Stockholm Syndromance: A Bad Boy Romance (Still a Bad Boy Book 4)

by Ada Scott

  He’d just think I was trying to use the connection we’d made so I could escape. I stole another glance at him as we reached the city limits and the streetlights became few and far between, leaving only the dash to light his features.

  He was still on the job. He was still a professional with a task he would see through until the end, no matter what happened this morning. I was probably just a number for him, no matter how much he enjoyed himself. This story, our story, couldn’t have a happy ending.

  Everything had changed since yesterday, and yet nothing had. He’d take me to his boss, and his boss would kill me. My future was still pretty much fucked.

  So, what choice did I have? My chances of getting away from Eric were slim to none, but even if I did? What then? Go back to my father? The very idea of it made my heart feel heavy.

  Strike out on my own? Where? Where could I go that my father wouldn’t find me? I didn’t know anybody. The only people I’d ever heard of who could get me a new identity were employed by my father. I had nowhere to go.

  I sighed and leaned over to rest my head on Eric’s shoulder. I wasn’t tired, but it made me feel less alone. All I had was however long it took us to get to his employer. That was it.

  Some people got a lifetime, I got this. I’d have to fit my happily ever after into whatever time I had. I didn’t know what that looked like yet, but I’d figure it out. I’d take it over the other options.

  “We forgot the pizza,” I said, absent-mindedly lamenting over the leftovers in the Southern Style mini-bar.

  “I brought snacks.”

  “You have done this before.”

  “Yep.”

  I retrieved a couple granola bars and a bottle of water, sharing both with Eric, and watched the open road get eaten up in front of us. After a few hours, when we’d reached some arbitrary measure of distance between us and the site of our latest firefight, Eric pulled over and unpacked a cell phone, fucking around with it for a while before getting out of the car to make a call. My best guess was that he needed to make a progress report.

  Eric

  I could only imagine what Jace must be thinking since, no doubt, having gotten in touch with The Smoke Devils by now. We were back on track to getting this mission completed and he’d want to know that.

  When all this shit was over, I’d get another one of those fully-encrypted phones that Dan modified for us, but in a pinch, these pre-paid cells were cheap and common enough to hide in the masses. It meant I had to go through some extra security procedures I would have rather avoided, but it would do.

  I dialed the number and waited with a glum expression on my face. I even held the phone a little away from my ear when the woman’s recorded voice answered.

  “Welcome to Shit Talk, where my mouth is your toilet. Our operators are standing by for you to use and abuse, to eat your warm, earthy shit. Mmmmm…”

  The monologue went on for almost a minute. We used this phone number when we didn’t have the right hardware but still wanted to communicate safely. If anybody was randomly listening in, the idea was that they’d get the fuck out of the call before the shit started flying.

  I wasn’t sure if anybody had ever done a demographical study on the cross-section between scat-lovers and people who worked in call-monitoring agencies. Hopefully it wasn’t too high.

  However bad it was for me, it must have been a thousand times worse for the poor voice actress they’d hired from Fiverr. Credit where credit was due, she made it sound like she loved shit, and I happily entered my sixteen-digit code after the tone when she asked for my card number.

  This was followed by another near-minute of generic porn and gagging sounds, until I heard the click and crackle of the secure line being picked up at the other end. Thank fuck for that.

  “You’re alive!” came Jace’s voice.

  “Yes sir. Don’t know how, but I am. I’m just outside of-”

  “Green Point, I know. I’m glad you called. How is the package?”

  “The… package is fine. How did you know where I was?”

  “The bike you stole from The Smoke Devils had GPS tracking on it.”

  “The fucking bike did? Shit.”

  I glared in Eliana’s direction through the roof of the car, though she couldn’t see my face from here. This was the kind of thing I never would have overlooked if she didn’t have her hand on my cock.

  “Yeah, they tracked it to an Ex Machina chop shop in Green Point.”

  “Oh… shit. What happened there?”

  “They burned it to the ground and killed everybody working there. Not necessarily in that order.”

  “Fuck… listen, those Smoke Devils... they’re… I don’t know what they’ve been telling you, but I don’t think they’ll… uh… fit well with the organizational culture.”

  Jace laughed. “No shit. I agree, but I think that ship has sailed anyway. Let’s hear your version. What happened?”

  “Their President decided that he wanted to take a little ‘tribute’ out of the package, if you know what I mean. Things went south pretty quickly when he wouldn’t change his mind back to the original fucking deal.”

  “Yeah, makes more sense than you flipping out for no reason and blowing their HQ to high hell for the fun of it in the middle of a job.”

  “A little. So, The Smoke Devils brought the Follieros to Green Point?”

  “Yeah, that Keith cocksucker told me I was going to pay for everything you did. I think the Folliero soldiers were already with him, seeing if the massive mushroom cloud was in any way related to what happened at the Mondalo house, and he was happy to work with them if it meant revenge on us.”

  “Green Point Ex Machina are pissed with us too, I bet,” I said.

  “They’re pissed, but not with us. They should have spotted that GPS unit before trouble arrived. I’m funding the retaliation for them. The Smoke Devils are going to be wiped off the map in a hell of a violent way pretty soon and Ex Machina will expand into their former territory.”

  “All’s well that ends well.”

  “And you were responsible for the mass murder at the Southern Style?” Jace asked.

  “Well, four Folliero soldiers. I guess they were just sweeping all the hotels and hoping for the best?”

  “That’s my best guess too.”

  “OK, good to know. We’ll see you on Tuesday night then.”

  “Well, actually, there’s a complication,” said Jace.

  I looked from side to side as if the complication might manifest itself right here. The way this job was going, you couldn’t be too sure of anything anymore.

  “What… complication?”

  “I need you to go back to Green Point.”

  “Why?”

  “I had arranged to have something picked up in Green Point tomorrow. Something very important. The problem is, the guy dropping it off is dead.”

  “That’ll make things difficult. So now what?”

  “We got a text message saying the drop is still on schedule. That’s how we know he’s dead, he didn’t work the appropriate code word into the message.”

  “Great. So, somebody has hijacked it and wants to kill or capture whoever you’re sending to pick it up? Is that about right?”

  “Yeah. Basically, I need you to go back to the one city where the Follieros and The Smoke Devils are looking for you, to meet with somebody who is expecting you and will want to capture and torture you for information.”

  “You’re not selling it very well. I really can’t do this, sir. I’ve dragged the… package through more gunfights than we have any business surviving already. This ‘little extra’ is going to put the current contract at risk.”

  “When are you going to cave and just accept a salary? You don’t have time to work for anybody else anyway.”

  “Is this the time for an annual performance review?” I asked.

  “No, but the fact remains, I need you to do this. It is essential, you understand? Consider it a concurrent
contract, same fee again as your current job.”

  Another five million would be fun, but it wasn’t like I needed the cash. The bonus I received for my work in Highston alone was what most hitmen would have called “The Last Score” kind of money. All the extra money in the world wouldn’t be worth it if I got myself killed.

  I sucked air in through my teeth like a mechanic looking at a spluttering motor. “Just how essential is this? Isn’t there somebody else you can send?”

  “You’re the one I trust above any others to be capable enough, who isn’t currently occupied with something else and is close enough to pull the job off. It’s obviously not a simple handing over of a briefcase anymore. There’s one more thing, another reason I’m specifically asking you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Dan did some digging and found the contract for the hit on our contact. From what we can tell, it was accepted by Joseph Cosgrove.”

  “Ugh.”

  I ran my hand through my hair when I heard the name. We had history, the two of us. He was ex-military, like me, but he was the kind of guy who enlisted just for the chance to “accidentally” kill civilians. And worse.

  He was the one who took the job I refused to do for the Picollis. He was one of many who took the contract the Picollis subsequently put out on me, and the only one who came close to actually killing me.

  The guy was psycho. Skilled, but a fucking psycho, and it might be a matter of professional pride for him to have a chance at me even though the Picollis weren’t paying out on contracts anymore. I wasn’t sure whether this piece of news was good or bad.

  “I don’t know if the fact that he’s involved is too good an opportunity to miss, or a good reason to stay away under the circumstances, sir.”

  “Like I said, it’s essential I get that briefcase. I’m sorry to put this on you too, but you’re the only one who can do it right.”

  “Ugh. OK. Where is the drop off, and when exactly is it scheduled for?”

  “There’s this little café…”

  Eliana

  Nobody was more surprised than me when Eric turned the car around and drove us back to Green Point. He definitely took the cake for most disgruntled, though.

  We stopped at a gas station with an attached fish bait/tackle store. Along with a fresh tank of gas, he picked up some binoculars and a map that he actually had to wipe dust off of. Clearly the market for street maps had crashed over the last few decades.

  “We going bird-watching?” I asked, when he drove us to the top of a hill in the suburbs.

  “I wish.”

  He parked the car in one of the spaces, all of which were available. We had the area completely to ourselves right now, with the morning sun shining on the dew, but this was probably a popular place for young couples to park their cars at night and look out at the lights, among other things.

  Resting the map on the steering wheel, he trained the binoculars on the streets below us, looking down every now and then as if to confirm the location of something. I stretched my legs out as far as the footwell would let me.

  “There you are,” he muttered.

  “Can I get out and stretch my legs?” I asked, jingling the handcuffs that attached my wrist to the door.

  Eric looked down at my legs, then at the clock, and thought about it. “Sure.”

  He exited on his side and circled around. When he opened my door, my arm was pulled out with it and he paused as if still deciding which end of the cuffs to take off.

  Eric caught my eye. “Don’t run. You’ll only put other people in danger. Understand?”

  “I won’t.”

  He unlocked the cuff on my wrist, and I gave it a rub. I must have been damn near breaking the skin while he fucked me, I’d pulled that hard on the handcuffs.

  My knee popped when I stood up and I put my hands on my lower back before stretching and hearing similar sounds. I looked up at the beautiful blue sky for a second before straightening up.

  Eric walked by my side around the hilltop, on the grass all around the parking lot. Our footsteps showed up clearly in the dew when I looked back on our path.

  Two days ago I never could have believed I’d be here. With him. I stole a glance at his somber expression, watching everything, ready for whatever came, and realized that I didn’t really know where “here” was in anything more than a general geographical sense, and I knew even less about who “he” was.

  “Who are you?” I repeated the first question I’d ever asked him.

  “It doesn’t matter. You know everything you need to know. I’m the guy they call when they need a clean kill. A specific message sent. When things have to go exactly according to plan.”

  “Like this?”

  “Unlike just about everything that’s happened in the last couple of days. What about you? I’ve taken a few prisoners in my time. Seen a few rich women too. None of them acted like you. It’s like you don’t really give a fuck about the fact that you’ve been kidnapped, ripped out of that perfect life, about all the bullets flying in our general direction.”

  Perfect life. What a joke.

  “You think I’m your prisoner?” I asked.

  “You think you’re not?” he countered.

  “Pfff. Perfect.” I shook my head in disgust and paused before continuing. “I’ve been a prisoner my whole life. Trapped inside that house, all alone, with no hope and some stupid dreams that will never come true.”

  To my surprise, I felt a lump in my throat and tears welling up. I did my best to swallow it down and blink the blurriness away. What was going on? It wasn’t like this was news to me.

  “I don’t have any friends. I never met anybody who could be my friend. They wouldn’t like me if they met me anyway. I’m… weird... I’m… not nice…”

  The tears crossed the line between manageable and beyond the realm of blinking-away. No, none of this was news to me, but it was the first time I’d spoken them aloud, the first time I’d heard them with my own ears. There was never anybody else to say it to before.

  All my insecurities, my fears, my worst thoughts, caught wind that the gates had been left open and they came thick and fast, rushing to be heard while they had the chance. The window of opportunity was doubtless going to be very small.

  “Nobody sees me. Nobody touches me. I needed to be seen… touched… before…” I gulped. “My father arranged a marriage for me. I had nothing to look forward to except for my husband choking on a sandwich mid-sex.”

  “Couldn’t you just…”

  “Couldn’t I just nothing. What I want doesn’t matter. It never did.” I sob-sighed. “It never will. I was a bargaining chip to solidify his power. Nothing more.”

  I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand and stopped walking. He turned to face me, but I turned to the side, to face the sun, and closed my eyes again.

  “You think I’m a prisoner now, but you’re wrong. This is… freedom.”

  I took a deep breath, maybe the deepest I’d ever taken, and felt the cold morning air in my lungs while the sun shone on my face. My hands rose with the intake of air as if I was performing some kind of ritual. Maybe I was. Maybe this was a cleansing ritual. This was freedom.

  When I opened my eyes again, Eric was watching me intently, as if I was the center of the universe. He saw me. He really saw me. I grimaced, speaking through gritted teeth against the sobs that wanted to turn me into a stuttering mess.

  “I waited forever… for you. I wish… I don’t know. I’ll be dead soon anyway, but you gave me this. So, thank you.”

  “You don’t have to die, Eliana. Just do as I say and-”

  “And you’ll deliver me to your boss. What do you think he’s going to do? At that biker bar, you told him who you worked for. It sounded like Jace Barlow, is that right? He’s just like all the others. There’s blood on his hands. Rivers of Mafia family blood. You know that.”

  “He’s not like the others,” Eric said, unconvincingly.

  “N
o?”

  “No. You don’t have to die.”

  Eric took a couple of steps and stood in front of me, casting a shadow over my face and turning himself into a silhouette, except for his blue eyes that shone through. He cradled my face with his hands and wiped my tears away with his thumbs.

  “I see you, Eliana Mondalo. I’m touching you, and nobody can stop me, as long as you want to be seen and touched. I am going to do my job. I am going to get you to Jace safely, and you’ll see.”

  That was a lot more convincing. I stood up on the tips of my toes and kissed him. His strength flowed into me, through his lips, through his hands. When our lips parted, I stayed close. From this distance, I could see his features more clearly.

  “Who’s telling me this? Who’s kissing me?”

  Eric

  She ripped my heart out and ground it to a pulp under her shoe. I was lucky I hadn’t bought her high-heels.

  Standing there she cried like it was the first time she’d seen the sun come up. The light reflected off the tracks of the tears on her face, and her skin glowed.

  She was already the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. In that moment she was an angel walking the Earth, broken and betrayed by everybody she’d ever met.

  I felt like the world’s biggest asshole for being part of a machine that was continuing to use her as a bargaining chip. Hopefully, when all this was over, she’d see that I was right. Jace was different.

  Hopefully. Eliana was unknowingly pouring water on that seed of doubt I’d needed Jace to reassure me about before I took this job in the first place.

  She was right, about a lot of things. There was blood on Jace’s hands, and his hands had been dirty for a long time.

  He’d drawn a line between his underworld and the world everybody else thought they were living in, the innocent bystanders, in a way that no head of any organized crime establishment ever had. But what would he do with Eliana?