Knocked Up by the Bad Boy

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Knocked Up by the Bad Boy Page 17

by Waltz, Vanessa


  His hand slides away from me as I slowly digest that. It sounds like a fantasyland.

  “What’s your family like?”

  He makes a face at the question, quickly hiding his discomfort under a smile. “Can’t complain.”

  The guy can’t stand talking about himself, can he?

  “Was your dad like you?”

  At the mention of his dad, Johnny compulsively grabs his wineglass. “He was in the life, yeah.”

  I’m startled by the grittiness in his voice. “What was he like?”

  His eyes cut into me as every trace of warmth recedes from his body. I feel it like a wave of frost curling around my limbs. He gives me a look as though it’s none of my fucking business.

  “I’m just trying to get to know you.”

  “You don’t need to know anything about my dad for that.”

  He looks like he might snap the stem of his wineglass. Fine, I’ll drop it. It’s not worth him getting pissed off, but he changes tack with lightning speed.

  “What did you want to do before you met me?”

  A sagging feeling makes me slump over the table. The hair salon. Beauty school. Both dreams, crushed. I can’t stand to talk about it now.

  “It’s stupid.”

  “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  “Come on.”

  Fine.

  “I wanted to go to beauty school, and I worked at the café because I was going to save up money to move out and work at a hair salon. Maybe have my own business, one day.”

  It was a stupid, modest dream, but it was mine.

  There. Go on. Laugh at me.

  But he doesn’t laugh. “That’s not stupid. Lots of my guys’ wives work in hair salons. Who gives a fuck?”

  Seeing him shrug it off lightens a huge weight sitting on my chest.

  “My dad said it was a waste of money. He wanted me to stay in the compound, date a biker, and watch everyone’s kids. Anyway, he made me quit my job and refused to pay for the school.” I shrug hopelessly. “And now I’m here.”

  And now I’m depressed.

  “What was it about it that you liked so much?”

  I stare at the small hole in the plastic tablecloth, avoiding his gaze because I don’t want to see how sorry he feels for me.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. I was supposed to go to college, and then that fell through because my dad thought it was a waste of time, so I shouldn’t be surprised that he thought beauty school was a waste of time, too.”

  He frowns at me as the waiter drops a deep-red pizza in front of us, the cooked tomato aroma hitting my stomach immediately. Shit, that smells delicious.

  “My father said the same thing to me.”

  “What?”

  “He never really gave a shit about education. He just wanted me to start working for him. You know, help provide for the family.”

  We’re quiet for a moment as he cuts a slice for me and slides the wedge onto my plate. He cuts one for himself, slicing into the plate with a knife so loudly that the ceramic shrieks and I wince.

  I guess he still hates his dad.

  He picks up a knife and fork, cutting into the slice.

  “You seriously eat pizza with a knife and fork?”

  He looks at me, his utensils raised. “What?”

  I sputter with laughter as he gives me a serious look. “I never took you as a prissy guy.”

  “I get my hands dirty all the damn time.”

  Then he winks at me and my heart squeezes.

  “So pussy juice is okay but tomato sauce isn’t?”

  “Don’t talk like that here—”

  “I seem to remember you laying on filthy lines at me at that sausage place.”

  “That was different. People know me here for being—”

  “—For eating your pizza with a knife and fork.”

  “Come on.”

  “I promise you that they gossip about it.”

  He drops the knife and fork and grabs the slice with his hands, tearing off a piece with his mouth as he stares at me, chewing. “Are you done breaking my balls?”

  “Why? It’s so much fun.”

  Hell, I’m actually smiling for the first time in days. We eat the rest of the meal in comfortable silence and I feel as though a little weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I still don’t know much about him, but I learned a few bits. At least he has a sense of humor.

  “Mr. Cravotta, thank you so much for coming. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

  Johnny gives the waiter a genial smile as he stands up, slapping a bunch of bills on the table.

  “Do you ever get tired of people sucking up to you?”

  He lets out a long sigh as he guides me out of the restaurant. “Why do you always say whatever’s in your head?”

  I slip my hand into his as we walk down the street, and a smile pulls at his lips.

  “Do you want me to be a sycophant like everyone else?”

  “No.” He stops in the middle of the sidewalk and tugs my arm so that I fly into his chest, and then he looks down at me through smoldering eyes. “I want you to shut up and kiss me.”

  The moment I feel his breath on my lips, I lean forward because I’m tall enough in these heels to catch his lips. Something more than desire heats up inside me as he curves his arm around my waist and kisses me back right in the middle of the sidewalk. It feels as though there’s something leaping inside my stomach and a breathless wave of happiness hits me as he pulls back and smiles.

  * * *

  “It’s so nice to meet you!”

  A woman I’ve never seen before in my life embraces me and bumps her cheek against mine. I get a strong whiff of perfume and for a moment I’m dizzied by the smell. She looks like a richly decorated tree with her golden bracelets and necklace. All I have is my gaudy engagement ring that still needs to get sized. Her manicured nails seize my hand as she catches a glimpse of it.

  “Oh my God, it’s gorgeous! You must be so excited!”

  “Uh—yeah.”

  I’m practically bursting with excitement.

  “Have you set a date?”

  I resist the urge to glance at Johnny. “Not yet.”

  “Well, I can’t wait. Lovely to meet you!”

  My head spins as the next person sidles into view, her teeth nearly cracking from her fake smile. “It’s such an honor.”

  An honor? I’m only here because we didn’t use a condom.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  Then the next one comes along, and the next. They treat me as though I’m a goddamn queen, but I’m just waiting for my dad to show up and cause a huge scene. I stand at Johnny’s side like a prop as a line of guests greet him one by one, sucking up to the don.

  “Hey, there he is!”

  Here we go again. Another one.

  One of his captains wraps his arms around Johnny and gives him a kiss on both cheeks.

  “Congratulations, Johnny,” he says, giving me an admiring look. “You’re a lucky guy.”

  “Thanks,” he says, beaming.

  “So what’s the plan after this? You’re going to get married right away?”

  “That’s what I’d like, but I’d prefer to get her old man’s approval.”

  Never going to happen.

  “Isn’t he here?”

  “Not yet.”

  He turns his head, looking at the small group of people, and then I recognize him as François, the man who hit on me in the bar right before Johnny cock-blocked him. François shrugs and turns back toward his boss.

  “Do we have time to talk a little business?”

  “What do you have for me?”

  François bends his head, his grin splitting his face into two. “Really fucking good news. We’ve got the keys. We’re going to be fuckin’ rich.”

  The boss’ face remains impassive at the news. “Good.”

  “We got one of the girls to fuck him upstairs while Tommy and I took his keys and made a cop
y. He won’t have any idea.”

  “Keep your fucking voice down.”

  What the hell are they talking about?

  “Right, this isn’t the time.”

  Whatever it is, it’s got my fiancé on edge. I don’t know much about his work, other than what everyone else already knows: construction scams, extortion, the ubiquitous money-laundering Salerno cheese, etc.

  “No sign of my future in-laws so far.”

  He should be glad they aren’t here.

  It’s a peaceful, quiet party. Pristine white dishes sit on the rustic tables, the waiters slowly gathering them as I sit in one of the wooden chairs of the outdoor garden of Le Zinc. I’m possessed by a sleepy lull brought on by a full stomach, and darkness slowly descends over the party. Soft lights in the trees illuminate the tables.

  A tall man with rugged good looks walks into the courtyard, a baby in his arms. Johnny’s small circle breaks to greet him, “Tony!” A small woman, who I’m assuming is Tony’s wife, gives Johnny a scathing look and heads for my table, ignoring him completely. She looks unhappy to be here.

  She’s my new favorite person.

  The men crowd around the baby, and a huge grin lights up Johnny’s face when it reaches out and grabs his finger.

  “She has a strong grip.”

  Smiling, I turn back to the woman, who watches her baby anxiously. She notices me and smiles reluctantly.

  “Hi, sorry, I’m Elena.”

  “I’m Maya.”

  We shake hands and she falls back into her chair, looking at me curiously.

  “I’m the one who got knocked up.”

  “O—oh!”

  My face heats up. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

  Elena’s anxious face breaks into a smile. “No, it’s okay. Are you—ah—excited?”

  Everyone keeps asking that, and I don’t know how to feign excitement. I am nervous about it, but everyone expects me to scream about how lucky I am to marry Johnny Cravotta, the boss of the family. The king of Montreal.

  “I don’t know.”

  Elena’s voice lowers so that I can barely hear her. “You don’t have to marry him.”

  Well, that’s a first.

  My skin crawls and I look around for Johnny, but he’s still playing with the baby. No one is within earshot.

  “I don’t have much of a choice,” I say in an undertone.

  But I find it bothers me less than it did a couple weeks ago. He’s not a horrible man. I’ll be treated well, far better than any of the guys in the MC would have treated me. It’s just not every girl’s dream, you know? Marrying the guy who knocks you up—who dreams about that?

  “You don’t have to be with him if you don’t want to.”

  I look at her, wondering who this woman is and why she has the courage to say such things to me. Johnny would go nuts if he knew one of the guests at his engagement party was trying to convince me not to marry him.

  “Maya, I know you don’t know me, but you don’t know him.”

  “You do?”

  She drags her arms across the table and raps on the wood with her fingers, debating whether to tell me or not.

  “My husband used to work for Johnny. He almost got both of us killed. He’s a self-righteous, arrogant, cold bas—person,” she amends quickly, turning a brief shade of red.

  Cold bastard. Even I’ve called him that.

  My heart rattles against my chest, and my gaze flickers toward him. “He’s been okay to me so far.”

  Her deep-brown eyes bore into mine. “You barely know him.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “You have to get out of this Mafia shit. It won’t end well for you or your baby.”

  My heart thuds against my chest. I don’t want to hear this kind of crap—not now, when I’m already in too deep.

  “Ladies, having fun?”

  The scream catches in my throat as Johnny’s voice cuts through the tension. He leans with one hand on the table, clutching the edge as his eyes smolder with an indeterminate amount of cool rage.

  “We’re fine,” Elena says, standing up without speaking to him and walking back to her husband.

  Johnny watches her leave. “Bitch.”

  What just fucking happened?

  The bench creaks as Johnny sits down beside me and lays his hand on my leg. “What did she say to you?”

  I don’t know why I’m so unnerved by that woman, who is already hanging by her husband’s side.

  “She doesn’t like you very much.”

  He sneers in her direction and gives her a little wave. Elena tugs her husband’s arm, giving him a frightened glance.

  Jesus.

  “What the fuck is that all about?”

  Johnny gives my concern a dismissive gesture.

  “She’s just trying to start trouble because she hates me.”

  “Why does she hate you?”

  “I made a mistake and put her husband’s life at risk. It’s a long story.”

  Well, that explains her hostility, but it still doesn’t explain why she was practically begging me to get away from him.

  His eyes follow the direction of my gaze. “She’s not the first person you’ll come across who won’t care for me.”

  “Well, Jesus.”

  “People don’t like the man in charge. You should know that better than anyone.”

  My mouth twists. “I don’t like him because he’s a bastard, not because he’s in charge.”

  He looks around the small courtyard, at the men milling with drinks in their hands and guns strapped to their waists. “I don’t care if they don’t like me. They just need to respect me.”

  “What about me?”

  A heart-stopping smirk reappears at his mouth and he grabs my chin between his fingers. “You like me.”

  “Yeah, but what if I didn’t?”

  His head turns suddenly so that he whispers right into my ear. “I can live with you hating me so long as I have your pussy available to me whenever I want.”

  A violent shudder runs through my body when his lips kiss the shell of my ear.

  “Carlos!”

  “Get out of my way, asshole.”

  Oh shit.

  The blood drains from my upper limbs as Johnny pulls away from me, his head perking up with the air of a hound scenting a rabbit. A small group stands at the entrance of the courtyard, their dirty leather cuts at odds with everyone else. I recognize Tanner and Blaze standing next to my dad, who pushes aside an older woman with raven-black hair—Mom!

  They’re actually here.

  Oh God, this is about to get ugly.

  Through his grizzled mane of hair, he spots me sitting down at the table, Johnny at my side. Hair swinging wildly, my dad walks across the courtyard, making a beeline straight toward me.

  François heads off my dad before he can take a couple steps, placing both palms on his chest as the rest of Johnny’s men frisk my dad’s entourage. They back away, finding nothing, and Johnny slowly rises to his feet.

  “Stay here, Maya.”

  My legs lock together as he walks away to meet Dad, but I just can’t get over this impending sense of doom. Shit is going to get bad, really fast.

  It takes seconds for me to jog up to Johnny’s side, and he gives me a stern look that I ignore. Whatever. He doesn’t know how to handle my dad. I do.

  “Carlos, I’m glad you could come.”

  Dad looks as though he hasn’t shaved in about a week and his eyes have a permanent red tinge. My ball-busting mom stands behind him, looking wrecked. Her hair’s a mess and her makeup is half made up, as though she forgot about it halfway through applying her mascara. Her pale lips tremble when she sees me, and suddenly I can’t hold back the dam.

  What has he fucking done to her?

  “Maya!”

  Suddenly what I want most in the world right now is just to feel Mom’s arms around me. Am I fucking crying? I take a step toward her, but a cold, clammy grip holds me in place. Johnn
y’s hand curls around my elbow, his face grim.

  “Let me go!”

  “I need to talk to my daughter alone.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  Johnny speaks in a polite tone, but Dad reacts by spitting on the ground, dangerously close to Johnny’s feet.

  “I don’t take orders from you anymore, John.”

  “Our business arrangement still stands.”

  “You fucked over our alliance when you decided to stick your dick in my daughter.”

  A small crowd gathered nearby erupts into scandalized gasps, and Johnny glares at me, jerking his head.

  No, I’m not fucking leaving!

  Johnny steps in Dad’s space, their faces inches from each other as rage ripples off my father’s body. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

  “I told you, I don’t take orders from pieces of shit like you.”

  Jesus Christ.

  “I let you run your fucking mouth at that meeting—I won’t let you do it here at my fucking engagement party.”

  In slow motion, I watch as Dad lifts his hands and shoves the boss’ chest. Johnny stumbles back, which seems to be just what his soldiers were waiting for.

  Everyone knows that you don’t get physical with the boss. You don’t touch him.

  They draw their guns, and Mom and Dad are right in the line of fire.

  “Do you have a fucking death wish?” one of them screams.

  “STOP! That’s my mom!”

  I shove one of them aside and sprint into the thick of that circle, ignoring Johnny’s outrage. “Maya!”

  She wraps her arms around me, and I squeeze her middle, breathing in the smell of her clothes—smoke and gunpowder. God, I missed her.

  “Back off!”

  Over my mom’s shoulder, I watch as they lower their guns. Blood pounds through the veins in my head. I hear the roar almost drowning out Johnny’s voice.

  “Let’s go somewhere private to talk.”

  Johnny motions with his head and two of his soldiers follow Dad as I trail behind with Mom. We walk inside the empty restaurant and Johnny sits behind his usual table. It’s pleasantly cool inside, but dark. Mom sits beside me.

  “Are you okay, baby?”

  “I-I’m fine. I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  God, having her here makes me realize that there are a lot of people back home who I care about.

  “What happened to Chuck? Is he all right?”

 

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