Married to the Bad Boy

by Vanessa Waltz

  “Wait,” the old fuck begs. “Just wait a second. The Italian was the one who put us up to this. He never said to kill you. We weren’t going t—”

  BAM.

  His head explodes into fragments of skull and brain matter, which vomits out the back of his head. His body lands with a loud thump to the floor.

  The bikers hardly blink an eye.

  “Thank you guys,” I say through my swollen jaw. “How the fuck did you know I was here?”

  “Thank your wife.”

  My wife?

  I grasp his tattooed arm and he gives me a once over. “Jesus, we should get you to a hospital.”

  “I need to see my wife first.”

  “She’s fine. I got one of my guys watching her.”

  “I’m going home to check on my wife. You can either help me or not.”

  My heart thuds, blood sluggishly pulsing from my wounds. Fuck, I feel as if I’m going to pass out. Only sheer willpower puts one step in front of the other. I burst out of the dank room and almost trip over the couple bodies strewn on the floor. Julien gives one of them a fierce kick.

  “Good thing we found this place. Looks like their stronghold. Pathetic fucks.”

  I don’t know where the hell I am and it’s pitch black outside. Jesus, how long was I out?

  I pile in the van waiting for us, and the vice president steps outside. “Hurry the fuck up before the cops get here.”

  Everyone shoves themselves inside the van and I close my hand over the wound in my side, which throbs with increasing intensity. It’s like a stabbing pain that’s impossible to ignore or distract from. Pain, pain, pain. My mind flashes with words like: searing flesh.

  “He doesn’t look too good.”

  “I’m fucking fine,” I roar, my voice punctuated with pain. “I need to see her first.”

  “You’re lucky she hired us.”

  Hired? What the fuck is going on?

  The pieces fall together when we stop in front of my house. Johnny’s car is there and a needle of pain goes right through my heart. She must have asked him for help, but he wouldn’t give it to her.

  One of the bikers hurries out of the van to help me climb the steps, but I shove him out of the way.

  “I can do it myself!”

  “Tony, you have two gunshot wounds.”

  I’m fine—I just fucking need to see her. I need to make sure nothing happened to her. I palm the door, and a bloody handprint smears as I push it open.

  “Elena!” I yell into the apartment.

  Footsteps run toward me, and then I see Elena’s widened, red face and my heart clenches.

  “Tony! Oh my God, you’re—you’re hurt!”

  She rushes toward me and I wrap my arms around her waist, an incredible wave of relief crashing over me. My eyes burn suddenly and I dig my fingers into her clothes, willing myself not to cry out.

  Anything could have happened to her.

  Her chest shakes against mine as she succumbs to tears, clutching me so fiercely that I grunt in pain. She pulls back, tears burning red paths down her face as she touches my jaw tenderly.

  “Jesus, what did they do to you?”

  “I love you, Elena.”

  Her lips tremble with a spark of happiness, and I feel it grow inside my chest.

  “I never got to say it before they took me, and it was all I could think about.”

  My vision swims and I stumble backward. Elena looks horrified.

  “Okay, he needs a hospital.” I recognize Johnny’s sharp tone and feel a sudden surge of anger toward him.

  His strong arm slides across my shoulders, his hand anchoring under my good one as he lifts me upright and we make our way outside, into his car.

  “You’re driving me, boss? I’ll get blood all over your seats.”

  Elena opens the passenger door for us, her face white. “Get in, Tony.”

  I slide inside and she takes the backseat. God, I’m tired. I just want to fall asleep, even though the leather is fucking freezing against my back.

  Johnny gets inside and starts the car. It screams as we peel out of there.

  “Want to tell me why my wife was forced to go to Les Diables for help?”

  A guilty look crosses Johnny’s face. “I’m sorry, Tony. I didn’t think anything happened to you. I didn’t—”

  “You didn’t believe my wife.” My voice cuts across his and resentment bleeds into my chest. The bullet wounds throb with my rage.

  “She didn’t exactly come to me with much proof.”

  “Seemed to be enough for the bikers.”

  “She paid them—”

  “Of course she fucking did, because my own family didn’t think I was good enough to protect. You would have just left me for dead—”

  “That’s not true. If I had known, I would have put guys out on the street.”

  “You did know. Elena told you.”

  He lifts a hand, shrugging as he turns the wheel and takes a left turn. “Nothing she showed me caused me any concern.”

  “She’s an extension of myself, and you didn’t believe her? Why the fuck would she lie about something like this?”

  “I thought she was being paranoid!” He glowers at me, his young face creased with anger. “I apologize. I didn’t think that fucking moron had the balls to go after you again after Vincent’s warning.”

  Whatever.

  I groan as the pain in my abdomen feels as if it’s twisting inside me, like a sharp blade digging in my flesh. Elena utters a gasp and threads her fingers through my hair.

  “We’re almost there,” she says in a thick voice.

  It feels good to have her hands on my skin. I sigh as she caresses my hair, and Johnny gives us a strange look.

  “All right, we’re here.”

  He slams the brakes and men in white coats dash outside to meet us, rolling a stretcher between them. Johnny opens the door for me and Elena holds her hands to her face, trying to look brave for me.

  “Is he—is he going to be okay?”

  “I don’t know, ma’am.”

  They roll me on the stretcher and I let out a stream of curses as my body flattens on the bed.

  “White male, late twenties, multiple gunshot—”

  My mind drifts as they wheel me into the hospital, Elena keeping pace with them. She squeezes my hand.

  * * *

  “He’s not in this hospital. I’ve my guys searching everywhere for him, but looks like the bastard was smart enough to avoid going to one.”

  A female voice, distracted. “What does that mean?”

  The grim male voice booms out, “It means he’s biding his time. Fuck, maybe he bled out and died in a ditch somewhere. Anyway, I still can’t go to Vincent with this. There’s no proof linking him to the bikers.”

  “I don’t fucking believe this!”

  Something heavy slams against a metallic object that rattles loudly. My eyes crack open and I feel strangely restricted. My chest pulses and the sensation of a strict bandage over my shoulder explains the feeling. An ice bag sits against my cheek, freezing the skin.

  My eyes slide over to John, who stands next to my wife near the window.

  “If you won’t kill him, I will.”

  They both start when they realize I’m awake. A slow smile pulls at Elena’s lips as she approaches my bed and kisses my forehead. She takes the bag of ice away and looks at me through warm eyes. Perfect love and trust shines through them.

  Johnny’s unsmiling face hovers over mine, pulling me irresistibly to the present.

  “My hands are fucking tied, but I can’t ignore this. We’ll take care of him.”

  “Fuck that, I want to be the one to kill that motherfucker.”

  I rip the blanket off my legs and attempt to sit up. My side screams in pain, and Elena pushes me back down. “Don’t be stupid. You’re in no condition.”

  “Fuck my condition.”

  Johnny grins at me. “Did your wife tell you she shot that asshole?
”

  What the fuck?

  Elena lowers her eyes when I glare at her. “What the fuck is he talking about?”

  “I thought you were dead.”

  “Elena, what the fuck happened?”

  She flinches at my tone. “I wanted him to come to me so I could kill him. I almost did.”

  Holy shit.

  “Are you out of your mind? Someone could have seen you. You could have been hurt.”

  Her eyes glimmer with angry tears. “I had to do something!”

  Johnny looks at my wife with a bit of grudging respect. None of the other guys’ wives would have had the balls to do what she did.

  She’s crazy.

  She’s mine.

  “Nothing can be done until we find the guy. Just rest, Tony.”

  Just rest. Easy for him to fucking say.

  A familiar voice yelling down the hallway makes my guts seize.

  Oh fucking no.

  “Where’s my son?”

  “Mrs. Vidal, your son is talking to Johnny.”

  A muffled voice from outside is cut off by my mother’s angry retort.

  “I don’t give a damn about that man. Get out of my way!”

  “Mrs. Vidal!”

  “I’ll go. See you later, Tone.” Johnny gives me a short wave before heading outside. Part of me wants to call him back.

  “Oh fuck.”

  Elena’s hands freeze in my hair as my mother bursts through the door, looking as though she’s aged several years.

  “Oh my God. My son! My beautiful son—what happened?”

  Elena steps away from the bed as Ma comes barreling for me. I brace for the impact as she throws her arms around my neck and squeezes.

  “I’m just a little banged up, Ma.”

  “You were shot! Who did this to you?” She speaks in a low, gritty voice, as though the neighborhood kid beat me up.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  Her face screws up in anger and she swells like a bullfrog. “Don’t worry about it? Why don’t you tell that to your wife and baby? How the hell are you going to raise this kid if you’re getting shot—”

  “Ma, relax.”

  Her mouth trembles as she falls silent, her eyes wrinkled in pain. “Tony, I love you but you are destroying yourself.”

  Her seething voice cuts me deeper than the wounds burrowed in my body. I never wanted this, and I can’t get out.

  “You know I can’t leave.”

  “Try. For their sakes.”

  Elena’s worried face meets mine, and I watch her flatten her shirt over her belly. The one that has my baby growing inside it. Sadness clenches my heart and I let my head fall back on the pillows, blinking rapidly. The thought of leaving them crushes my heart. For the first time in my life, I’m afraid. I don’t want to die.

  Ma’s face hovers over mine, and she seems to understand the turmoil in my head.

  “It’s different when you have a kid, isn’t it?”

  Yeah, it is.

  ELENA

  My hands smooth over Tony’s sculpted arms, tracing over the intricate tattoos inked on his tanned skin. He closes his eyes as if it soothes him to have my hands on him, and then he takes my hand and brings it to his lips. A bump of pleasure lifts my heart as he kisses it, and then his gray eyes open to mine, lust and devotion swirling together.

  We haven’t really said much to each other since it all happened. It was hard getting a moment away from the people constantly visiting him, but now a heavy silence falls over us both.

  “I need to change your bandage.”

  “So change it.”

  A wide smirk staggers over his face as I straddle his waist. I change his shoulder first, gently peeling the bandage coated with rusty blood. He doesn’t make a sound, even though it must sting. His hands stroke my sides as his charcoal eyes never stray from my face.

  All the unsaid things glow from Tony’s gaze. I’m vividly aware that this is the first time we’re actually alone together. No doctors to interrupt us, no mother to pop in unannounced, nothing. Heat builds up between us until I have to wipe my hands over my jeans.

  Underneath my legs, I feel him hardening into a stiff rock. I meet his gaze warily and I inhale a sharp breath. Fuck, he just always looks so delectable. Even now with his five o’ clock shadow, I just want to run my fingers along his jaw and stare into those deep eyes as he rams me hard.

  “Tony, we can’t. The doctor said—”

  “The doctor said a lot of shit.”

  The heat in his voice makes me lick my lips. “Seriously, though. You could hurt yourself.”

  “I’ll fuck you when I want to fuck you, stitches be damned.”

  He leans forward, kissing my neck. The feeling of his lips pressed against mine gently strokes the fire simmering inside me. It’s been a couple weeks since I’ve felt him inside me. We’ve just had stolen kisses in the hospital bed, a hand job while the nurses were occupied, that’s it. Tony’s face blazes with need, his hair already tousled from the many times I’ve run my hands through it.

  “Sweetie, let me do the work.”

  I lift myself and reach down, touching his iron-stiff cock.

  “No, I’ll never let you do that again.”

  I’m not sure what he’s referring to, but then again, Tony’s been odd lately. It must have been his close brush with death. He hasn’t let me out of his sight.

  He stands up and takes my hand, a devilish look on his face. Cock vivid against his jeans, he pulls them down, his biceps straining. I help him undress, kissing the hard bump struggling against his briefs.

  “This fucking wife of mine.” He stares down at me, his eyes shining. “You saved my life, and I hate that. I hate that I put you in that position, but I love you for being so fucking brave.”

  I feel fit to burst as I stand up in his arms, and he holds me as though he needs it, as though he’s still beating himself up over it.

  “I love you, Tony. I’d do anything for you. Always.”

  He takes me to the bedroom and pulls the t-shirt from my head. The bra unsnaps from my back with a twist of his hand, and that falls to the ground, too.

  I love this, just being naked with him, our bodies exposed to one another. He touches me as if I’m a piece of art, sadness still lingering in his eyes. I don’t know why.

  I take off my pants and he follows my every move. He watches as I struggle with the tightness of the fabric. It snags my panties and those drop down. He touches my belly again and I imagine what it’ll be like when it starts kicking. My heart races whenever he puts his hands on me.

  Then he lowers his head, lips brushing against my ear. “Having you there at the hospital was hell. They don’t tell you about the raging hard-ons you get when you’re naked under the sheets and your wife is right there, but you can’t fuck her.”

  His hand covers my breast and I shudder at the contact. Hot lips sear against the side of my head as he pinches my hard nipple.

  “You have me now.”

  He grabs the base of my neck gently and makes me sit down on the edge of the bed. I slide my hands up his muscular thighs and pull his black briefs down, so that he bounces free. I grab the veined, stiff cock and my lips roll over his head. Tony sighs and pulls away from me.

  “I need your pussy right now.”

  Tony covers my body with his as he pushes me over the bed, spreading my thighs with his hand. The head pushes hard against the ache crying out for him, for his thickness. I love that sound he makes when he sheathes himself for the first time. My wetness gathers around him as he pulls out and shoves it back in, deep inside my pussy. He’s never been this gentle with me. Never looked at me with so much love in his eyes. It’s hard to describe, but they almost look fractured. In pain.

  My body clenches around him as he pulses inside me, hammering my pussy as he breathes into my neck.

  “I fuckin’ need you.”

  He stops for a moment, grabbing my tits and then sinking his teeth into my neck.


  I need him too—need this passion in my life. I need his cock inside me and his cum, too. The future unfolds for me. We’ll have more kids, and we’ll have a lot of fun making them. He makes me happier than I ever could have dreamed.

  He kisses my damp neck as I dig my fingers into his back, screaming into the ceiling as he hits my G-spot. Then a groan shakes from his throat, and his cock stabs me hard. He empties his seed in my womb, and I feel the sticky warmth inside me.

  We kiss like two teenagers who just discovered sex. He bites my bottom lip, and butterflies flutter in my chest as he looks at me with that slightly drunken expression.

  “I love you.”

  But a frown descends over his face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He rolls on his back and opens and closes his mouth a few times, staring at the ceiling. “You know what’s wrong.”

  I rub my arm feverishly. Rafael. He’s nowhere to be found.

  “It drives me insane knowing he’s still out there.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep. I just—I have no idea what his endgame is.”

  Tony’s eyes flick to me, and I almost flinch from the darkness. “You. You’re his endgame.”

  I don’t like hearing that. Bitterness curls my lip. “I’m not a fucking trophy. I’m not a goddamn possession.”

  “I’m just as possessive as your ex. I just don’t have to hurt anyone to keep what’s mine.” He takes my chin gently, and even though his words should make my blood run cold, they have the opposite effect. “There’s no way in hell I’d let you go.”

  I don’t want you to.

  We lie there in bed for a while and gradually Tony closes his eyes. Sound asleep. I let him. The doctor said he needed rest, but I can’t rest. My nerves are fucked from being back in this house, where Rafael knows exactly where to find us.

  I get up from the bed and grab my phone off the nightstand, which lights up with a new text:

  Need to see you. Tell no one, or I go to the police and tell them who really shot me.

  The blood drains right out of me. I can almost feel it pooled at my feet.

  He has my number from the phone he stole from Tony. He’s still after me.

  I look over at Tony’s sleeping form, knowing how enraged he’d be if he knew that Rafael contacted me. He would want to find him, but what if he didn’t? What if he went to the police?