me, eyes wide. I grabbed her arm. “We have to run.”

  “Run?” She could barely say the word. “Run? Run?”

  “Cora.” I shook her hard. “Look at me. I’m going to get you through this. Do you understand?”

  “They’re trying to kill us.”

  “I’m going to get you through this, goddamn it. Now you need to get ready to run, do you hear me?”

  She nodded, eyes still wide, but they were focused on me at least.

  “All right. When I say, you run as fast as you can toward the end of the block. Stay low behind the cars. Do you hear me?”

  “Run. Cars. I got it.”

  I grunted and looked down the line of parked cars. There were a couple gaps between our position and the end of the block, but not too many.

  The rifle fire paused and I jumped up. I squeezed off two bullets as the guy in the passenger seat jumped out of the truck. I didn’t know where the second remaining guy was, but he was somewhere nearby. I fired the rest of my clip, reloaded, then grabbed Cora’s arm and started running.

  Bullets riddled the cars around us but we kept going. I returned fire, shooting wildly, not trying to hit anyone but trying to keep them pinned down. If they flanked us then this would be over. Cora kept on her feet and moved as fast as she could, but she let loose wild screams of terror as the bullets flew around us.

  I shoved her down behind the last car in the row and turned as the second man appeared in the street.

  He raised his rifle toward me and for a moment the chaos stilled and my heart became a thudding beast in my chest.

  I knew him. Fucking hell, I knew him.

  He shot first. I ducked down as his rifle bucked and screamed. I cursed and Cora screamed.

  A siren wailed nearby and the rifle fire stopped.

  Cora crawled toward me and I put an arm around her, pulling her against my chest. She wasn’t hurt as far as I could tell, which was a minor miracle. My car sat on the sidewalk, half wrecked and riddled with bullets, smoke curling from the engine. I watched as the passenger side guy shoved the driver’s dead body from the truck and got behind the wheel.

  The man in the street still stood there, his red hair shining in the sunlight.

  “You got lucky,” he shouted. “But I won’t miss next time, Reid.”

  I came up and took a shot. He laughed as it missed him by inches and fell back, running toward the truck. I fired again and again, narrowly missing him each time until he dove into the bed of the truck. He stared at me with a wild grin as the sirens got louder and the truck drove away.

  I stood and took Cora’s hand. “Come on.”

  “We can’t. The police… they’re coming.” She looked around in a panic.

  I took her by the shoulders. “We have to go. Are you ready?”

  She took a deep breath and shook her head. “Reid.”

  “Cora. My wife. Trust me.” I pulled her against me and kissed her.

  For one insane minute, the taste of her delicious lips mingled with the iron tang of the blood that dripped from my forehead. We kissed for half a second until she realized what was happening—and pulled away.

  Fire flashed in her eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”

  I grinned and took her hand. “There you are. Now come on, we have to run.”

  She didn’t have time to argue. I yanked her along, getting away from the scene of the attack as fast as I could. The sirens got closer, but we kept moving, until the car was left behind, and it was safe to make a few calls.

  6

  Cora

  I sat in the bathtub and watched the water turn pink from blood. I had a long, nasty cut on my arm from a piece of metal that snapped off the car from all the gunfire. My ears rang and I felt sick, like I might throw up, but I kept telling myself that if I didn’t move then I’d be okay.

  Reid was downstairs on the phone. He’d been on the phone since we got home, arguing with people, shouting at them, explaining what happened over and over. I barely heard anything, barely felt anything—like the world had broken around me, and I broke with it.

  I closed my eyes and thought about Alex’s face the last time I saw him. We stood outside of the deli, leaning back against the wall. Ten feet away, a group of made men were talking in loud voices, gesturing at each other, laughing loudly. I remembered Alex staring at them like he wanted so desperately to be a part of their group.

  I hated him for it a little bit. Maybe that wasn’t the right word—I hated that men like that made guys like Alex jealous, that anyone would give a damn what a made man thought or wanted. Alex thought they were special, they were strong, they had money and power and girls—and that attracted him, but I knew that made men were a bunch of animals, a bunch of bastards, and I wished he believed me when I told him that they’d bring him nothing but trouble.

  I was right, of course, but I never imagined how fast trouble would find him.

  A knock at the door pulled me out of my daydream. I sat up straight and squeezed water from my hair—although I was still in the tub.

  “What?” I said, heart racing.

  “It’s me.” Reid’s voice through the door.

  “What do you want?”

  “We should talk.”

  “Get out of my room. I’m in the bath.”

  “I know that.” He cleared his throat. “Let me come in.”

  My mouth fell open. “Are you kidding me? Go away. We can talk later.”

  He turned the knob and came inside.

  I sat up straight and wrapped my arms around my chest. Anger flared through me. That arrogant piece of shit thought he could barge in here whenever he wanted, even if I was naked and in the tub. He had no sense of personal space or boundaries, even though we’d discussed this and made a deal—he was already breaking the damn rules.

  He glanced away, although I saw his original look, his eyes moving to my breasts under the water, down my skin—and liking what he saw.

  “I know I shouldn’t be in here.”

  “Damn right you shouldn’t, now get the hell out, you psycho.”

  He turned his back and took a deep breath. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “I’m fine. Now get out.”

  He didn’t move. I saw the tension in his body. Blood still covered parts of his jacket and his hands flexed like he’d broken the fingers.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  I stared at his back, body curled up to cover myself. “What was supposed to happen then?”

  He grunted and shook his head. I could see the anger even from behind. “I’ve done that run a thousand times over the years, you know? I have a good relationship with those guys.”

  “Who attacked us?”

  He took a breath and leaned his head back. “You really want to know?”

  “Of course I want to know. Someone tried to kill me today, Reid.”

  He turned and leaned back against the sink. His arms crossed over his chest and blood matted his hair. I wanted to splash him, or scream at him, or hit him—or anything but sit there naked in lukewarm water, but I knew that if
I moved then he’d see me naked again, and I couldn’t decide if the thought scared me, pissed me off, or excited me.

  “The man’s name was Jarvis Lowry.”

  “Jarvis?”

  “Goes by Jar. I knew him back in the day, when we were both coming up. Hedeon took me under his wing though and we lost touch with each other over the years, but I’ve heard some whispers about him.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  “Bad shit. He started his own little Irish mafia, a bunch of violent shitheads that liked to crack skulls more than was strictly necessary. I heard a lot of them got pinched last year though, and I sort of thought he’d disappear.”

  “Clearly you were wrong.”

  “I didn’t know he was that dangerous. He must’ve been following me for a while now and knew that whenever I went to that house…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I should’ve changed up my routine. I got fucking lazy.”

  I put my chin on my knees and looked up at him for a long time. His eyes were far away as he stared down at the bathroom tile, his fingers gripping the edge of the sink so hard his knuckles turned white.

  “What happens now?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. It’s not a good thing, that sort of shit going down. The cops don’t like dead bodies. Fucking hell, Hedeon warned me that we couldn’t have something like this happen, and now look at it.”

  For some insane reason, I wanted to reassure him— I wanted to tell him that everything would be okay.

  I had no clue, of course.

  “You saved me back there.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

  He glanced over and I saw his eyes move down my body against before turning away. “Yeah, well, I also almost got you killed. I guess it’s a wash.”

  I smiled a little. “That’s true.”

  “I just wanted to come up here and make sure you were okay. That shit won’t happen again, Cora.”

  “I’m not sure you can promise that.”

  He grunted like I’d kicked him in the stomach. “You’re not supposed to be involved in that kind of business.”

  “But I am though, aren’t I? We got married and now I’m in this.”

  He pushed off the counter and walked to the bathroom door. I felt anger and sadness and desire all raging inside of me and I couldn’t decide which was more important. Alex’s ghost drifted through my memory—and the image of Reid murdering two men in broad daylight, of glass shattering, of him throwing his body on top of mine to protect me, it all played through my mind.

 

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