WIFE FOR A PRICE: A Hitman Fake Marriage Romance

by Thomas, Kathryn

  “You can’t be serious. Evangeline? Wanted to kill your girlfriend?” Figueroa asked, glaring at Devin. It was clear that there was still a part of Figueroa that didn’t want to believe what Devin was saying.

  “Yes, because she wanted to silence me. She thought she could scare me into shutting up about her,” Devin continued, and this time Figueroa stood up with a jerk.

  “Shut you up? Why? What were you planning on doing?” Figueroa asked, and Devin held his chin up.

  “I could have and probably would have told you everything about her, and she didn’t want me to do that.” Devin decided to leave out the little detail about how Evangeline also wanted Devin all to herself. That she wanted to be with him again. He didn’t believe that Figueroa would believe it or take it well.

  “Tell me what?!” Figueroa was screaming now.

  “About how she’s a drug addict and has been stealing from me and now you. And that she’s wanted by the police and the Interpol in Europe.”

  Figueroa held his head with both his hands. He was shaking his head vigorously like he didn’t want to hear another word that Devin was saying. But Devin was going to make sure that the man heard the truth about his beloved new fiancé.

  “Evangeline wasn’t involved in this, she couldn’t have been. She was at her house all day. I’ve bought her a new apartment, she spent the day there working on her photographs,” Figueroa finally said, but he was speaking more to himself. One of the men he had sent out earlier to find out information came back into the room. Devin was watching all of them with an intent gaze. One wrong move and he could set The Choppers ablaze, and they would be prepared to kill him.

  “Boss. She wasn’t at the apartment. She left at around six and hasn’t been back since,” the man said to Figueroa, who shook his head with more vigor. He still couldn’t believe it.

  “Check the police station,” Devin intervened, and everyone in the room whipped their heads to look at him. The mention of cops in a conversation always meant trouble.

  “Police station? Why would she be at a police station?” Figueroa had been pacing the floor of the room and now stepped in Devin’s direction.

  “Because I dragged her there myself,” Devin admitted, and Figueroa rushed towards him in rage. His eyeballs protruded out, and his nostrils were flaring. He looked like he was ready to kill somebody. Devin stood his ground.

  “I had to. She handcuffed Camille and tried to poison her with heroin to force her to overdose,” Devin said, and Figueroa’s mouth hung open. Devin knew that even though the older man had asked Devin to burn down the bookstore, he would never order such a thing as Camille’s murder.

  “Besides, she’s wanted in eight states here and by the Interpol. By surrendering her to the police, it grants you, me, and both our gangs immunity from any other petty crime that we might be charged with for the next few years.” Devin folded his arms over his chest. Figueroa appeared to think. He had grown quiet and less enraged. He was clearly in shock from what he was hearing.

  “It grants us immunity?” Figueroa asked, and Devin nodded.

  “If you’re willing to testify and make a statement,” Devin explained, and he watched as Figueroa grew incensed again.

  “Against my own fiancée? I love her!” He thundered and pushed his face towards Devin again.

  “Check your accounts. See if she’s stealing from you. If I’m right and she has been stealing from you, it gives you the evidence you need to testify against her,” Devin continued while Figueroa shook his head again.

  “Boss?” one of the men called out to him.

  “Check the accounts. Now!” Figueroa yelled at him, and two of the men ran out of the room. It would take a few hours for the accounts to be thoroughly checked - for the full scope of Evangeline’s crimes to be visible. But Devin was willing to wait. This would prove once and for all, that it wasn’t him who was The Chopper’s enemy. It was Evangeline.

  Figueroa sat back down in his leather chair with a huff. He was still angry and confused yet also exhausted.

  “She told me about you going to the cops. Why would she do that?” Figueroa asked, in a quieter voice this time.

  Devin allowed his shoulders to relax; Figueroa was beginning to face reality now.

  “Because she hoped that you would kill me off, in which case she wouldn’t have to, and all her criminal secrets would be safe with my dying breath,” Devin said, and Figueroa shot him a look. Despite the situation, and even though the two rival gangs and their leaders had never quite gotten along, Devin began to feel a little sorry for Figueroa.

  He knew exactly the kind of hold Evangeline could have on people, especially the men who fell so hard for her. It was difficult to believe that she was a criminal and see the clues that gave way to her drug addiction. But once you began to see her for who she really was, the rest only became clearer. Figueroa would need some time to face reality, but once he did that he would be able to connect all the dots and understand how Evangeline did it. How she had completely duped him and made a fool of him.

  “And don’t think for one second that she’s not in there spreading lies about you and me. She’s going to take every opportunity she gets to save her skin,” Devin continued, and Figueroa watched him with a deathly stare.

  Figueroa stood up again with a jerk and shook his head violently. “I should never have trusted her. She isn’t a biker. She doesn’t belong to the club. She doesn’t follow our code. I shouldn’t ever have trusted her.” Figueroa was speaking more to himself again rather than to anyone else. There was a deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes as he stared at Devin while he spoke.

  Devin stepped towards him now and taking a chance, he reached out to pat Figueroa on his shoulder, like a friend or comrade. Surprisingly, Figueroa didn’t seem to react. He simply stood there, looking like a man whose heart was broken and whose dreams were shattered. His new love was stealing from him, had lied to him to start a club war and had also tried to murder an innocent girl.

  “We’ve all been there, Figueroa,” Devin said encouragingly, and the two men stared at each other in silence for a few moments.

  ***

  The two men were sitting on the front porch of The Choppers’ clubhouse, sipping from their cans of beer.

  It had been three hours since Devin first showed up here, and Figueroa’s men had revealed to him that they had already uncovered traces of money being laundered, all pointing towards Evangeline. Figueroa ordered them to keep digging.

  “You have to just take my word for it, I guess,” Devin said, taking a big sip of his beer. Less than a day ago, Figueroa had bashed Devin’s face, and the bruises were still there to prove it. And now they were sitting on porch chairs, sharing a drink and talking to each other like they had been friends all along.

  “Take your word for what?” Figueroa asked, still a little disoriented.

  “About my loyalty to the code. The bookstore is Camille’s source of income, her art has all been ruined because of Evangeline, she’ll have nothing if I take the store away from her as well,” Devin explained, and Figueroa nodded silently.

  “Yes, I think we’ve all been responsible for the shit that the poor girl has been through in the last couple of days. You tell her that I’m deeply sorry for this all. I never meant for any of this to happen,” Figueroa spoke quietly. He didn’t seem like a man who was used to apologizing often.

  Devin drank from his can again, allowing Figueroa’s words to truly settle in.

  “She understands. This wasn’t anybody’s fault, especially not yours. You were told lies,” Devin said, and Figueroa interrupted him.

  “And I believed them! Like a fool,” he said, and Devin remained silent. He needed to give the other man some time for the truth to sink in.

  “You seem happy with her, anyway,” Figueroa said, finishing the remaining beer in his hand. Devin nodded and smiled, an image of Camille’s face floated up in his mind. He had forgotten how much he missed her.

 
“She’s great. We are very happy together. And she’s forgiven me for all of this, what more can I ask for?”

  Figueroa remained quiet for a while. “You should set the poor girl free. This isn’t the kind of life she’s prepared for. She nearly lost her life this time, but how long will you be able to protect her. She’ll become a liability,” Figueroa said, and Devin listened. He knew there was great truth in his words. He had thought about those exact things. Camille was going to be in constant danger if she remained with him. There was always going to be something new.

  Devin shook his head and remained silent.

  “It’s just my two cents. For your sake and hers,” Figueroa continued.

  “I understand what you’re saying. And I agree with it. It’s just, I don’t…” Devin ran his hands through his thick dark hair and caught Figueroa smiling. It was the other man’s turn to feel sorry for him for being in love.

  “She must be one hell of a girl if she’s put Devin in a trance,” Figueroa said and laughed loudly, very happy with his own joke. Devin smiled too. He was also glad to see that Figueroa was feeling better about the whole Evangeline debacle.

  “You know I’ve always respected you, Devin,” Figueroa added, reaching for another can of beer on the floor. He threw one over to Devin and then picked up another one for himself.

  “I’ve never doubted that,” Devin replied, popping the can open and taking a quick sip. Figueroa was watching him, and he had a smile lingering on his face.

  “Although I must tell you that all those photographs of you, your modeling career… I don’t think I’ve ever met or seen a real biker do things like that before,” Figueroa admitted and then laughed loudly again. Devin smiled and nodded. At least Figueroa was being honest with him; telling him what everyone else must have been thinking as well.

  “You could blame Evangeline for that too,” Devin said, and Figueroa’s face darkened for a few moments, just at the drop of Evangeline’s name in their midst. But he straightened himself back up soon.

  “I’m guessing you made a lot of money from it anyway?”

  Devin nodded. “Just another business venture,” he said, and Figueroa smiled again.

  “But no, I honestly have immense respect for you. And I’m very sorry that that damn bitch was able to manipulate me into kidnapping you and beating you up,” Figueroa told him, leaning forward now towards Devin.

  Devin extended his hand towards Figueroa. “It’s all good. Shake on it?”

  The two men shook hands, smiling at each other. Evangeline may have started a series of events that had put nearly all their lives in danger, but her lack of success had resulted in bringing the two gangs closer together.

  Devin stood up from his chair, emptying the contents of the can into his mouth in one long gulp. He scrunched the can and flung it aside, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “You have a girl to go back home to,” Figueroa said, looking up at Devin.

  Devin straightened his leather jacket and ran his hands through his hair. “I sure do.”

  Figueroa breathed in deeply. “Think about what I said. You can’t be good at what you do with a liability hanging around your neck,” Figueroa repeated, and Devin nodded in thought. Figueroa was right, and the events of the last few days had proven it. Camille didn’t deserve this life. She didn’t know what she was getting herself into.

  Devin turned on his heels and walked down the steps of the porch towards Camille’s parked car.

  “Oh, Figueroa!” Devin called out to the man who was still sitting alone in the dark with his can of beer. “Don’t ever threaten my dogs again!”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight Camille

  Shayna had made Camille some tea, and they were both huddled up on the couch together. Their faces were turned to the TV, but neither of them was really watching. Camille had come very close to losing her life a few hours ago. Devin had dropped her home, and Camille had immediately called Shayna to come over. It was pretty late now, in the wee hours of the morning, but they were both in shock, neither of them could really go to sleep.

  “I should never have left you alone in the store,” Shayna said, staring blankly at the TV screen.

  Camille looked at her friend and forced a weak smile. “You didn’t know what was going to happen. How could you have anticipated that?” Camille spoke quietly. Her throat still hurt from all the screaming and crying.

  “But we were arguing. If something happened to you, I’d never be able to…” Shayna broke into tears and Camille threw an arm around her neck and pulled her close.

  “Nothing happened to me. And we always fight and then we make up. And you were right about Evangeline all along,” Camille said while Shayna wiped the tears from her cheeks. They were both still shaken up, and Camille was glad that Shayna had been so quick to come over. She hadn’t wanted to be by herself that night, not yet.

  “But I was wrong about Devin,” Shayna admitted, straightening herself up to look at Camille again.

  Camille smiled and nodded her head. “He’s a mystery, but I trust him. I would trust him with my life.”

  Shayna nodded. “No, you’re right. Devin is a good man, even though his life is so dangerous,” Shayna began, and Camille fell silent. She knew what Shayna was about to say, and even though she didn’t want to hear it she knew that it was true. “Look it’s your life, but you’ll never be safe as long as you’re with him.”

  Camille nodded and pursed her lips. Shayna was right, but Camille didn’t want to think about giving Devin up, not after everything that had happened.

  “I love him, Shayna,” she said, and Shayna licked her lips. She was clearly still frightened for Camille.

  “I can see that you do. But he’s trouble. He probably loves you too, and he’ll try his hardest to keep you safe, but what if there comes a time when he can’t. You’ll never have a normal life with him, Camille.”

  Camille sighed deeply and took a long sip of tea from the mug. “I’ve had a normal life, Shayna. And I can’t say that I like it. I know he leads a dangerous life, but I want to spend it with him. Or at least I think I do,” Camille said, not quite sure of herself. She was trying to convince herself that being with Devin was a good idea, but she was failing miserably at it.

  “Look what being with him did to all your art, your life’s work,” Shayna said, and Camille fell silent. She had no comeback for that, no saving grace. It was what it was. Devin was irresistible - he made her feel good and safe, like she could achieve anything. Every time they were together, it was like her body was on fire; she wanted him inside her the moment he looked at her. But he was a bad idea. A life with him would only lead to disruption. And she may be bored with normal now, but normal was safe.

  “I just think you should give it some thought. Devin will not be able to keep you out of harm’s way forever,” Shayna added.

  They sat in silence together for a few moments longer until Shayna decided to change the subject. “I do have some good news, though. Charlene called, and she said that she wants to sign you up for five more shows.”

  Camille’s eyes widened, and she finally smiled a genuine smile. “Five more shows? That’ll take me two years to arrange!” Camille exclaimed, and Shayna nodded in excitement.

  “We’ll have a steady source of income for two years, and it only means that it’ll open us up for more opportunities after that.” Shayna clapped her hands, but Camille was frowning again.

  “What about Evangeline? I thought she owned the gallery. There is no way I’m working with her, and she’s probably going to be in prison no, for many years,” Camille said, but Shayna was still smiling.

  “Charlene informed me that Evangeline was only on the board of directors for the gallery. She never actually owned it, and now she’ll have to give up her position,” Shayna explained, and Camille was smiling again. This was great news. Her career as an artist was finally kicking off.

  There was a sudden knock on the door and both the girls exchange
d quick, nervous looks. It was two in the morning, and after the recent events, neither of them were happy about someone knocking on their door at this hour.

  “It’s me, Camille!” Devin’s voice floated through the door, and Camille jumped up off the couch and ran towards the door.

  She flung it open and found him standing on the other side. He looked exhausted, his hair was disheveled, and he had a late night shadow on his chin. Camille didn’t wait for him to say anything, but simply threw her arms around his neck in relief. He was fine, things had obviously gone well, and he had taken care of everything. All the reservations and doubts she had about him only a few minutes ago were all gone. Now that he was standing in front of her, she couldn’t care less about anything else.

  “Hello, Shayna,” Devin said while holding Camille close to him.

  ***