The Unforgettable Kind

by Melanie Munton

  The various sets in the giant dark room are separated by flimsy walls and tech equipment. I trip over cords in my desperation to find a door with some kind of lock on it. Any kind of barrier that I can put between me and them. The closest one happens to be the audio and visual tech room. I dive for the door and slam it shut behind me, twisting the lock on the doorknob just as someone starts banging on the other side.

  My pulse hammers as the banging intensifies.

  My eyes fly over the room, although I don’t even know what I’m looking for. What do I do? I know that door won’t hold much longer.

  Then I spot the black door in the back of the room that’s been blocked off over the years with extra equipment piled up in front of it. I completely forgot it even existed because no one uses it anymore.

  Then my gaze cuts over to the large soundboard and I have a light bulb moment. Again, I don’t even think.

  With frantic fingers, I push a few buttons and turn some switches on the board, using the knowledge and expertise I’ve honed over years of working in this business. I might usually be in front of the cameras, but I know the basics of the equipment we use.

  Praying I did everything right, I cross the room and start shoving the impeding equipment out of the way of the black door. Just as I’m able to squeeze around a particularly large piece, one of the goons kicks in the locked door, sending splinters of wood flying through the air. Using every ounce of strength I have, I bodily shove the unused door open and tumble back out into the set room. I look around and find myself on Set B, the one where Kade first groped me under the analyst table. The table that I’ve now been sitting next to him at for the last two months.

  Please let me survive this so I can see him again.

  We’ve only just begun to live the rest of our lives together. We haven’t had enough time. I’ll never have enough time with him.

  I don’t know if Esposito and his goons are behind me as I run across the tiled floor, trying not to slip on the smooth surface. I’m directly in front of the analyst table when a loud bang resonates through the room.

  A gun.

  They fired a gun.

  In the same instant, I feel something whoosh past my face, missing me by mere inches.

  Holy shit. They just shot at me.

  I was almost just taken out by a bullet.

  I freeze in my tracks when I hear the deathly click of a gun cocking as the shooter chambers another round.

  “And here I thought you were smart,” Raphael snarls. “But apparently that’s just for the cameras. Having brass might get you far in your line of work, my dear. But in my world? All that gets you is your brain matter splattered on the wall behind you.”

  The back of my throat burns as I fight not to gag. Tears build but I control those, too. On shaky feet, I turn around to see both of the goons flanking a seething Raphael, guns raised and pointed right at me. Raphael has a slash running across his cheek with blood dripping from it, filling me with a small sense of satisfaction. If I’m about to die, at least there will be marks left behind to show that I fought. And I’ll leave as many marks on these bastards as I possibly can.

  “You move and the next bullet will give those walls behind you a new paint job,” Raphael says in a vicious tone. “And then I’ll go after every single person you care about, starting with your little niece. Laylah, isn’t it? I assume you don’t want that.”

  I almost retch at the sound of my precious niece’s name coming from the lips of a monster. My shoulders slump, some of the fight leaving me. I know this man means what he says. I can’t jeopardize my family like that.

  “No.”

  He smirks. “Smartest thing you’ve said all night.”

  The two goons lower their guns and lumber over to me, each taking one of my arms in their tight grip. They’re so huge, I have no hope of freeing myself now. No course of action.

  Oh, God. This is the end.

  Never thought I’d go like this, I have to admit. And just when Kade and I found each other again. The universe must really hate the two of us. I mean, what the hell? Fate is one cruel bitch, using such drastic measures this time to keep the two of us apart. Allowing a love like ours to bloom but never prosper. My death will certainly bring that to an abrupt halt.

  Kade’s is the only face in my mind as I stare down the barrel of my demise. The only regret that lingers is not having more time with him, and wasting so much of what could have been over the last eight years.

  I’ve never even told him I love him.

  And he’s never said it to me.

  For whatever reason, we’ve never spoken those basic words aloud to each other. And that’s just now occurring to me for the first time. As I’m about to be executed by a mobster.

  What the hell have we been waiting for?

  It feels like the last barrier of our relationship that we’ve yet to break down. Have I been holding that last piece of myself back, in case fate stepped in again and tore us apart? Have I been afraid of saying it in order to keep a small fraction of my heart intact in case he left again?

  What a stupid thing to do.

  Obviously, life is short. Too short to keep something so important bottled up.

  Now, I’d give anything to have one last moment with him where I could pour out the last remnants of my heart. No matter if death comes for my body today, my soul has always been linked with his and forever will be. If this is it for me, I want him to know that I’ve been in love with him since I was sixteen years old. There’s never been and never will be anyone else for me. I wouldn’t trade my cherished memories of our brief time together for anything.

  “I have a rat in my organization,” Raphael says, his booming voice bringing me back to the present. “I’ve known for some time, but I haven’t been able to weed out the little bastard. And I think whoever this snitch is gave you your information.”

  I have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. Before I can respond, his phone rings. He pulls it out of his jacket and smirks at the screen before answering. “Speak of the devil.”

  I can’t hear what the other person is saying, but Raphael’s leering gaze falls on me, making me squirm.

  “Actually, she’s with me at the moment.”

  My confusion deepens. They’re talking about me. Who the hell is on the other line?

  “Well, I got sick of waiting on you,” Raphael continues, his voice growing angrier. “You weren’t making progress on your end, so I decided to expedite my plans. I saw her by herself, so unlike you, I took the initiative.”

  Weren’t making progress on your end? What does that mean?

  Whatever the other person says must anger Raphael because his eyes darken. “You work for me, fucker. I do whatever the fuck I want. And if you want to keep getting paid, you’ll obey my goddamn orders and never speak to me like that again. Am I clear?”

  The hands on my arms are starting to bruise, they’re holding on so tightly. But I keep my focus on Raphael’s conversation. The other person must mention me again because his eyes swing back to me.

  “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with her yet, but she’s no longer your concern. You took your sweet ass time and let that pissant Jennings get involved, so I’m officially cutting you out of this picture.”

  I gasp, my eyes widening. Oh, God. Is Kade okay? What if Raphael sent someone after him? Please no.

  “This is now my business, Simmons. As far as you’re concerned, she’s dead to you.”

  All the oxygen leaves my body, making me lightheaded.

  Simmons. Aaron? He’s working for Esposito?

  No, he can’t be. I would have known. I would have sensed that. Aaron’s not perfect, but he’s not a criminal.

  Raphael hangs up seconds later without another word. Then he sighs. “I really hate that man. I swear, if your ex-boyfriend didn’t have his hand in so many pies, I’d have killed him a long time ago. But he’s made me a lot of money, so I put up with the privileged little asshole.
”

  “Aaron?” I whisper, horrified.

  Raphael smiles. “She finally figures it out.”

  I don’t believe this. I can’t. A man I shared my bed with, a man I briefly considered marrying, is behind all of this? Paying off the cheating referees? Taking bribes from the mafia? How could I not know that I was sleeping with a liar? A monster?

  “Aaron tried to have me killed?”

  Raphael huffs in disgust. “Fuck no. He wouldn’t have the balls or stomach for that. He just thought if he won you back that he could deter you from investigating this matter further. Encourage you to look the other way, so to speak. Clearly, he failed since you’re spreading your legs for Jennings.”

  I ignore the mention of Kade and focus on getting the man to talk. “What matter exactly? That you’ve been paying NFL referees to make bad calls so you can fix games and make a shitload of money off of the bets people take from you?”

  He laughs and stalks toward me. “You insult me by making it sound so pedestrian. You have absolutely no idea how high these stakes are, girl. How much money is being exchanged and whose hands are exchanging it. Lucky for me, Mr. Simmons Sr. owed me a lot of money many years ago. He paid off his debt by becoming my partner in this arrangement. Now, his son has taken over since the old man’s health is deteriorating. Shame. Thus far, Simmons Jr. hasn’t lived up to his father’s ruthless reputation.”

  Jesus. I never would have thought Aaron could do something so despicable, let alone his father. I never knew them at all.

  “So, what? You pay the refs to call certain games in your favor, Aaron makes sure any suspicions stay buried, and you both get rich?”

  He inspects his diamond pinkie ring as if he couldn’t be more bored with such trivial conversation. “More or less. You’d be shocked by how many of our upstanding citizens out there love to gamble on football. CEOs, lawyers, doctors, politicians, even some of the athletes themselves. If I don’t control the outcome of the games they’re betting on, then I don’t hold the upper hand. And I must say, it has benefitted me greatly to have people like that indebted to me.”

  I’m not naïve. I know tons of people participate in illegal sports gambling. I just wonder where these people think their money is going. Would they still make their bets if they knew upfront who they were getting into bed with?

  But I guess desperation, if strong enough, will always trump basic rationale.

  “You’re just stealing people’s money,” I say. “For all of your wealth and power, when it comes down to it, you’re nothing but a common thief. A mere swindler.”

  His arm strikes out, and the back of his hand connects with my cheek so hard my head snaps to the side. The skin there is already hot and throbbing when hands squeeze my face and shove my hair aside. Raphael is there when my vision clears, forcing my gaze up to his.

  “For all of my wealth and power, my dear, I can end your life right here and now and no one will be able to stop me,” he hisses. “Your life means nothing to me. I can snap your pretty neck with a flick of my wrist. I can dispose of your body with a phone call, and no one will ever find you. No one you love will ever know what happened to you.”

  His eyes travel the length of my body, and he licks his lips. “On the other hand, maybe I should let Arturo and Tomas here have some fun with you first. It’d be a shame to waste a good pussy without even getting a taste, no?”

  Bile rises in my throat.

  I’d rather die. I’d rather beg him to just kill me now than suffer that violation.

  But I’ll never beg this man for anything. Even to spare me from something that could break me.

  Tears well and I begin to struggle as Raphael’s grimy hands close over my breasts. I close my eyes and pray for a miracle.

  “Let her go.”

  My eyes snap open at the ferocious tone. Raphael jerks around, allowing me a clear view of my salvation.

  Kade.

  He’s here. Gun in hand, the barrel pointed directly at Raphael’s skull.

  And my God.

  He looks like he’s about to commit murder.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  “The End”

  by The Doors

  Kade

  For the rest of my life, I’ll never be able to erase the image before me from my mind. Sam being held against her will by two murderous thugs while Raphael Esposito looms over her, putting his filthy hands on her.

  On my woman. My Sam.

  When Esposito steps away from her to look at me, I see the angry red mark on her cheek, one distinctive of a hand.

  Oh, this son of a bitch is dead.

  “Mr. Jennings,” Esposito says, straightening his lapel. “How nice of you to drop by. Killing two birds with one stone makes my life much easier.”

  My trigger finger twitches in temptation. “Let her go, you piece of shit.”

  He smirks. “Or what?”

  “Lead poisoning,” Cris says as he steps out of the shadows to my left, gun aimed pointblank at Esposito’s head.

  With both of Cris’s men down from bullet wounds—one dead and one still grasping onto life—this is now a two against three situation.

  But I could give a shit about the odds.

  All I care about is getting Sam out of harm’s way.

  One of the goliaths holding her turns his gun on Cris, the other pressing his barrel against Sam’s temple. Her terrified eyes watch me, pleading with me. Not for me to save her, but for me to save myself. I know this because I know her.

  And I also know what’s written on my own face. If sacrificing myself saves you, then so fucking be it.

  Her lower lip trembles as a whimper leaves her mouth. This is just another reason why I love her so damn much. Because even as she’s being held at gun point, she’s still more concerned about my safety than hers.

  It’s going to be okay, baby.

  Esposito shifts on his feet when his eyes fall on my companion, his composure faltering slightly. “As I live and breathe. Cristiano Rossetti, in the flesh.”

  “Esposito. You’re a little out of your territory, aren’t you?”

  Esposito quirks his eyebrow. “As are you. After all, Atlanta could never be Brooklyn. It’s not quite trashy enough, is it?”

  A grating laugh leaves Cris. “I own enough of this city that says it is my territory. And I want you to get the hell out of it.”

  Esposito’s smirk disappears. “This is my business, Rossetti. It’s got fuck all to do with you or your family.”

  “Wrong. This man,” Cris tips his head at me, “is my family. And she’s his. So release her and step the hell back, or shit’s going to go down a lot differently than you planned.”

  Something flashes across Esposito’s face that looks a lot like fear. “You pull that trigger, Rossetti, and you’ll be declaring war. But if you walk away right now, I’ll forget this ever happened.”

  “I believe we’re already at war.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “Why don’t you ask your son?”

  Esposito’s jaw hardens, eyes flaring. In a flash, he swipes the gun from the man who’s holding it on Sam and turns it on her himself, digging it into the side of her skull. She winces in pain, and I lunge forward.

  “You take one more step and she’s dead!”

  I stop.

  Goddammit.

  The man is unhinged. That plus a shaky trigger finger isn’t a good combination. If we don’t take control of this situation, it’s going to end badly for both sides.

  That’s when movement from Sam catches my eye. Without taking her gaze off me, she slowly and carefully lifts her leg behind her and removes her high heel. Because she barely moves her upper body in the process, Esposito nor his men even notice what she’s doing. With her shoe in hand, she flicks her eyes to her left then back to me.

  God, I love this woman and her quick thinking, her clear head in a time of crisis. Most women would be hysterical right now, but not Sam. She’s too much of
a stubborn hellcat to not remain upright and swinging until the very end.

  I wordlessly answer her. I understand, baby.

  I can only hope that Cris sees all of this because I’m not giving anything away with my expression. Esposito’s eyes are manic as they dart between the two of us, his gun hand violently shaking against Sam’s head. His two men are thrumming with tension, poised for attack.

  With my attention trained on her, Sam’s mouth moves as she silently counts.

  One.

  I don’t have time to consider what’s about to happen. I just pray that the three of us come out of it alive.

  Two.

  I shift all my weight to my toes as a surge of energy bursts through me. No matter what happens, I’m getting Sam out of here. No matter how many bullets my body has to absorb or how much blood I have to drain, she will make it through this.

  Three.

  As her lips form the last word, she throws her shoe a good distance behind Esposito at the same time that I look in that direction and yell, “Take him out!”

  The ruse draws Esposito’s attention, along with his man next to him. He flings his arm around, removing the gun from Sam’s head. She immediately ducks down, allowing me to get off a clear shot as Esposito fires his gun at the shadows behind him.

  I pull the trigger.

  His body jerks when the bullet hits his shoulder. He falls to the ground. His gun skids across the floor after he loses his grip on it.

  At the same time, gunfire comes from my left as Cris and the other man square off. Esposito’s man collapses backwards, taking lead straight between his eyes, while Cris lets out a sharp curse, drawing my attention.

  “You hit?” I shout.

  He grunts. “Just a flesh wound.”

  Because I break my focus for those brief seconds, I don’t notice when Esposito’s other man comes charging at me. He tackles me to the floor, knocking my gun out of my hand before I can fire off another round. Using all the strength in my arms and thighs, I roll us until I’m on top and holding him down, driving my fist into his face over and over again. Blood spurts from his mouth before his meaty right hook hits me across the jaw, jarring me. The moment of imbalance gives him the opportunity to take a shot at my kidneys, sending me hurtling to the floor. Fury like I’ve never known assaults me as I get my feet underneath me and raise my fist for more.