Owned by the Hitman: A Mafia Romance

by Abbott, Alexis

  I don’t see Kaiden the rest of the night, but when I get home, his bike is in the driveway, and I pull up behind it.

  Am I going to say anything about what I heard? That I understand now why he didn’t want me to work there? Hell, is this why he didn’t want me to come at all?

  Maybe Kaiden had kept my identity a secret to protect me, and that was why he was fighting so hard to keep me away from him.

  And then I wonder something worse... was this why Ryder was looking for a shot-girl in the first place? Did he lure me in close, just to have this over Kaiden’s head?

  My mind races with the possibilities, the strange layers that never occurred to me even to think about before. Is this why Kaiden had been so adamant about me not working at the bar?

  Was that all to protect me?

  ***

  “Look, one more fuckup like that and Ryder’s gonna can your ass,” Kaiden says with a sneer. His lips curve upward as he stares down at me like I’d just vomited on his shoes.

  He is pissed, and all I did was tell a guy not to spank my ass. I’m getting tired of being treated like meat around this place, but honestly, I’m terrified of leaving.

  Not just of what me leaving would do to myself, but my brother as well. Step-brother.

  I have to keep reminding myself of that now, because ever since I heard him out back with Ryder, I’ve started softening towards him. Even though this is the third time this week I’ve had to hear him tell me off.

  “It’s nothing,” I say with a roll of my eyes. I’m trying to act natural as if I hadn't heard what was said that night. It was almost a week ago, now. I never got a chance to talk to him about it because he’s in his room by the time I get home, and then gone before I get up the next morning.

  I have no idea what he’s been doing, but his erratic behavior is scaring me now.

  I lick my lips, tucking some of my blonde hair behind my ear and trying to stand up tall and straight. Look strong. Intimidating.

  “It’s not okay, Abigail. You’re on thin ice as it is.”

  People are looking at us, but by this point, I think they’ve come to expect fights between us. Every day for the past week he’s been doing something to shame me in front of the customers. Every minor indiscretion was worthy of his telling me off in public, despite him not being my boss.

  I get why he’s doing it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not sick of it.

  “Listen, Kaiden, that’s sexual harassment in the workplace, and if I’m supposed to put up with that, then I need to be making a lot more than $10 an hour. I’m not a stripper, and if I were? I’d probably be making a lot more!”

  He blanches, and I’m proud of myself for a second. I like it when I can get in under his skin in revenge for all the times he’s done it to me.

  He reaches out, grabbing my upper arm and staring down at me.

  “Listen, Abigail, just get the fuck outta here. Go back to school, do whatever goody-goody shit you wanna do, but you can’t cut it in this place. If you don’t want gross old guys grabbin’ your ass, this isn’t the job for you, Princess. Just like I told you a million times before.”

  I tug my arm, but he holds tight and my lip twitches. He’s so strong, and he’s always doing little things to remind me of that and intimidate me.

  “I can do this, Kaiden. I’ve been doing it for two weeks now, without a break. I’m tired, my legs hurt, and your attitude isn’t helping right now.”

  “Doesn’t sound to me like you can cut it, Princess.”

  His green eyes flash at me, along with that pierced tongue of his, and he thinks he has me in the corner. That I’m going to back down at any second, but I refuse. I’m not going to do that.

  I can’t!

  I mean, part of it is my pride, but not for a moment do I think that if I disappeared, Ryder would forget about me. Or that he’d forget about Kaiden’s potential to screw him over.

  Oh my God, if I left, Ryder might even think that Kaiden had hidden me away just so that he could tell the judge or whoever about Ryder’s business! About the attempted murder or threat or whatever it was that spooked Kaiden so bad.

  I’m trembling as I stare up at him, but I lean in close, my body pressing against his as I angle my lips to his ear.

  “You’re not getting rid of me so easy, Kaiden,” I swear, and I lower myself back to the floor, daring him to disagree.

  He finally releases me before picking up the nearest pint glass and tossing it at the wall.

  I shake and squeak as it shatters, flying into dozens of pieces.

  Before I can even gather my words, though, he’s storming out the front door and leaving me to clean up his mess.

  I’ve seen him mad before. Violent, even. But this is way more intense than anything else.

  I move towards the nearest shards, starting to sweep them up with the grimy broom and dustpan as the rest of the bar goes back to their conversations. The music is loud and has a little bit of static to it, and it’s getting on my nerves, just like everything else here.

  Just like everyone else here.

  I don’t realize how fast I was breathing until I lean against the wall with the glass in the dustpan and feel my heart racing.

  I know Kaiden’s only trying to protect me, but I’m trying to protect him, too. We’re all each other has...

  Chapter 4

  The day I hate working most, so far, is always Saturday. I don’t know what it is. The run-of-the-mill Monday-Thursday drunks I’m getting used to, but Friday and Saturday night? It’s as if everyone is on cocaine.

  Which, I guess, is entirely plausible.

  I move to the next table, tray of drinks perched on my arm as I smile. A woman who’s here every night smiles at me with her orange lips and blue eyes, taking her gin and tonic.

  “Thanks, honey,” she says with an exaggerated wink. She’s always hoping I’ll let her know who the big spenders are, and she’s always nice, so sometimes I point her in the direction of someone especially hammered.

  Despite how much I hate being called honey, she’s one of the better customers, and I smile at her, then at the two other women at her side.

  “Shots, ladies?” I ask with a phony grin. It’s only eleven, and I have four more hours of this routine before I can finally, blissfully relax. And despite it breaking, like, every state law I know of, Ryder’s acting like giving me Sunday off is a favor, after working seventeen shifts in a row.

  I can’t wait just to soak in a tub and not have to go into work. I was thin when I started, but now I have muscles in places I never did before, my calves and arms more sculpted.

  But no one can say I don’t suffer for my figure.

  “Yes! We’re celebrating!” the blonde to my regular’s left says with a smile as she reaches up with grabby hands towards the tray.

  "Everything you have!" the blonde says way too loud, but I smile politely and quickly count up the drinks on my tray.

  "It's $65 for the lot," I say with a smile, and the blonde throws me a crisp, $100 bill.

  "Keep the change!"

  And if there's any way to a waitress' heart, it's that.

  I smile as I put the tray down on the table before tucking the $35 into my pocket. I bring the rest to the register and go back to grab more shots.

  Maybe tonight isn't going to be so bad.

  Though when I hear the hooping and hollering in the back, I get a prickle down my spine, and I immediately know how wrong I am.

  I'm used to drunk guys, high guys, loud guys, and leering guys, but once you're around them enough, you know the signs. The slight, little differences between someone just being drunk, and someone being dangerously drunk.

  Between someone being high, and someone being stoned out of their mind.

  Between a guy being loud and perverted... and those guys.

  I glance over my shoulder at them, feeling the dread begin to build in the pit of my stomach as I top off the last of my shots.

  They're at the table with
the regular and her friends, skimming drinks from them. That, on its own? Normal night.

  But the way he's touching blondie sends a chill up my spine.

  Ryder's behind the bar, just watching placidly, as if simply waiting to see what I'd do. And knowing what I know about him... I don't want to do a single thing to upset him or earn his ire.

  So when he turns his head to look at me, his brow raised, I know it's time for action.

  I take the steps across the bar, returning to where I was just moments before, and I give the loudest, leeringest, drunkest guy I've ever seen my most dazzling smile. He's clearly over twice my age and looks older than that, with the heavy lines and the vacant, blue eyes.

  He's a guy that's seen a lot of hatred and hard times, that's for sure.

  "Did you need more drinks?" I ask politely, begging my voice not to quiver, but my intuition is telling me he's not a good man. He's not someone I should even be talking to or getting the attention of.

  "Well hi there, precious," he says with a slur and a wobble as he removes his hand from blondie's shoulder to go for mine. He's off balance and nearly falls over, supported only by me. He makes me nearly spill all my shots as he does, and I cry out.

  I just made a $35 tip, and I didn't want it all to go to replacing spilled drinks by this asshole.

  He doesn't seem to notice or care, though, and I quickly put down the tray on an empty table as he fumbles.

  And just as I rise back up, he grabs my breast. Not accidentally.

  My face is red with rage as he squeezes it in his hand, letting out the most disgusting moan I've ever heard in my life.

  "What a ripe peach," he shudders as I try to back up, but I'm pinned between him and the bench, and the ladies to my left are just laughing like it's all a joke.

  I grab onto the bench, trying to push myself up, but he’s built strong, and I can't move as he puts more weight on me. His entire body is pinning me down, holding me there as he squeezes my breast so hard it hurts like he's bruising me.

  I let out a shout, and just as he's about to bring his other hand up, headed towards my thigh, there's a scuffling of tables. I can't see anything beyond the disgusting drunk until he's yanked off me and thrown to the ground. Hard.

  The thud can be heard even over the music, over the laughter of the drunk women next to me, over my screams.

  And then Kaiden is atop him, pummeling his face over and over, and even though I’ve never been in a real fistfight, I can tell he’s not holding back.

  Each time they connect, they make a sick cracking noise, and I cringe away. I feel like I'm going to be sick, and I finally manage to jump up—around the two of them and between the tables, out the door into the night air. My hands go to my knees, and I buckle over, dry heaving onto the asphalt.

  Tears sting my eyes, embarrassment and anger combining in me.

  I don't know how long I stay, just trying not to throw up, but suddenly there's a hand on my back, and I jump, startled, away from him.

  "It's just me, Abby," says a much softer, tenderer voice than I'm used to. I haven't heard Kaiden sound like that in so long...

  "Listen, we gotta go," he says, taking a step nearer to me, but I back away.

  "I'm fine, Kaiden. I didn't need your help," I spit back, and my words sting him like acid. He visibly flinches, and some part of me feels bad, but I'm too angry and scared to care.

  "That fuck-head is still in there. He's a friend of Ryder's, you're not safe here," he warns, and his voice is starting to return to its normal hard, gravelly sound.

  "I'm not leaving, I still have a shift to finish," I repeat, obstinate, and I can see the anger building in him too.

  I glance down and notice the blood on his knuckles, and I know that by tomorrow, he'd be bruised and bandaged.

  "I'm not fucking letting you go back in there tonight, Abby, so stop fighting me," he grunts, grabbing my shoulder roughly. And I just let him, even though the last thing I want is to be touched right now. But in a strange way, it's comforting.

  Familiar.

  Warm.

  It's something I want, and something I don't want to want, all at once.

  "I need the money," I protest weakly with a sob, but it's about more than that.

  It's about what I heard him say to Ryder, what Ryder said back. It's about the fact that I'm already involved in something far more dangerous than some disgusting drunk.

  "I remember when you looked up to me," Kaiden barks angrily, glaring daggers at me as he shakes my shoulder. "You remember that, huh? Remember, you used to call me your hero and mean it?"

  Oh, I remember.

  I was just a kid the first time I was picked on. I can't remember why anymore, but I remember being so upset I cried for days until Kaiden finally got it out of me.

  The next time the kid started pushing me around, Kaiden was there. He got suspended for a week; his face was all bruised and he was so sore, but he just kept telling me he'd do it again for me. That he'd protect me.

  No matter what.

  Tears sting my eyes as I remember, and I try to brush past him, but he holds me still, his other hand going to my chin and forcing my watery eyes to look at him.

  "What happened to that girl, Abby? The one who looked up to me?" He looks so sad, and his brows are furrowed as he holds my chin between his thumb and his index finger.

  My eyes move from his, down to his lips. They're so near to me, so preciously near, and I envision myself just leaning forward. Pressing my mouth to his, thanking him for protecting me, for rescuing me.

  Begging him to take me home and shield me from all the terrible things in the world.

  I lick my lips, my breathing hard, and I'm not sure of how much time has passed, but it feels like an eternity before I finally pull away, bringing my gaze back to the ground.

  "Things have changed, Kaiden," I say, icily. I can’t have these feelings, and so I push him away, even though it breaks my heart. I can’t look at his lips and think about kissing him.

  It’s wrong.

  But even as I turn my back on him, my heart’s racing, and a small part of me hopes he won’t let me go.

  ***

  I get off my shift late, and luckily, the drunk was too wounded to hassle me anymore. And the ladies gave me an extra $50 to apologize for his behavior, though honestly, I just wanted them not to laugh at me while I was being assaulted.

  I took a shower immediately after getting home, and now I feel like I’m suffocating from the overly hot water, wrapped in just a towel.

  I'm crumpled up on my bed, and shocker, Kaiden isn't home yet. It's nice, in some ways, having the place to myself, though tonight I wanted him to be home, despite how I treated him. I was just so angry and embarrassed and... scared. Scared of what he was into with Ryder. Scared of what I'm into with Ryder.

  I close my eyes, trying to find sleep, but instead, all I can find is the memory of his lips, hovering so near to me. A little split down the center from some fight or another, but still so full and gorgeous.

  I moan softly as I think of his words, of how he and I used to be best friends. How he always took care of me before he just cut me out. It wasn't for a bad reason, I guess. He fell in with the wrong crowd and wants to protect me from their retribution. And the thought that he's so worried for me, so thoughtful, makes me smile even if it is messed up.

  I smell like his body wash, and I have to admit... it's enticing in ways it shouldn't be.

  I've dealt with these feelings for so long, but living with him, just the two of us alone, has brought them back to the surface. It’s getting harder and harder to deny them. I don't even realize that my legs have parted, and that my hand is slowly snaking down the fluffy, white towel.

  Maybe I should feel traumatized about what happened at the bar, and I do. I don't ever want to have to go back to work again. But I'm almost in shock, and all I can think about is Kaiden and how he'd rescued me, and how much I’d just wanted to kiss him. To let myself go and get wrapp
ed up in him.

  But that would require him to feel the same way, and he doesn't.

  My fingers brush against my sex, and I let out a soft gasp of surprised pleasure. I'm already wet.

  I imagine him coming into the room, finding me as I am, and walking over. His chest bare, his tattoos on display, as he licks his lips, running the piercing over it seductively.

  He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. The expression on his face says it all as he looks over my freshly showered body, just the towel hiding me from his hungry, green eyes.

  His hands touch on both of my knees as he leans on the bed, making it slant towards him as he puts his weight between me.

  And then he leans down between my legs, kissing my clean little pussy, rubbing that tongue stud over my clit. I moan, my nipples stiffening beneath the towel as he reaches up beneath the fabric.

  His hand dances along my stomach, loosening the towel as he reaches up and up before finding my small breast.

  He's gentle, kind, exploring it with a tenderness I wouldn't expect from such a massive man. He lets out a growl between my legs as he begins lashing against my clit with more urgency. He looks up at me from between my legs, and I swear, they glitter with such passion and desire as if he's been waiting just as long for this as I have.

  Thoughts of those broad, muscular shoulders rippling as he grasps my legs so tight and works his mouth over my pussy fill my mind. His big, powerful body focused upon me and mine, every rippling cord of sinew bulging as he lashes at my pussy.

  An orgasm rushes through me unlike I've felt in a very long time. I don’t know if he could’ve got me off so fast if he were actually eating me out.

  "Oh, Kaiden!" I cry out, my body arching and aching as I tremble atop my bed, bucking my hips into my hand as the fantasy disappears. I’m left alone in my small room, just the feeling of shame burning through my body.

  I blush as I come down, inwardly reprimanding myself.

  You swore you wouldn't fantasize about him anymore.

  I sneer at the unwanted thought.

  The last thing I need right now is my brain telling me off for feeling good for the first time in months. And it’s only a fantasy, something that will never happen. Something I’ll never let happen.