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

Page 31

by J. L. Beck


  “If that’s true, then kill her. If she means nothing to you, kill her. An eye for an eye as you always said.” Mack quoted Zerro as if he had memorized the very saying. I looked up at the man before me, the dark shell of who he truly was on full display. I knew, if I didn’t do something fast, all hell would break lose.

  Dark whiskey colored eyes connected with my own as his gun came into view. He wasn’t really going to kill me, was he? His eyes said he was sorry, but his body. His body said he wasn’t. Killing me was a duty that needed to be done. It was then I made my final choice. I was stronger than I ever had been. With precise precision, I slid the blade of the knife I had hidden in my boot earlier down my sleeve into my hand.

  “You know, even with her dead that doesn’t change things Mack. You have to die as well. You betrayed me. You went behind my back and worked with John, who was my mother’s killer. You told the FBI about us.”

  As I listened to what he was saying, I secured the blade in my hand. It was heavy, and if I landed it perfectly, it would kill him. One chance, that’s all I had. Devon lied when he said I didn’t have a second chance—he had given it to me. A small smile played across my lips as I waited for Mack to speak.

  “You had everything I ever wanted, and you refused to pay respect to those who had helped you get where you were. I wanted my piece of the pie. I did what I could. Then this bitch got in the way and fucked everything up. You say love is weakness, but when I watched you look at her, I saw the same look I used to give Delilah in your eyes.”

  The words leaving his mouth were both vile and full of anger. I hated Mack just as much as Zerro did, but right now, listening to those words, I felt for him. I knew what had happened between him and Delilah was tragic. I knew it turned him into a monster the same way the death of Zerro’s mother did for Zerro. The only difference was Zerro had me. I could save him, but there was no saving Mack. He was broken beyond repair.

  You can only be broken for so long before it gets to you—before the hate and guilt you carry around eats away at you. You could care less about being alone for the rest of your life because nothing matters to you. That’s what happened to him, and I could feel it happening to me. Blood pumped through my veins rapidly, echoing in my ears. Everything around me became white noise. The only thing I could hear was my own shallow breathing. My hands felt like they were being weighed down by bricks as a thin layer of sweat formed on them.

  This wasn’t fear. No, it was preparation for war. For death. Long gone was the fear of my own death. Instead, a deep ball of anxiety formed in my chest. I was anxious, but I was also ready. Ready to deliver the monster known as Mack back to his home. To a place where maybe he could find his own peace.

  My teeth were clenched together as I readied myself for the final blow. The savage desire to kill was pushing me to madness. The need for blood was overwhelming any further thought as I turned to face Mack. I knew there was a gun pointed at the back of my head, and there was a high chance I could die. It didn’t matter though.

  Everything happened in slow motion as I got my footing. I clenched my fist, my nails digging into the soft flesh as I formed a hard fist. With a precision I didn’t even know I had, my fist landed hard on his balls. A rush of air left his chest as he bent over, the creases of his face filling with rage.

  Without even thinking, I had plunged the knife upwards at the same time he had tumbled over in pain. The gun going off and his voice were the only sounds ringing out in the warehouse. My heart was racing as the bullet missed me by mere inches. I had no time for fear to sink in. I knew there was no going back now. I heard Zerro scream NO, as if to tell me not to do it, but I couldn’t stop. I had lost my shit and nothing would tame the beast in me having finally been set free.

  My muscles tensed as I applied pressure to the knife I had lodged in his left eye. His screams only became louder, full of pain and suffering. Blood squirted out, landing across my face as I yanked the knife out. I watched Mack fall to his knees, his hands covering his eye as if he were trying to stop the blood from pouring out in masses. When I looked at him, my mind went back to all the times he treated me as if I were nothing. I couldn’t stop the urges flowing through me as I heard a little voice say ‘make him pay.’

  That’s all I needed to hear. He needed to pay, and I was going to collect the payment today. I found myself walking behind him, my hand still securely wrapped around the blade. Coming to a halt directly behind him, my free hand snaked through his hair and jerked his head back. Whispering in his ear as I placed the blade at his throat, I asked him, “Do you remember all the times you threatened to slit my throat—after you fucked me, of course?”

  My voice held so much pain I could barely recognize it as my own. A rumble sounded in his voice as I heard the mumbling of the word bitch, which only fueled the roaring fire inside of me. “Bitch? Hmm... I guess Zerro taught you something, after all, huh? Die with honor it is.” Those were the last words I said to Mack as I roughly dragged the knife across his neck.

  A gurgle sounded in his throat as I threw him forward with the little bit of strength I had left. Time stood still as I loomed over his body, blood covering his face and neck as it slowly dripped to the cement floor. I watched him fight to breathe, the rise and fall of his chest coming and going as fast as he could inhale and exhale.

  A breath escaped me as I watched the light leave his undamaged eye. I had killed him. “Love always conquers, asshole,” I whispered more to myself as I looked down at my hand covered in my enemy’s blood. I think everyone in this room knew I needed to do this. I needed to be the one to take Mack out because no one tried to stop me. Not when I stabbed him in the eye and not when I sliced his throat.

  I knew the moment his arms wrapped around mine as if he never thought he would see me again. His lips kissed at any skin he could get his mouth on, and I sighed against him. Relief flooded me and tears fell from my eyes. Happiness wasn’t something I had felt for months, and with Mack dead, I knew there was a chance I could do this.

  “Do we leave him?” Devon asked. This whole time I was convinced it was Devon who had been on the wrong side.

  “Yes,” Zerro said, pulling the blade from my blood stained hand. I shuddered to realize I had killed not one person, but two. This time though, I felt no remorse. Not even a morsel. Mack deserved death more than anyone.

  “You gave her this?” Zerro asked eyeing the blade in his hand. There was a long far off look and a balancing of respect.

  “Yes, I knew she would need it. I know you gave it to me for safe keeping, and I never was able to give it back to you. I wanted her to have it,” Devon said smiling at me. I didn’t see what the big deal was. We should be trying to get out of here.

  “What’s the big deal, let’s go,” I mumbled heading toward the door where Jared was standing. He then wrapped his arms around me.

  “That’s the blade his mother gave him when he was a child. It was his first throwing knife,” Jared whispered in my ear. Realization hit me at that moment—the engraving on the blade said something I didn’t understand. It was Italian. How did I not know that?

  “What does it mean?” I asked without hesitation knowing Jared would know what it said.

  “Per il Mio Caro Figlo,” Jared said the words with elegance as if he had always spoken the language. “It means for my dear son.”

  For my dear son. I looked back toward Zerro, who had tears in his eyes. I had killed the man who had been our nightmare with the blade his mother had given him. It was kind of like his mother had been here with us this whole time.

  “We need to go.” Jared interrupted the sweet moment his voice pounding in my head. I could see the flashing lights, which were basically right on top of us.

  “I can’t,” Zerro said. There was nothing more in his words. Panic seized me. What did he mean he couldn’t?

  “What do you mean you can’t?” Mack was dead. We could have our lives back.

  “Someone has to pay for all the damage
done, Bree. Someone has to turn themselves in.” Zerro eyed me, his own face hidden of any emotions.

  “You… You can’t, you won’t,” I pleaded, fighting against Jared’s hold.

  “I can. I have to, Bree. I want you to live a happy and healthy life without a monster like me around. I have done some really fucked up things in my life, but loving you and taking you was never one of them.”

  I could feel the tears streaming down my face. “You can’t fucking do this to me,” I screamed, my fists beating against Jared.

  “I have to. This is the only way you can walk out of here right now. So go. I love you. I love you so fucking much, but you had to know we wouldn’t ever get this happiness, Bree.” He was directly in front of me, and I wanted to reach out, even for a fraction of a second, to feel his skin against mine.

  As if he could read my mind, he cupped the side of the cheek and kissed me with so much passion. Every word he had never said to me could be felt in that single moment.

  “Take care of her, Jared,” Zerro said pulling away, giving me one once over before he gave Jared the signal to take me away. I continued to thrash back and forth screaming. I didn’t care if they found us if they took us in. I cared about Zerro.

  My heart ached, and as I watched the last of his body move from my sight, it was then when I felt my heart breaking into a million pieces. He had done this to save me. To save us. Didn’t he realize I didn’t need saving—I didn’t want saving.

  “Jared, you can’t let him do this,” I pleaded… Mack being dead meant nothing to me. The fact the man I love was going to be taken by the FBI without a chance of ever coming out—that’s what mattered.

  “I have to, Bree. I promised him.” That was all he said. And it was then I understood. He wanted me happy—I had found my home, my family.

  “Please, Jared. Please.”

  “It’s done,” he said, his tone hard. He shoved me into the back seat of the SUV just as the first car came into sight. Holding me tightly against his chest so I couldn’t move, I watched as the man I loved was left behind. I stared, watching until he was nothing but a speck in my eyes. Tears streamed down my cheeks like an endless river as I prayed they would drown me. Nothing would end the pain. My chest was sliced wide open and my heart barely beating. My chest constricted as I tried my hardest to take a breath, but nothing was coming. No air would enter my lungs and I felt it. Deep down inside of me, I had lost my very reason to breathe—my heart was breaking with every absent breath.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Zerro

  All I could see every time I closed my eyes was her beautiful face etched in madness. I knew her heart was breaking. What was worse—it was my fault.

  “Mr. King.” I was greeted by Zach the balding FBI agent, who had thrown me to the ground and put cuffs on me. Instead of returning the greeting, I simply stared at him in morbid stupidity. I wasn’t stupid. Just because I gave myself up to these people didn’t mean I was going to admit to any wrongdoing. You did this for her… I had to remind myself of that every hour of the day.

  It had only been five days, but I was still struggling, wondering if I would ever get out of here and if I would somehow forget how her face looked.

  “One way or another you’re going to have to talk,” he reminded me, yet again. This was the fifth day of interrogations, and let me tell you, they weren’t above physical abuse—but neither was I.

  “Talking would mean I had something to talk about…” I said my voice hushed before pausing so I could lean across the table. “And we both know I have nothing to talk about.”

  Instead of turning away as most grown men would, he just stared back at me, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

  “You want out of here, and that’s only possible by talking.”

  He was lying. They didn’t want me to go. They pined to get to me for years. I had done some really bad shit before meeting Bree. I wanted to put it behind me, but not if it left me locked up in prison for life.

  “I’m not a pig, and even if I were, I wouldn’t have shit to say.” I wasn't snide and I chose my words carefully. The problem was every minute I was gone was another stab to my beating heart.

  “Mack….” Zach said… The name rolling off his tongue as if he has uttered the one single word more than once. Which I knew was true. They had him—or did before Bree plunged a knife into his chest.

  “What about him?” I asked voiding my face of all emotion.

  “Don’t you find it slightly strange the man was found dead in your presence? You knew he was going to come to us and bring you in—but suddenly, he’s dead?” Was he baiting me?

  I wasn’t sure how to answer the question. Devon had told me to lie, to plead the fifth, and no matter what, say nothing. He was taking the fault for Mack’s death, but we all knew they would do whatever they could to pin it on me. Anything to keep me in this hell hole.

  “I think Mack had death coming long before he started with me.” Which was the truth. Mack was bad before he met up with me before I brought him to the group. The death of Delilah wasn’t my fault. Her family borrowed money from mine. With no form of payment, their lives were taken.

  Zach scratched at his chin as if he were thinking. His dark eyes hid whatever it was he was pondering.

  “Let’s cut to the chase really… See, you and I both know we have nothing on you. Though you were there with Mack when Devon killed him, we believe there may have been other motives. Mack came to us with the intentions of bringing you in, but after talking with Devon, it seems he might have rather have had you dead, instead.”

  “Well, if you have no proof, you should probably release me then,” I countered, leaning back into the metal folding chair casually. There was some proof though, somewhere. I mean, after all, I had killed John. Devon took the fault for his death, as well, pulling the wool right over their eyes.

  “Oh, you’ll be leaving—just under different circumstances.” The way he said it actually caused fear to bloom in my body. There would be conditions I was certain. Conditions rendering me from doing anything.

  Before I had the chance to respond back, he walked to one of the doors and opened it. One the other side, I could see Devon’s smug face. How had that man made it in the FBI for so long? Better yet, how did I handle hanging around him?

  “Meet your new partner, Mr. King.”

  “My new partner?” What did he mean?

  “Yup. You can leave this compound under the stipulations you join the gang related task force.” I pondered what he said a moment. A task force? Gang related? Was I taking my own people down?

  “What am I going to be doing?”

  I watched as Zach turned to smile at Devon. He was lacking the amusement Zach had and that told me I wasn’t going to enjoy this.

  “We know you’ve done some really bad stuff. Even if we don’t have the proof, we have the knowledge. Better yet, you have the knowledge…” He pointed at me. “With your information and knowledge of the Mafia, we can take down others who are headed down similar paths. Many do far worse than what you’re known for doing.”

  I nodded, understanding what he was saying. I knew what they were talking about. Luccio’s family, before I came into contact with them, ended up being in the business of human trafficking.

  “Basically, I get to play good cop?”

  “Yes, Devon here will train you on the job. You will report to me once a week. We will have a new job for you every week. Eventually, we’ll get to the big stuff,” Zach said, not sounding as happy as he was before. Maybe it was because I was smiling, and he didn’t expect it—or he finally realized allowing a criminal into a branch of the FBI was insane.

  See, those who know me, know my hate for the FBI is huge. However, those letting me go means something to me. I had already decided I was letting the Mafia go. Since my hands will no longer be tied to them, I can start over. I can do better. Be better. Even if it’s just for Bree.

  “Okay, I’m in.” I had acted befo
re the chance was taken away.

  “Good.” Glancing sideways at Devon for a moment, he walked out of the room leaving us alone.

  “Never would I have seen the day Alzerro King joined the good side,” Devon said. He sounded astounded, but somehow, I had expected this to be the plan all along. I owed Devon quite a bit. He had saved Bree’s life, given her a slice of freedom, and by giving her my mother’s knife, had given her the power to kill Mack.

  Laughing gruffly, I said, “I owe you big time, man.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you do.” Devon laughed back. For the first time in my entire life, I felt the sun shining against my skin.

  “Thanks.”

  “Yeah, now let’s get you cleaned up and do some training so we can get you sent back home next week.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Bree

  I was over caring. Over trying and taking care of myself. Losing him was all that consumed me. It was hard to think about anything else when the other piece of my beating heart was out there somewhere. Jared was trying, as was my father.

  They didn’t understand. They didn’t feel the pain deep down to the epicenter. Our love was built on fire, passion, betrayal, and hate. We might not have been meant to be together, but falling in love with him was the most exhilarating thing I had ever done in my life.

  The debt is never going to be settled, Piccolo.” My body shuddered as the memory of that very conversation flooded into me.

  “Why?” I cried out as he pulled me closer to his mouth. His hot breath was on my face, and he smelled like bourbon and man. Sweat still lined his brow, and blood seeped through the bandage on his shoulder.

  “Because now it’s I who is indebted to you…”

  This was his repayment to me. His way of thanking me, by making sure I was free of the pain. I would no longer have to deal with the Mafia lifestyle. I would no longer have to fear for my life. What he took with all of it was himself—he removed himself from all of it.

 

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