Billionaire Protector

by Kyanna Skye

  “But you're involved.”

  “No. My father's involved. When my father dies and I take over, the business will be shut down. The men will be disbanded and all of this will be over.”

  “What about all the men running around in wife beaters collecting insurance from businesses?”

  “The Carters aren't like that. It's peaceful. People don't just get killed without a good reason. It's mostly to protect men and their families when somebody decides to ruin their lives and go to the feds. It's too much of a risk to have them walk away, and considering what the feds will do to the people that get in trouble, it's a fair response.”

  “You're justifying this. You're telling me that you're going to disband this whole operation when you take over, but you like the way your family does things. You idealize the mafia. You're even justifying the killing.”

  “When a man runs out and decides that he's going to go to the feds, he's putting my father and my family at risk of losing their freedom. You're damn right I'm justifying that. I believe in protecting my people, and yes, I do like pieces of this lifestyle, but it's not worth it. If I get my way when my father dies, I'm closing the whole thing down.”

  “And you don't get involved, not in any of the violence or the drug trade—nothing.”

  “Nothing.” She knew he was lying.

  Chapter 12

  They were halfway to Tony's house when he turned to her and asked, “Will you please stay with me tonight?”

  “Of course.” She didn't want to leave him that evening, not after what she just saw.

  If Tony wasn't taking any part of his family's activities, then why was he dangerous? Was there something else that he wasn't telling her? This man had too many layers to him. Every time she found something out about him, she found out that there was a completely different side to him. She could spend years trying to figure him out.

  Lana wanted level ground. She wanted to know who she was dealing with, what he had to offer, and what being with him meant. She still didn't have the answers to any of those questions, and she wasn't sure she was going to get them. No matter how hard she tried to figure him out, there would always be something else she didn't know.

  Lana hated uncertainty, and more than anything else, she hated having secrets kept from her. Those bullet victims were sacrificing themselves for a twisted game. Thugs always say the same thing; Lana had heard them. They all talked about making money and becoming rich off selling. Then they'd get caught up and start doing the drugs themselves. Ultimately, they'd end up homeless, and wind up in prison or dead. They were poor, young men putting their lives in danger for the false promise of having a better life.

  That wasn't okay, but Tony was right. If they ended prohibition, just like Lana had heard plenty of times, they wouldn't have gun battles on the streets. There wouldn't be any of the pressure of the cops or people getting robbed because whoever wanted to sell would be allowed to do so out in the open. There would be more weed, so there wouldn't be as much of a demand and people wouldn't be killed over a few ounces. The violence would end the second the bill was signed into law.

  She couldn't justify what the Carter family was doing. That was the hardest part. When she thought of the weed, she kept thinking of Jim sitting on the couch with red eyes and his stinky feet sitting on the coffee table.

  And she couldn't trust Tony when he said he wasn't involved. There were so many things she didn't know about him and he didn't want to answer any of her questions. She might just have to leave because he told her he was dangerous and the kind of thing that his family was involved in was dangerous. She was treating the victims of that violence every day.

  Still, she was in too deep. This man could take whatever he wanted. Even if she did try to walk away, he'd show up, whether it was in person or he found a way to creep into her mind. She worked at a clinic that his father owned. He'd have every opportunity to creep back in and she'd let him because there was something so alluring about him. It was far too powerful.

  She was his. She would just have to stick by him and hope that as his layers peeled away, he didn't turn ugly.

  When they got back to the estate, she had more questions, not just about Tony or what danger he'd bring, but also about the business, how it worked, and how best to keep both of them out of danger. He never wanted to think about what could happen; there'd be blood staining the desert sand, his entrails flayed out on the jagged, scorching rocks.

  Or, as she got out of the car, she was trembling at the thought of fishes picking at his corpse, eating his eyes or tearing at his nose until he looked like a dead pirate clutching at a chest of Spanish doubloons. That's what this was; it was a deadly hunt for money, and even if he wasn't involved, he wound up with a bullet in his arm.

  They walked into the house and she followed him into the main living area where a dinner was already setup for them, roasting in the oven. The air smelled like succulent beef and tender vegetables. He sat down on the couch and she sat next to him, resting her head in his lap while he stroked her cheek. She could see his bandage moving back and forth.

  “How is it? Does it hurt?”

  “No. Not unless I move around too much.”

  “How did it happen?” She looked up to face him.

  “I don't wanna talk about it.”

  “So,” she sat up, “we're back to secrets and lies.”

  “You're worried about my family, fine. I get that, but this had nothing to do with my family or the Lorrentz family.”

  “The Lorrentz family.”

  “It's another family in town.”

  “They're at war with your family. Aren't they?”

  “One guy sells for Lorrentz. The other guy sells for Carter. The two guys meet on the street they go at it like monkeys. You got Carters shanking Lorrentz’s guys in prison and people setting up Carter and Lorrentz territory. It’s the small-time dealers that are doing it, and the real family wants it stopped. They'll do anything to stop the killing.”

  Lana wondered whether or not he could be killed just by being seen by some thug on the street trying to make sure everyone knew he was the guy that killed Tony Carter. If people knew who he was, and the crime family he was involved with, then that would make him a target.

  “None of this matters if you won't tell me how you got shot.”

  “I'm not going to tell you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I have my reasons and I'm not going to be pushed into talking about it. It's not your business.”

  “I am finding it so hard to trust you, Tony. I want to,” she raged, “I want to so badly because I really like you, but there are too many secrets and too many lies. I want things completely out in the open, and if you can't do that....”

  “You won't walk away. You couldn't even if you wanted to. But if you stay, you're going to have to accept the terms I have to offer. You can have whatever you want, but you've got to stop asking questions.”

  “It's not enough, Tony. Take me home.”

  “It'd be better if you stayed here tonight.” He sat back down on the couch and patted the seat next to him.

  “Why?”

  “There's trouble. It has nothing to do with you, but you're staying here just in case.”

  “Well, I wanna go home.” She stood there stubbornly, refusing to give in. “What is happening?”

  “Unless you can walk back, you're not going home tonight, and Lana, I'm gonna tell you this once.” He went serious and locked eyes with her. “Information is dangerous. You never ask questions in this world. You simply enjoy your life and keep your head low. That's how you have to live.”

  “But I'm not that type. I wonder. I worry.”

  “Don't,” he urged her.

  “But this is real danger. The Lorrentz family.”

  “It's another family in town.”

  “Not as real as you think. This is just a precaution. Now sit down, do whatever, but don't give me grief.”

  “All righ
t, fine.”

  Here was a man that really cared about her, and could offer her anything she wanted, and she was punishing him. It wasn't right to give him grief, but any normal woman would wonder what was happening. Why was he forcing her to stay with him? Was there trouble with a rival gang, or maybe they were beings raided by the feds?

  Those were things she should know about, but all he'd say was don't ask questions. It was enough to make her lose her mind. She should've been running out the door in fear for her life. Instead, she just lying on the couch with him moving his hand down her body.

  His bandage had been redressed and cleaned. It stuck out the side of his arm. “Stop.”

  “What?” He was suddenly serious and starting to get up.

  “I just—why did you get shot, Tony?”

  “Ah, screw this. Sleep in the guest room.”

  Chapter 13

  Sometime, about halfway through the night, Tony crept back up to sleep with Lana. He walked in slowly, wearing nothing and holding a pillow. She let him slip into the sheets, and even let him put his arm around her waist, but the second his hand darted out to catch her breast she said, “Okay, tell me.” She sat up in the dark with her hands on her hips.

  “Tell you what?”

  She turned over and threw his arm off her. “You know exactly what. You’re coming back in here with your tail between your legs. Now you’re going to tell me why you got shot.”

  “No.” He turned over to face the other direction and grabbed some of the blanket away from her.

  “What do you mean, no?” She tried unsuccessfully to pull the blanket away from him. “You can’t just come back in here after pulling that.

  “It’s my house. Besides, I was the one that chose to leave. You didn’t kick me out. So you don’t get to say when I come back.” He turned back over and rested his arm on her with his exposed body pressed against hers. All her anger seemed to wash away, leaving an infuriatingly sweet tenderness she couldn’t help but succumb to.

  The next morning, when she woke, he was snoring softly, and mindlessly rubbing her nipple. She couldn’t help but giggle at the tickling feeling. She hopped up, butt-naked, and threw on a robe from the hook on the door, along with some slippers. Then she checked her phone.

  She had to be at work in one hour and she needed a paycheck, so she wasn’t going to miss going this time. She bent down to kiss Tony before leaving, and he turned over with his legs open, smiling. His cock was sticking straight up, ready for her to wrap her lips around it.

  That one, juicy moment would be enough to make her want to quit her job and stay there forever. She could do it, take him in every few hours that day and lounge about with a bowl of berries while they tested the limits of what their bodies were capable of.

  “Come here.” He gently rested his hand on her.

  She let her head drop for a moment, her thighs tingling. Even her mouth was wet. She could just have one taste and pull back when it was getting too late, but it was a trap. He wouldn’t be satisfied with her mouth, and he had a way of moving. Once she touched her, he'd slip right in. He could have whatever he wanted, and he’d take it.

  “I have to go to work today.”

  “No. Stay home.” He sat up on his knees and rubbed his cock against her belly. “Let’s mess around.”

  “If I do that, I’ll end up spending the entire day with you in bed, and lord knows I want to, but I have to work.”

  “No.” He had a menacing grin. “You don’t have to work. Ever. Never. You could lay in bed every day of your life, eating truffles and drinking champagne.”

  She stepped back and turned around. “I want to make one thing clear: you will not lavish me with gifts—no cars, no diamonds. I am an independent woman.” She turned back to him and met his eyes dead on. “I will develop an independent career, use my own money, and while I will enjoy some of the things your lifestyle has to offer, I will not throw myself into it.”

  “You’re going to be rich, Lana. That comes with privilege—power. You can do things, make an impact on the world, and see things most men could only dream of seeing. I won't let you deny yourself that.”

  “I will do things my own way. I won’t be utilizing your resources extensively.”

  “Fine, but what about living here instead of in that nasty shack?”

  “No, and I’m going to assert some control in this.” She stroked the head of his cock and walked away to get ready.

  “Oh, come on!” She shut the bathroom door and made a good time, glad that she would have the luxury of getting a ride from what might as well have been a race car driver.

  She kissed him goodbye and ran headlong into a panic. Four men were screaming their lungs out with blood pouring out of some serious lacerations. The receptionist was trying to pick up the weight. The room was full of people, and most of them weren’t going to make it.

  Lana rushed to check the patient closest to her. He had an arm wound, and it wasn’t bleeding too bad, so it was going to have to wait.

  “That one!” The doctor pointed to a man across the room with a bullet on his shoulder. Blood was spraying everywhere. He stopped the bleeding while she removed the bullet, which had been lodged in the bone. Then she stitched him up and changed her gloves to rush to a man screaming, with blood pouring out of his chest. It was deep, near his heart. The man wasn’t going survive without intensive surgery. She watched as his body drained itself of his blood and his dark skin turned a tinge of purple.

  When she pulled the sheet over the man's head, she noticed that his face had been tattooed with a mural of an Azteca blood God devouring its victims. Lana once heard that modern men who practiced one of the many Mesoa American religions believed that murder was something to be worshiped.

  “They’re stupid, all of them, for getting into this.” She passed the doctor by to treat a gushing leg injury. The floor was slick with blood and tissue, a sign of the blood bath that had been going on all day, judging by the pale doctor’s black circles.

  He dealt with the organ damage while the receptionist incinerated body after body.

  “They’re dumb, but it’s a part of who they are. Who are we to judge them?” The doctor stitched up an arm wound and moved a dying patient to the incinerator so the patient could watch and wait for his corpse to be burned.

  “Why is this happening?” Lana struggled to contain the bleeding of a man with a stomach wound. He would need surgery, but there might not be enough time. The doctor was already trying to stitch up a foot-long knife wound that slashed into a man’s arms.

  “I need blood type O!” he screamed. Lana rushed into the locker and found five containers.

  “We’ve got five left. Will he survive without it?”

  “We’ll have to take the chance.”

  “No!” The man, a bear capable of crushing the doctor’s skull, threw himself off the bed blindly. Then he shot up and slammed the doctor to the wall by the neck. The doctor’s face was turning blue. It was the patient or the doctor, but only one survivor would emerge.

  “Back off! I’m bringing it!” She grabbed a bag, a hook, and walked over to the patient. “Now sit down or you ain’t getting nothing!” She pointed toward the bed and he pulled back obediently and sat back down on the bed.

  “This is a waste. You people are killing your own selves.”

  She jabbed the needle in his arm and he grabbed her, “Lady, I got two felonies. They won’t even take me at McDonald's. You think I wanna do this?” He scoffed. “Now get out of my face, you stuck-up, white bitch.”

  She gladly moved on and stitched up one man after the next. She lost count, but if she had to estimate, nearly fifty men died that afternoon and they just kept coming in. At some point, the clinic had to turn them away and let them either bleed to death or find some other way to get care. It got to where Lana couldn’t look out the window, because the men were lined up outside, bleeding, caring for their friends as best they could. They were desperate to survive while they
waited for their place in the clinic.

  It was the most horrific thing that Lana had ever seen, men dying and wailing everywhere while the people bled out all over the pavement. Every time somebody died, Lana had to take them to the incinerator. She had to be the last person to see the men intact.

  “You ever wonder what they were like?” the doctor asked while he grabbed a gurney to rush them into the OR.

  “Every time, but with these guys, I already know.”

  “You don’t know nothing about me or anyone else here, you dumb bitch.” I turned around to see a man with scraggly, white hair and wrinkled skin covered in tattoos. “You think I got a choice? Went down for possession of coke 20 years ago. Haven’t been able to get a job or a decent place since.”

  He had a knife wound the size of her arm, but he was staring directly at her, barely reacting to the pain.

  “Well get it fixed.” She began moving the tissue back into place, careful to hold back the bleeding while she did.

  “You’re going to need an operation. Otherwise, you’re going to bleed out. But....”

  She didn't have to tell him that they would never get to him in time.

  He struggled to sit up and pointed towards the medical cabinet. “Grab a stool and pull down the box on the top and bring it to me.”

  “I’ve got things to do.”

  “You’ll give a dying man his last wish,” he declared with authority.

  She looked around. People were going to die no matter what. At least helping this man in his last hour would do some good. She used the stool to reach on top of the medical cabinet and pulled down a box covered in fine, black velvet with a golden carving of a snake eating its own tail.

  She carefully brought it to the old man, who pulled out a sack of weed and what looked like an ancient, clay pipe. “Who are you?” she asked, mesmerized.

  “Jean Lorrentz, retired head of the Lorrentz crime family.”

  “Am I in danger?”

  “Not yet. You’re Tony’s girl. He’s not involved in business, but I’d be careful. You don't wanna get seen. You should cover your face.”