Kissing the Killer: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Barone Crime Family)

by Hamel, B. B.

  I nodded but said nothing.

  “Me too,” she said. “I want to give power to the powerless. That’s why I save these women forced into sex slavery. That’s why I want to help you.”

  “I don’t trust you,” Brooks said. “You’re a Barone. You’re one of them. Why the hell would I believe you?”

  She sighed. “Because, Brooks, you have no other choice.”

  Just then, men flooded into the room, men wearing black masks and carrying weapons. Brooks reached for his gun, but in the heat of the moment, I found myself throwing myself at him. I grabbed his arm, stopping him just as the men reached us. They quickly disarmed Brooks and grabbed me, ripping me away from him.

  Black hoods were shoved over our heads. Strong hands pulled me along, shoving me, pushing me. I stumbled in total darkness, my heart hammering in my chest.

  She wanted to give power to the powerless.

  With a black hood over my head, I felt more powerless than I ever had before.

  17

  Brooks

  That was not at all how I wanted that meeting to fucking go down. When planning this out, I didn’t for a second imagine getting swarmed by armed men in black ski masks and getting a black bag shoved over my head.

  I couldn’t see a fucking thing as I stumbled along, led like a dog by some goon with a gun. I’d wanted to pull my weapon, to at least take a few of the bastards down before they got me, but Emma had stopped me. I didn’t know what she was thinking, why she wanted to be a part of this, but it was too late now.

  We were both black-bagged and getting dragged along by Louisa Barone.

  I couldn’t help but think the whole thing was shit. How could Louisa Barone be running one of the most dangerous up-and-coming gangs in the city? She was living in the Barone family’s mansion, right in the center of the mafia’s power structure. There was just no way she could run a serious crew from there.

  But what I saw of the guys who came into the room before they black bagged me was pretty convincing. They had looked just like the Spiders I saw the other night, right down to the black masks and the weapons.

  Fuck, this was bad. If Louisa was working for the mafia, we were both fucked. As far as I knew, only Abram actually knew what Emma looked like, but if my problem had escalated all the way up to the top of the Barone family, they probably all knew about it.

  Or maybe Louisa really was running the Spiders. If that was the case, we were being abducted by a notoriously violent gang that was known for stealing women away, never to be seen or heard from again.

  As I shuffled along, getting prodded in the back every few steps for being too slow, I couldn’t help but feel like we were being disappeared too.

  I stumbled into a few racks and boxes as I moved along, banging my shin at least once. The Spiders were quiet all around us and nobody spoke. The rooms we moved through felt airy and huge, cavernous and quiet, but I really had no fucking clue where we were. I tried to listen for any telltale signs, but there was nothing, just quiet cut by the sounds of our footsteps and breathing.

  It was incredibly eerie the way the Spiders stayed so quiet. I was worried about Emma and could only imagine how this was playing out in her mind. She’d never been in a position like this before, though then again I never had either. The main difference was, I’d risked my life before and she hadn’t.

  Eventually I heard a large door opening, deep and booming. I felt sunlight on my skin, warmth spreading over my body, but nothing got in through the hood. I heard a car’s engine running and a door open, and then I was carefully hustled into the back of what felt like a large van.

  There was more movement around me, and eventually the van started moving.

  “You okay?” I said softly.

  “Brooks?” Emma’s voice.

  “I’m here,” I said.

  “I’m okay,” she answered.

  “Quiet, both of you,” a woman’s voice said from very close by.

  I went silent and leaned back up against the rough metal side of the van. I was guessing we were in some kind of industrial van large enough to fit at least most of the group that had taken us. The woman’s voice wasn’t Louisa Barone’s, so I had no clue if she was along for the ride or not.

  My hands were still free, but they were useless. I felt around the space a little bit until I felt a hard jab in my chest.

  “Sit still,” the woman said.

  “Where are we going?” I asked her.

  “Talk again and I’ll hurt you.” I felt her jab the hard thing into my chest again, and she left it there for a moment.

  I assumed she had a gun pressed to my heart, and so I decided it was best just to sit back and relax.

  It was hard to enjoy the ride, what with the black bag shoved over my head. Normally a nice leisurely drive around the city was nice, especially with the weather so perfect. Turned out that getting abducted and black bagged really put a damper on the whole fun thing.

  We drove for a while, though it was hard to keep exact time. When your head was in a black bag and you had nothing to help you mark the minutes, it got difficult to tell exactly how long you’d been moving. I had a feeling that we weren’t in the city anymore, though, as the van began to stop less and less. That meant there were fewer stop signs and streetlights.

  I estimated we drove for a half hour at least. The van turned off a normal road and began to drive down what felt like a gravel driveway or an unpaved path or something like that. I could hear the tires bumping around and rocks getting flung up into the undercarriage.

  Soon enough, the van stopped. The door opened and I was dragged out. I stumbled along, assuming Emma was right behind me.

  We walked for a bit and then I heard two voices, both women.

  “Is the room ready?”

  “Yeah. It’s good.”

  Then nothing else. We walked up some wooden steps and then I heard a door open. We were hustled inside a structure, up another staircase, down a long hallway, and through another door.

  The person leading me suddenly disappeared. I couldn’t feel her hand on my shoulder anymore. I heard more footsteps and some breathing as the door to the room shut.

  I stood there silently for a second.

  “Emma?” I asked.

  “Brooks. I’m okay.”

  “Is there anyone else in here?”

  There was nothing. Silence.

  I slowly reached up and grabbed my bag. Slowly, so slowly, I pulled it off my head.

  Emma stood a foot away from me, the bag still covering her face. She was inching around the room, hands out, feeling for something to guide her.

  “Emma, it’s okay,” I said. “Take off your bag.”

  She reached up and tentatively pulled it off.

  “Brooks,” she said, and walked over to me. I wrapped my arms around her.

  “We’re good,” I said. “We’re okay.”

  “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  The room itself wasn’t large. There was a queen bed, a dresser, and a small side table. There wasn’t much else in the space, and although there was a window, there were bars blocking it.

  “Looks like a bedroom,” I said as I walked over to the window.

  Emma came up next to me. “We’re not in the city anymore.”

  “No,” I grunted, “we’re not.”

  Forest spread out all around us. There was maybe fifteen feet until the tree line started.

  “Any idea how long we drove?” she asked.

  “Half hour is my guess, but I really don’t know.”

  She nodded and sat down on the bed. “Why did they do that?”

  “I don’t know that, either.” I sat next to her. “But friends don’t usually drag their friends off with black hoods over their fucking heads.”

  “That’s a good point.”

  I grinned at her. “Happy you came with me?”

  “Not at this moment, no. Not really.”

  I laughed. �
�This is what my life is like, dangerous and violent.”

  “So you get a black bag over your face a lot then?”

  I smirked. “That was a first.”

  “Well look at you. Apparently you haven’t done everything.”

  I leaned closer to her. “I’ve done enough, girl. You learned all about that last night.”

  Before she could answer, there was a short knock at the door before it pushed open.

  A woman stepped inside, quickly shutting the door behind her. She had blond hair pulled back into a tight braid and wore a flannel button-down shirt and tight jeans. She had a large rifle loosely hanging down from her shoulder.

  “Brooks, Emma. I’m Kasia.”

  I stood up. “Kasia. Where the fuck is Louisa?”

  “Lou couldn’t come with us, but I’m her second in command,” she said. “I want to start by apologizing for this.”

  I stepped toward her but she didn’t flinch. I saw her hand drift slowly toward her weapon and grinned at her.

  “Why are we here?”

  “You were under surveillance, Brooks,” she said. “We had to take action quickly before we were discovered.”

  “Who was watching?”

  “Your boss, Dante,” she said. “Apparently he’s more capable than we realized.”

  “Just him?”

  “Him alone,” she confirmed. “But he got too close.”

  “Why the fucking bags?”

  “We couldn’t wait for you to decide. We had to move. The bags were to protect the location of this safe house in case you both decide you wish to leave.”

  “So you’re still helping us then?” Emma asked, standing.

  Kasia smiled at her. “Of course we are. Did Lou tell you what we do?”

  “She said she gave power to the powerless.”

  Kasia laughed. “That’s just the way Lou talks sometimes. Really, we combat human trafficking. We save lives, Emma. That’s what we do.”

  “I saw what you do,” I said quickly. “You don’t save lives.”

  “Yes, well, that operation got out of hand, thanks to you,” she admitted. “We prefer to save these girls with a lot less bloodshed, but things happen.”

  “They do happen,” I sneered. “I don’t appreciate getting a bag over my fucking head without my permission.”

  “Brooks,” Emma said, and came up behind me. “Calm down.” She put her hand on my arm.

  I realized how fucking tense I was. I wanted to tear Kasia apart, even though that went against everything I believed in. I wanted to tear her fucking smug smile from her face and shove it down her throat. I hated being locked in a cage, but more than that, I hated how Emma took everything she said at face value. These people were liars and killers, but she couldn’t see it.

  “Here’s the deal,” Kasia said. “You’re not prisoners, not exactly, but we do need to keep you inside this room. We can’t risk either of you running away and betraying our location. We have other women here who need our help too, and we can’t risk their lives.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” Emma said.

  “So,” Kasia went on, “if you want to leave this room, just knock. There’s a guard nearby that will escort you around.”

  “How about you let me leave right now?” I asked Kasia.

  “If that’s what you want,” she said. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea. You two should stay here. We’re safe, far away from the mafia. Soon we’ll figure out a way for you both to escape the state and to set up new lives.”

  “Sounds too fucking good to be true,” I grumbled at her.

  “Maybe,” she said, “but this is Lou’s dream, helping the helpless.” She smiled at Emma. “I’ll be back to check on you two later.” She turned and quickly left the room, shutting the door behind her.

  I walked over to the door and tried the knob, but it was locked. I knew I could probably force it, but if there really were guards, then it wouldn’t be worthwhile.

  Emma came over to me and put her hands on my arms again. “Come on, Brooks,” she said. “Sit down with me. Let’s figure this out.”

  I grunted and sat on the edge of the bed, rage rolling through me. Emma sat down next to me.

  “Let’s stay,” she said. Before I could disagree, she spoke over me. “At least for a little bit. Let’s figure out what they’re all about.”

  “I think that’s a very bad idea,” I said. “These people are killers, Emma. I’ve seen it.”

  “Maybe they are, but maybe they really want to help.”

  “You can’t just trust everyone.”

  She frowned. “I know that.”

  “You can’t just trust these people.”

  “Like I trust you.”

  I clenched my jaw. “I proved myself to you.”

  “Let them do the same then.”

  “Fuck,” I said.

  Emma stood up. “I’m going to go look around.”

  “What? No. Stay here.”

  “You wait for me,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

  She walked over to the door and knocked before I could stop her. A second later, another woman opened the door, this one a bit older than Kasia though dressed in similar clothes.

  “Hi,” Emma said. “I was hoping I could take a look around.”

  “Sure,” the woman said, “but only one of you at a time, at least until another guard can come look after the big boy here.”

  Emma grinned at me. “Hear that, big boy? You’ll have to wait for an escort.”

  “Emma,” I said, “please just stay here.”

  “I’ll be fine. What are you afraid of?”

  “I’m coming then,” I said.

  She smiled and then stepped out into the hall.

  The guard looked in at me. “I’ll get an escort for you. Just sit tight.” The door shut and locked.

  I stood there, staring at the closed door, anger welling up in me. I couldn’t be mad at Emma for any of this, since she was only doing what she felt was right. She was making it hard to protect her, though, running off like that.

  No, I was pissed off at these fucking Spiders. They talked about freeing women and saving lives, but so far all I’d seen was death, violence, and jail cells. They talked a big game, but I didn’t trust them, not one tiny bit, not yet.

  They were going to have to prove themselves to me. I sat down on the bed and waited.

  I was willing to give them a chance, if only because Emma wanted me to, but at the first sign of any sort of fucking shit, I was going to get us far away from here and never look back.

  18

  Emma

  Marta, my escort, followed me like a shadow. I tried to engage her in conversation once or twice, but she just didn’t seem all that interested in talking.

  But she did let me walk around wherever I wanted.

  As I wandered the house, I felt like I got a much better sense of who these people were than I could have from anything they might have told me. Upstairs I passed a ton of rooms, most of them containing young women. They all smiled at me, but when I tried to talk to them they usually ignored me or spoke a language back that I couldn’t understand.

  “Sex slaves,” Marta commented to me after the third girl ignored me. “Not from here.”

  “Really? These are the girls you saved?”

  She just smiled at me, and I knew the conversation was over.

  The doors to their rooms were open, and they seemed free to move around the house. I was surprised by how big the place was. It clearly used to be an old farm house, but it had been added on to over the years. The walls were old and the wallpaper was peeling, but it was clean and comfortable.

  I went downstairs and found more women in the kitchen. They were cooking something that smelled absolutely amazing. A young girl with bright red hair smiled and said something to me in a language I didn’t understand. Then she held out a bowl of a dark brown soup.

  I took it and took a bite. “Delicious,” I said.

  She sm
iled and nodded and then went back to work. The women were cooking and preparing more food, probably to feed the whole house. I devoured the little meal in a second and placed the bowl in the sink. Marta stood by the doorway, watching me but smiling.

  I found more guards wandering around the grounds, holding rifles, though nobody seemed to be in a hurry. They mainly just smiled at nodded at me as if I were just another guest there.

  There was a large dining room, a living room with a television, several bathrooms, and another large sitting area. I moved out the back door and stood on a large porch with rocking chairs. An older woman was sitting in a chair, knitting something.

  “Hi,” I said to her.

  I was surprised when she looked up. “Hello, dear.”

  Marta stood close behind me. “Can I sit?” I asked her.

  “Of course.”

  I sat down next to her.

  “Marta, dear, would you get us some tea?”

  Marta nodded. “Sure thing, Nan.” She disappeared back inside.

  I looked at the old woman. “Nan?”

  She laughed. “They call me nana because I’m old. I don’t look that old though, do I?”

  “You’re the youngest person here.”

  “Thanks, dear. Massage my ego.”

  “What is this place?”

  She shrugged, knitting. “It’s a halfway house. It’s a safe place. We take in broken women, we try to nurse them back to health, and then we release them into the wild.”

  “How?” I asked her. “How does this place exist?”

  “Louisa Barone.”

  “But why? Aren’t you hurting her family?”

  The woman just kept smiling serenely, knitting as she spoke.

  “Louisa is an interesting woman,” she said. “Maybe we’re hurting her family’s business, but as far as she’s concerned, we’re helping to save them, too. What do you know about human trafficking?”

  “Not much,” I admitted.

  “It’s horrible. They addict these young girls to drugs, get them into debt, and then force them to prostitute themselves until they’re dead or all used up. In Louisa’s mind, saving these women is also helping to save her family’s soul.”