Married to the Bad Boy

by Vanessa Waltz

  The dark tone in her voice bothers me and the look she gives me feels even worse.

  Fire blazes in my chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Red-rimmed eyes stare back at me as she presses her lips together, refusing to respond. Then she finally croaks out, “I don’t have any choices anymore. You control everything. The moment you want a divorce, I’m fucked. I’m finished.”

  I grasp her chin, watching the tears slowly pooling in her eyes.

  “He’ll always be there, waiting. Won’t he? I’ll never be free of him.”

  “He won’t, Elena.”

  “Oh, come on, Tony!” She pulls away from my grasp. “Let’s just stop deceiving ourselves. You’re not the type of guy who’ll be happy with this forever. You’ll get bored of me. You’ll want someone else.”

  The sounds coming from her make my chest feel as if it’s caving in. My arms wrap around her because I can’t fucking stand it. Is she right?

  “I won’t let him hurt you. If things don’t work out between us, I’ll take care of him.”

  Her eyes widen. “You’d be killed.”

  “The way I see it, I’m dying either way.”

  One of these days, I’ll get shot. That’ll be it.

  “I’d rather die protecting you than from a botched drug deal.”

  Her voice softens. “Tony.”

  “Stop it. I don’t want to hear any more of this shit from you. Understand? You’re my fucking wife. Act like it.”

  “But—”

  I pull her head closer. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

  She looks away from me and bites her lip. “I—I have to tell you something—”

  I recognize that look and sigh. “Whatever it is, it can wait. I want to salvage what’s left of this wedding.”

  Nodding, she gives me a weak smile and a pat on the hand, and I feel another surge of anger. This should be a happy day for her—fuck, for both of us.

  No one should cry on their wedding day.

  * * *

  These places always give me hives.

  I walk through the woods with Johnny and his underboss, Pierre-Luc. Twigs snap under their feet as they walk behind me. I ball my hands in the sleeves of my leather jacket. How many times have I driven out to a deserted place in the woods to get rid of some poor prick’s body? It’s perfectly devoid of people. Too cold for hikers, but the ground is no good for digging a hole. Frozen.

  The New York boss is meeting us here and so is that fuckface, Rafael.

  We’ll solve this shit once and for all.

  My mind focuses on the girl—my wife—waiting for me at home, who has no idea that this meeting is even happening. The wedding band feels tight around my finger—I’m still not used to it, but it’s not suffocating.

  She’s mine. I wanted her the moment I laid eyes on her. Had to have her. I had to fuck the Mafia princess, just had to stick my dick in her. Then it was an addiction. I had to have her again and again. There was never a girl who made me want to break my no repeats rule. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but somewhere in between all the fucking, I felt for her. There’s no way I’ll allow that piece of shit to hurt her any more than he already has.

  It all depends on this meeting.

  The New York boss waits for us under the shade of a tree. He’s a tall, skinny guy with wavy black hair and a short black beard. Beside him, shit-for-brains stands. His face looks like someone took a meat tenderizer to him and I can’t resist giving him a small smirk.

  “Hey, John.”

  “Vincent.” He gives the New York boss a short nod and turns his smooth face toward Rafael. “I’m glad your injuries are healing.”

  Rafael curls his lip and looks as if he’s on the verge of a nasty retort.

  “Can we get this over with so I can get the fuck out of here?” Vince looks anxious as he addresses me. “Both of you have legitimate beefs against each other.”

  My throat burns. “What the fuck did I do except defend my pregnant wife against this psycho?”

  Rafael makes an ugly, almost grotesque, grimace. “Your pregnant wife is carrying my kid.”

  “I have to side with Tony, Vince. They married as soon as they found out about the pregnancy and as soon as that happened, that asshole showed up at their reception and started screaming threats.”

  Vince runs his hand over his harried face and gives Rafael a very unpleasant look. “I told you to leave her the fuck alone.”

  “She’s pregnant—”

  “I don’t give a fuck! I gave you a fucking order, and you hit her again, didn’t you?” His hot eyes bore into Rafael’s face and then he laughs and looks away. “You fucking deserve this beating.”

  Wow, I didn’t expect the New York boss to turn on his own guy. Things are looking up. My hand strays toward the gun I’ve hidden in my jacket.

  “Vince, I know I fucked up, but this is actually real. I’m going to be a father. I saw her pregnancy tests.”

  Wait, what?

  I face the prick. “The fuck are you talking about?”

  “I went to her house. I—I thought that it was a scam, but I made her take some tests, and they were positive.” He turns toward Vince and speaks in a trembling voice. “All I want is to be there for my kid. I just want to be a part of his life. I should at least be allowed to go to doctor appointments with her.”

  Vince crosses his arms, looking unmoved. “No.”

  The air leaves my chest and I look around for something to grab. He’s lying. He’s full of shit. Has to be.

  “When the fuck did this happen?”

  “A couple weeks ago.” He gives me a nasty grin. “I guess she doesn’t tell you everything.”

  Grabbing the gun from my waist, I aim it toward Rafael’s mangled face as heat pounds in my head.

  “Tony, what the fuck are you doing!”

  I never lose my cool like this. I’m not the explosion guy, but there’s something about Rafael that brings it out of me. I hate that motherfucker.

  “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

  Vince already has his gun out, aimed at my chest. “Jesus Christ. Calm down. You don’t want to do this.”

  “Actually, I really do. He disrespected me. He’s going behind my back and seeing her without my permission.”

  The fact that he actually got her while I wasn’t around is the worst part. A stab of anger extends to her, too. She never told me.

  “A wife you only have because you think you knocked her up. I don’t see why I have to respect you or that bitch.”

  “SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

  Johnny shoves my arm as I squeeze off a shot, which blows a fist-sized hole into a tree. He wrenches the gun from my hand, screaming his head off as Vince shoves his gun into his pants.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, you goddamn moron.” Vince says savagely as Rafael stands strangely still, indifferent to the fact that he almost died. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You leave them the fuck alone. You’re done with them. Come back to New York and forget about Elena.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “Until paternity is established, you leave them the fuck alone. Tony, does that work for you?”

  No. Not by a long shot.

  My insides simmer as Rafael looks at me with a wild, desperate rage that I just can’t ignore. I don’t trust him to stay away, not even to protect his own life. My hand inches toward the knife I’ve strapped to my waist, because I’m convinced he’s on the verge of doing something drastic.

  “Whatever.”

  “Vincent, this is bullshit!”

  The New York boss finally loses his temper and whirls around, his jacket whistling in the air as his fist cracks across Rafael’s jaw.

  “You’re a real pain in my ass, Rafael. Piss me off again, and I’ll kill you.”

  Even as he moans on the dirty snow, I can’t look away from him. The whining, the moans, it all sounds so fucking fake to me. The ste
ely vengeance flashes from his eyes and I just want to end him right there.

  There’s nothing more dangerous than a man with nothing to lose.

  ELENA

  Swirls of coffee steam rise in the air in wonderful spirals as I blow air across the rich, dark-brown liquid. I take a sip and my tongue curls, loving the sprinkle of spice. I smile at Melanie, who sits across the table. She called me up on the phone and wondered if I wanted to go out for coffee. All Tony’s doing, probably.

  “So, what’s married life like?”

  I shrug my shoulder. How the hell should I know? The whole thing is a farce, except that there really is a baby growing inside me.

  I still can’t fucking believe it.

  Call it karma or cosmic justice, but this was the last thing I wanted. What would Dad say? My insides clench as I think about the horrified reaction on his face. He probably would be glad that at the very least, I’m marrying the guy who knocked me up.

  And then what? For the life of me, I can’t picture what my future is supposed to look like. I have this kid, and then what?

  Two words: single mom.

  It’s a pretty bleak future, but somehow it makes the lies a little more forgivable. Lying to them was hard because it was really like inheriting a second family. There were so many gifts and hugs and kisses on the cheek, and everyone was so friendly.

  ’Course they are. You’re his wife. If you weren’t married, they’d tell you to fuck off.

  “Everything happened so quickly.”

  Even the ring on my finger feels foreign, as though I’m in someone else’s body. Though, of course, we’re supposed to keep up with this charade and I’m supposed to be—what? It’s not exactly a girl’s dream to marry the guy who knocks you up.

  “I can’t even imagine what you must be going through.”

  “Honestly, I just want a good bagel from home. The ones here—they’re not really the same.”

  “God, I know!” Melanie happily seizes on the topic and we spend time reminiscing about home.

  “And what the hell is with the kissing? It’s a bit weird, isn’t it?”

  “Nah, I’m pretty sure it’s a French thing. Like shaking hands. I think they call it, la bise.”

  I click my tongue and let the French roll over my tongue. “La bees.”

  She laughs at my poor attempt and I throw a napkin at her. The door opens and a gust of cold air make me clasp my mug of hot coffee.

  “Oh, hey, Tony.”

  I look up in surprise to see my husband giant form standing over us with a very dark look on his face. He ignores Melanie’s greeting.

  “Get up, you’re leaving.”

  “I just got here. What’s your problem?” I shoot Melanie a look, silently apologizing for his rudeness.

  “We need to fucking talk,” he says in a voice that bears no argument. Then he turns toward Melanie. “Sorry about this.”

  Melanie waves him off, looking slightly disappointed as I stand up.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with him. We’ll do it again sometime.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  An impatient rap on the glass makes my muscles tense. What the fuck is his problem? I follow him outside.

  “You were so rude to her,” I tell him the moment the door swings shut. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  He grabs my wrist and drags me to a secluded corner, his lips white and shaking. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me. You’re a fucking liar.”

  “What?”

  The acidic tone cuts me to my core. I don’t know what he’s talking about, but the vicious look he gives me makes me swallow down bitter guilt.

  “You were pregnant with that jackass’s kid the whole time, weren’t you? He told me that he made you take pregnancy tests.” He searches my stunned face. “Well, is it true?”

  “Tony, that’s not really—”

  “Jesus.”

  His eyes fracture in pain and he turns away from me as though he can’t stand the sight of me. I feel like the worst human being on the planet.

  “Tony, I have to tell you what happened.”

  “Fucking save it,” he hurls over his shoulder.

  I step in front of him. The furious look on his face scares me—that hint of a predator that I saw in the bar lifts his head and glares at me—and I swallow hard, hoping he won’t just brush me aside.

  “Trust me, you want to hear this.” I take a deep, shuddering breath. “It was the day I went to get some of my stuff. Rafael was waiting for me, and he had the tests. He wanted to know it was true.” I swallow hard as Tony gives me a venomous look. “They were positive. I didn’t know I was pregnant.

  “Tony—it’s your—it’s your baby.”

  “What?”

  He stands there, his white face suddenly bloodless like the snow under his feet. The silence is deafening between us. The traffic from the street muffles to a distant murmur as my heart beats in my head. My mouth opens and closes. Why the fuck is this so hard?

  Please don’t hate me.

  I talk in a very small voice. “I—I forgot to take my pills, my birth control, the first…couple times we were together.”

  “You what? You forgot to take your fucking pills?”

  I nod shamefacedly and he swears so loudly that it echoes down the alley.

  “I don’t believe this.”

  “It’s real. I’ve been to the doctor. I-I’m sorry, Tony.”

  His hands tremble as he rakes them through his hair, looking anywhere but at me. He doesn’t want to acknowledge it. I don’t blame him.

  I’m sorry I got pregnant with your kid, who you obviously don’t want. I’m sorry I entered into your life at all.

  I’m just sorry.

  “When were you going to fucking tell me?”

  “I know, it’s just—there was so much shit going on, and I was afraid to tell you,” I force myself to raise my voice, “and I just want to say that you don’t have to do anything—you don’t have to be in its life. I totally understand.”

  He seizes his hair and pulls, shaking his head. “I cannot fucking believe this.”

  My heart stalls. I knew it—I knew he’d be like this, but it’s still like a spike to my heart.

  “I’m sor—”

  “I don’t want this!” he explodes. “What kind of fucking father can I be? I’m not fit to be one at all.”

  Tears spill down my cheeks. “That’s not true.”

  “How the fuck would you know?”

  He looks at me with the air of someone being clubbed on the head. He’s right, isn’t he? He’s a Mafioso. I’m just waiting to die, he said.

  “You’re a good man. I know you don’t like to believe it—”

  Wild, strangled laughter cuts me off. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you are dead wrong about that. You don’t know me. You don’t know a thing about the life I lead.”

  “Actually, I do. My dad was a boss, remember?”

  That shit-eating grin is back on his face as he pins me against the wall, nudging my thighs open with his leg. I always feel so small when he surrounds me like that. It’s not just his size. It’s his presence: overwhelming and intoxicating at the same time. The energy between us shifts as he takes my waist in his hands, as his knee grinds my pussy. It’s electric. My heart pounds, and I can’t breathe as he leans in closer.

  “Yeah, I know all about you Mafia princesses. Daddy would have never showed you the dark side of his business. You only saw the clothes, the jewelry, the charity gala dinners—”

  “I’m not an idiot, Tony. I read the papers, and I was smart enough not to swallow every lie he tried to feed us.”

  “Reading about it in the paper,” he sneers. “Last night, I spent eight hours torturing some poor fuck with his head trapped in a vise. Do you know what happens to someone’s head when it’s crushed? The eyes pop out.”

  A cruel mask slides over Tony’s face, and it occurs to me that he might be right. That I might not kn
ow this man at all. Darkness swirls in his eyes, but they’re the same ones that dented with pain when told me that he never wanted this life for himself.

  “Why are you trying to scare me?” My voice grows stronger. “What exactly are you trying to accomplish, here? The baby’s coming whether you like it or not.”

  “I’m trying to make you understand that I’m not a good man. I shouldn’t be in any kid’s life. I’m nothing but a bad influence.”

  “You don’t have to be in its life.”

  The thigh nudges me again, and a ripple of desire moves up my body. The things he says makes my stomach cave in. Pressure builds up behind my eyes, and I’m pissed off, too. I don’t believe that he’d be a bad influence. He’s the one who saved me without asking for a single dime in return.

  “I’m going to be in the kid’s life. I just don’t know for how long.” He touches my face gently as another tear rolls down my cheek. His other hand curls around my waist, smoothing over my belly. His gaze softens for a moment. Then suddenly he pulls my arm and I scramble after him in the streets.

  “Tony, where are we going?”

  We stop in front of his car and he opens the door, pointing inside.

  “Get in.”

  During the car ride home, Tony keeps a stoic silence that I think is a front for his barely constrained panic. I study the tic in his jaw, the way his eyes focus on the streets without ever once glancing at me, and I wonder what the hell he’s thinking. I wonder if he’ll just end things between us.

  Can I blame him?

  When we get home, Tony dissolves into nervous energy. I show him the test results from the doctor, the missing pills from my birth control, and it all crashes on his head. The paper trembles in his hand. I can’t tell whether he’s furious or terrified.

  “It’s really mine?”

  My arms wrap around my middle as he looks at me under his dark locks. “I’m positive.”

  He lets out a long exhale and collapses into a chair in the kitchen. The test results sit on the kitchen table, and he stares at the paper as if it’ll magically turn negative if he looks at it long enough. I can’t stand the sight of him like this.

  Shaking, I leave the kitchen to sit on the sofa in the living room. I try to imagine raising a kid in this place, and then in my mind’s image I see Tony’s face, contorted with rage as a shrill cry wakes him up from sleep. He didn’t ask for this. Is it fair to expect him to take responsibility? Should I do everything because it’s my fault? Is it my fault?