A Kingpin Love Affair (A Kingpin Love Affair #1-5)

by J. L. Beck

  “Cut the shit. I know you fucking did it, but what I don’t know is why. What I don’t get is who you work for, and if I don’t get the answers I want, I’ll put a bullet in every single person’s head until I do get an answer,” I spat at him. My gun was aimed and ready. I didn’t even give a shit anymore. I would take the world down in a burning blaze if I had to in order to find the answers.

  He shifted in his seat before standing. His eyes showed nothing but hate and anger. Not an ounce of remorse could be found, and for a smidge of a second, I wondered if this would be what I looked like the moment before I put a bullet in someone’s head. Shaking my head, I pushed the thought away—I wasn’t a monster. I wasn’t a ruthless killer. When I killed, it was because the person deserved it—and I knew my mother didn’t deserve to die.

  Laughing, he said, “You’ll kill everyone? Every single person who may or may not have an answer? What about my daughter? She has answers. She knows shit, but yet you still wanted between her legs. Was it good?” He was a sick fucker, and when he finally had his chance at death, I would make sure it was painful.

  Narrowing my eyes, I glared at him. “Bree has nothing to do with this.” I forced out the lie easily. She had everything to do with this. If it came down to it, if it came down to her or me, I wasn’t sure I could save myself. I wasn’t sure I could save either of us.

  “Oh, but she does. She has every fucking thing to do with it.” My anger was building the more and more we talked. I hadn’t come here for this.

  “I don’t give a shit about Bree. I give a shit about answers, and I won’t be leaving here without them.”

  A loud gasp sounded behind me, and I held my breath for a moment before turning around. My eyes landed on her dirt covered body, and I almost lowered my gun. The urge to go to her and see if she was okay was slowly taking over. I had to keep up this facade or he would see how much of a weakness she was for me. I continued to aim at John's head as I took in her appearance. The condition she was in was enough to make me pull the fucking trigger and put a bullet in his head. Her hair was matted, dirt was caked on her face, and her clothes were a mess. She looked as if she had been held up in a dirt pile.

  “What the fuck?” I heard as John mumbled under his breath. “Bree, what are you doing here?” He was just as surprised to see her as I was. Hell, I planned to find her after all of this, but from the way her father was acting, I had to assume he knew where she was all along.

  “What am I doing? Why the fuck did you put me in a hole in the fucking field? Why the hell—” She stopped midsentence, unable to finish her sentence.

  “Bree.” Her father scolded her like a child. I was getting the feeling he hadn’t been truthfully honest with her yet.

  “You lied to me. You put me in a fucking hole, and you lied to me. Do you work for someone?” Deep betrayal could be heard in her voice as the words flowed freely from her lips.

  Rolling his eyes, he smiled. “I was protecting you, child. Simple as it is, I knew you wouldn’t stay away from him.” He was referring to me now as him, huh?

  “You fucking lied,” she mumbled again as if in disbelief.

  A moment passed as her eyes began to look glassy. I turned to face John again, and I managed to catch the smirk on his face. He wanted to use her against me. He wanted to hurt me. Fuck, he even wanted to hurt his own daughter. Fuck him. I would use the one thing I knew had to mean the most to him. He might not have a problem hurting her feelings, but he definitely didn’t want her dead.

  I was going to regret this more than anything in my life. I was certain it would hurt me more than her, but I needed leverage. Turning around fast, I reached out, gripping her by the arm. She tripped coming out of her trance as I pulled her body in front of mine. I placed the barrel of the gun at her temple and waited for him to say something.

  I could practically hear Bree’s heart beating out of her chest. Was she afraid? Did she think I would actually be able to do this? Did I?

  Looking past her shoulder, I caught site of John with a huge smile on his face.

  “You actually expect me to think you would kill her? I know how you treated her while she was staying with you. You barely laid a hand on her. Now you’re threatening me with this?”

  Fuck. Sweat formed on my brow. I was about to be fucking out of something to use if I didn’t do something fast.

  “I do,” I said as an idea hit me. Pulling the gun away from Bree’s head, I slipped it into the back of my pants, and I swear I could hear her sigh with relief. Little did she know things were about to get ten times crazier. I just hoped she would be able to hang on a little longer.

  “Zerro, we don’t have to,” she whimpered. She was scared and she had reason to be. If her father didn’t cooperate with me, I would have to hurt her.

  Getting a good grip on the knife, I watched John’s eyes grow bigger than ever as I turned Bree around in my hold, gripped her by the throat, and slammed her back into the wall. My knife at the side of her neck meant business.

  “Now tell me what it is I want to hear,” I growled, ignoring the terror in Bree’s eyes. I had to do this. I had to.

  “You won’t…” John joked with a laugh stuck in his throat.

  “I will,” I retorted as I gripped the knife and pushed it softly into Bree’s crème white skin. I could feel her pulse jumping underneath my fingers. I could smell her fear, and I had no way of telling her it would be okay.

  “Kill her then.”

  “Okay,” I responded, shrugging my shoulders. Gazing up into her terror-filled eyes, I pushed the knife into her skin harder—praying to fucking God he was goading me. Her small hand reached up to push my hand away, but instead of stopping, I pressed the knife further into her skin. A small trickle of blood escaped and slid down her neck. I sent her a warning glare, reminding her of all I was capable of doing.

  “Stop!” she cried out. I was waiting for the tears I saw in her eyes to fall, but they never did. Her breaths were now pants, and I watched as she tried to swallow past the fear lodged in her throat. Everything was in slow motion, and for one fucking second in my life, I didn’t want to kill someone. I didn’t want to shut out the light in someone else’s life.

  “Okay… Okay…” I heard John’s pleas, and immediately, pulled the blade away, my eyes skimming over the cut before turning back to John.

  “Are we on the same page now, or do I need to do something else? When I said I took her as a form of payment, I meant I was taking her pussy to fuck it until it was useless. I didn’t say I was going to grow attached to it. I definitely didn’t say I would keep her the fuck alive.” The words coming from my mouth made me cringe so I couldn’t imagine what was going through Bree’s mind.

  “Killing her won’t get you the answers you want.” I had underestimated John. I had figured he didn’t care about Bree, and I was wrong. Whatever he was doing with her was out of protection.

  “Killing her will make you see what it’s like to lose your last living relative. It will make you relate.” I didn’t even recognize my own voice, and I felt the person I had newly become slipping away. I couldn’t bear to look Bree in the eyes... not yet. Releasing my hold on her throat, I watched as she sank to the floor with exhaustion and shock evident in her features. Come the fuck on. Stay with me, Bree…

  “What do you want to know?” John asked, going from standing to sitting as if he couldn’t handle what was taking place right before his eyes. The blade in my hand was heavy as guilt pressed hard down on my chest. How could I have been so conflicted in that very moment? This was the moment I had waited for my entire life.

  “I think we both know the answer to that question. I want answers, I want to know who killed my mother, and I don’t want to go in a fucking circle trying to get them.” My voice was animalistic as my eyes bled into John’s eyes. I could practically see the beads of sweat forming on his face.

  That’s right, fucker. I have your one and only weakness in my grasp.

  “Da
d, just tell him you didn’t do it.” Bree’s voice croaked as she spoke. John’s gaze slid from mine to hers, and then back to mine again. I didn’t have time for this, nor did I have the patience.

  Bending down, I gripped her by the arm pulling her up to her feet. She was weak and didn’t even resist my touch. Had she lost hope?

  “Things are about to get really fucking bloody if you don’t tell me what I want to fucking hear.”

  His meaty hand rubbed over his bald head and then down his face as worry formed in his eyes.

  “I killed her. I killed your mom. My partner and I were working for the FBI at the time, and I killed her. It’s not like we fucking wanted to kill her.” I heard his words, but at the same time, I didn’t. My body felt as if it were floating as if it was far, far away. Something in my mind clicked and I released my hold on Bree.

  “You didn’t want to?” I rambled, wanting nothing more than to put the bullet in his head right that second.

  “Your family had killed tons of our men. Our job was to go in and snuff you out. We needed to put an end to the family. Your mother wouldn’t help us, and it left her as a loose string in the mix of things. You know what they say about lose…” I didn’t even give him a moment of time before I jumped on him. My fist went flying into his jaw and I saw red. My mother was not a loose string.

  “A loose string? A loose string to what? You trying to kill people who did nothing wrong?” I was screaming now, my rage mounting with every hit to his face.

  Turning his face to me, he smiled. His white teeth showed through the mess of blood. It was in his smile I found the need to finish the job. He deserved to die. A death for a death.

  Suddenly, it was as if everything went in slow motion. I could hear Bree’s screams as I reached into my pocket and pulled out the gun. His eyes grew wide with fear as he tried to pull away, but there was no hope for him. Placing the barrel against his forehead, I pulled the trigger. No remorse shattered within me, not even as I watched his brains splatter on the floor behind him, or the fact I had just killed the father of the woman I loved…

  Instead, I sat there above him, watching the life leave his body. Bree’s cries turned to lunatic screams as she scrambled across the floor. Her small hands pawed at his shirt as she pleaded with him to wake up, to be alive. But even I knew there wasn’t any hope in what she was doing. He had to die, even if it killed me. Even if it killed me to hurt her—nothing spoke louder to me than my need for blood.

  “Daddy….” I heard her cry, tears streaking through the dirt on her face, and I didn’t even care. I didn’t care about anything.

  “Get up,” I said sternly. Her head shook, and I knew something bad was about to happen. I knew I was about to break, to hurt her, again.

  “How the fuck could you do this?” She turned to me, angry and sad. I learned long ago showing emotions like she was made us weak. I understood I had just shot and killed her father, but this was life. When you messed with my people, took people from me, then I was forced to do something about it.

  “A life for a life. We’re even. Now get up and let’s fucking leave before his goonies come up here.” I didn’t have to be told he had other men working with him. I knew it. I was smart in that aspect.

  She shuffled to her feet, tears still falling from her eyes. “You think I’m going to fucking go anywhere with you? Leave me the fuck alone. I should call the cops on you right now.”

  I almost laughed as I watched her gaze swing around the room as if she were looking for something. When did she become so strong? “Not a good idea, Piccolo,” I warned, pointing the gun at her. Were we enemies now? Would I have to kill her, too?

  “Do it. Shoot me. I bet you can’t. I bet you’re too big of a fucking coward. God knows, I know it. My father knew it, too. That’s why he killed your mother…” I had seen red before she finished speaking.

  My hand reached out and gripped tightly onto the hair on her scalp as I pulled her face into mine. My nostrils were flaring, and my blood was burning. I was conflicted. I wanted to kick her ass, but at the same time, I just wanted to drag her the fuck away from all of this. There was no fear in her eyes—just red-hot anger.

  “Never. Ever. Fucking talk to me like that again. You’re going with me, and you will do whatever the fuck I tell you.”

  Instead of releasing her, I stared deeply into her eyes, not even noticing the way her face soured. As if out of nowhere, I watched her pull back and spit on me. My chest heaved, and my anger spiraled out of control.

  Releasing my grip on her hair, I wrapped one hand around her throat, and the other along her jaw.

  “I was kind to you, I understood you, and I cared for you. I still fucking do, but you knew if I found out, it would be his dead body on the ground. You’re lucky it’s not yours.” Did I really mean it?

  Clenching her teeth with deep anger as she tried to pull away, she seethed, “I would much rather be dead than to have to fucking go anywhere with you.” She could be mad all she wanted. Her ass was still stuck with me. She had nowhere else to go, and I had already grown too attached to her to allow her to go.

  “Then I’ll be sure to make it your own personal hell.” My fingers dug harder into her cheeks, and I knew there would be bruises if I didn’t stop, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything,—her hurting, the fact I had killed her father—nothing mattered.

  “It already is,” she ground out. As I stared deeply into her eyes, I watched the pain and anger swirl. I had caused her this heartache— even if I didn’t want to know if this would make or break us.

  Instead of responding to her, I released her face with a defaming look. I had taken the beautiful, innocent angel she was and had molded her into the devil’s toy. I had broken her beyond repair. Gripping her arm tight, I pulled her toward the door, only to be stopped. She was digging her feet into the ground, and I knew if I didn’t do something fast, we would be caught. There was no time to sit around and wait for everyone else to get here.

  “Fine, then,” I growled. Taking a step toward her, I gripped her by the hips, picked her up, and threw her over my shoulder.

  “Put me the fuck down,” was her first response. Though I ignored her foul mouth, I couldn’t ignore the pounding and scratches on my back. I knew she wanted me to react, but if she thought she was going to get a rise out of me, she was wrong. If anything, it made me want to nail her ass against a tree.

  “You’re going to get us killed with your fucking screaming, yelling, and nonsense thinking,” I said continuing down the driveway. I could hear her huffs, anger radiating out of her like an overheated furnace.

  “Getting us killed? Are you fucking crazy? No, wait. You are! You just killed my dad at point blank range. My dad…” Her voice cut off, and I could tell she was on the verge of tears. Maybe she didn’t want to think her dad was capable of such venomous acts or she didn’t want to face the music—either way, she had to know it would come down to this.

  “Yeah. You will get us killed if you keep your fucking yap open. While I know I just killed your father, shut your fucking mouth. Mourn it later. Learn to deal with it. I never said I was a good man, Bree. I told you I was out for vengeance. Love wasn’t going to stop me from seeking it. Be mad, hate me, cuss me out, and never want to see me again, but know you can never run from me.”

  Silence settled over us as her chest heaved against my shoulders. For the first time in my life, I had met someone who I didn’t want to hurt, who I had wanted to take the pain from. Even though I wanted all those things, I was bred to kill, to hate, and to make those suffer who had made me suffer. A death for a death made us even. Bree would have to learn the hard way, though my love for her was deep, my need for vengeance was the same.

  Chapter Five

  Bree

  My chest heaved as I held in the tears I desperately wanted to release. Zerro had ripped the last living person from my life. He had shot and killed him in cold blood. It didn’t matter if I had loved him—nothing
mattered because he had killed my father.

  He placed me on the cold leather seat of the SUV and shut the door, not saying a word. I should open the door, I should run though I knew it would be useless. He would just hunt me down and haul me back here. As I sunk further into the seat, my mind sunk further into the abyss. How could he do something so cruel? How could he kill someone and feel no remorse? John was my father—it didn’t matter to me what he had done. None of it did. What mattered was he was dead, and I had no one. Nothing. I was just like him. Just like Alzerro King.

  “You’ll move on,” he whispered to no one. It had to be no one because I wasn’t listening to a fucking word he said. The second I got the chance, I would leave. I would run. I would escape his hold. There was now no doubt in my mind he was a living, breathing monster—far worse than the ones you heard about in fairytales.

  “I hate you.” I spat the words at him, hoping they would hit him with the intensity of my fist.

  “Get in fucking line,” he spat back at me without remorse in his words.

  “He was everything to me. He was my father. My fucking father. You killed the last living member of my family—for revenge? Do you feel better? Does hurting me make your heart red again?” I screamed these words across the center console, tears streaming down my face so heavily I couldn’t see anything. There was a fist-sized hole punched through my chest by the very man I loved.

  Eventually the car settled into silence, but I refused to shut up. I refused to be anything but angry and sad. I was hurting. I was breaking and it was his fault. All his fucking fault.

  Wiping away the tears so I could see the face of the monster, I stared into a pair of warm honey-colored eyes. “When I look at you, I see a small boy out on a mission to bring the world to its knees. To take anyone and everything out—anything undeserving of your attention. But maybe, just fucking maybe, it’s you who’s undeserving of the rest of us. Maybe it’s you who needs to take a look around and realize the world owes you nothing. And killing people like my father gets you nothing. It doesn’t make you feel better. It causes you to lose the most important person in the world to you—me.”