Double Deep Dark Desires

by Olivia Harp

  Beast shrugged, “it’s going to remain a mystery for now.”

  “He thinks his name’s bad luck.”

  “Really, why?”

  “It’s an ugly name,” Beast said.

  She looked at him, her eyes going soft.

  “Okay, it’s your decision, I can respect that. Nice to meet you, Beast.”

  He chuckled and shook her hand. It was like a lightning bolt falling on him. Electric. It was much more than he could take. Her soft, hot skin made him hard in a fucking second.

  Fucking hell, who are you?

  This was dangerous. As soon as this meeting was over, he would walk away and never turn back. He couldn’t see her again. She had a shine of her own, and he was only mud and bad luck. She deserved better.

  He saw his own reflection in her eyes, and for a second wished he was another person, living another life. Then maybe, just maybe, he would have asked her out.

  “You work here on your own?” Mills asked.

  “Yeah,” she replied, “I don’t get that many customers so I can’t afford to—”

  She stopped.

  “I mean, you know, I can work this on my own, don’t need additional help yet.”

  “Things are tough, huh?”

  She shrugged, “who said life was easy?”

  Beast smiled. She had a dark sense of humor.

  “This is damn good coffee,” Mills said, taking a sip of it.

  “Thanks, straight from Italy, the best in the world.”

  She turned around to set some tools on the back counter. Beast was still hard, and this was only making it worse.

  She wore a soft pink apron that hid most of her body, but now that she turned around he tried —unsuccesfully— to look away from her.

  She does have a nice ass.

  His boss was right.

  He’s still an asshole, though.

  Jena caught him staring at her, looking at him through the mirror. He looked away, half embarrassed, half smiling.

  God damn it.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he was embarrassed. He usually did whatever he felt like doing and if people didn’t like it, well, fuck ‘em. He had nothing to prove anymore, and anyone who dared to confront him soon realized what a bad idea that was.

  He never considered himself a thug, but that’s what he was, if he was honest with himself. A freaking criminal, good with his gun and his fists.

  Those skills took him off the streets, after all. He knew how to fight, and in this business, that’s half of what it takes to stay alive.

  The other half is knowing when to take a man’s life. He didn’t like it, most of the time, but he didn’t have to. It was a job, after all. It was his life or theirs.

  This woman right here, she didn’t need someone like him in her life.

  But when he turned back to see her, she was smiling. She was the most beautiful person in the world.

  Shit.

  This was getting worse by the second.

  Chapter 4

  Mills

  Mills was good with women, but this time it felt completely different.

  Don’t get too close to anyone. That was his rule.

  Jena was beautiful, yes, and of course, he wanted to take her home and fuck her brains out until she screamed his name so loud the whole neighborhood knew she belonged to him.

  But at the same time, he didn’t.

  Her eyes, her hair, her body, she was perfect in every way, but it was her smile that did him in.

  He couldn’t stop looking at her. What was going on? Her voice was like a melody reaching down from Heaven, letting him catch a glimpse of everything he was missing.

  The moment he tapped on her hand to talk to her sealed the deal. Yeah, he was fucked.

  Was this lust? He wanted her, sure. But it was also so much more.

  One thing was for certain, though. He had to get away as soon as possible.

  When she looked at Beast he almost went mad with jealousy. He had only been talking to her for like five minutes and he was already going insane.

  Good thing she diffused the situation with her good attitude, her smile, her jokes, everything. She was a hard worker; he respected that more than anything.

  “Did you just open up? I never heard of this place before today.”

  “Six months ago,” she said, “I thought it was going to be easier, though.”

  “I don’t understand how you’re having problems. This coffee is incredible.”

  “Well, I don’t get it either.”

  She leaned back on the back wall, sighing deeply.

  “Hey, it’s snowing!”

  He and Beast turned to look outside and there it was: the first snow of the season, painting everything in white.

  He hated snow. Well, you know, not the thing itself, but work was so much more difficult with weather like that.

  People don’t go out when it’s snowing. He and his friend had to kick doors down to collect whatever shit people owed their boss, be it money or blood. And that was on a good day.

  On a bad day, the—

  “Well, of course you don’t!” His boss yelled, hitting the table with his fist.

  Shit. Something was up.

  “Let’s go,” Beast said, his voice turned as cold as winter itself. Mills made a mistake, he relaxed with all this conversation. He lowered his guard.

  “This is business, act like a God-damned businessman!”

  “Listen to yourself!” Enrico Saliani replied calmly.

  “Fuck off!” His boss yelled.

  “No, fuck you, Caronte!”

  Saliani stood up and reached for the weapon in his belt, hidden beneath the big coat he wore.

  The two bodyguards behind him kicked the table the moment Mr. Caronte tried to stand, hitting him in the stomach, taking the air out of him, dropping him to the ground.

  The sound of a gun exploding left Mills completely deaf, the instant it took him to blink was long enough for him to take his gun out and point it at a bodyguard.

  A gun fired next to him again, it was Beast, shooting for the second time. He could feel the cold hand of Death tapping on his shoulder, telling him it had come again to visit. Would he be the one she’d take with her this time?

  The bodyguard nearer to them painted the wall behind him red with his blood. Another loud crack of thunder blasted his eardrums, Beast was firing again. Everything was going in slow-motion.

  Saliani and the tattooed bodyguard fired back at them, he ducked behind a set of tables. He should have been nervous, his boss was too close to the enemy, they could take him out, but the only person he could think of was her.

  She stood behind the counter, bullets wheezing past her. Cold fear filled him in an instant.

  Fuck it. Mills fired at the back room as he jumped over the bar to bring Jena down to the floor, she kept on screaming, panic taking a hold of her.

  Shit, this wasn’t going to end up well.

  “Stay down!” He yelled and joined Beast, firing at the bastards again and again, each of them changing magazines in turns, they couldn’t allow them to fire back.

  The enemy hid behind an upright table. To the left, Caronte lied on the ground, Mills didn’t know if he was still alive.

  Saliani and the thug fired blindly at them, they couldn’t escape—

  Shit.

  There was an emergency exit right next to them. He hadn’t seen it, hidden in the dark, the sign above it was dead.

  Shit like this wasn’t like in the movies, mob bosses weren’t educated, reasonable men.

  This were different times. People got too much money too fast, mostly by killing everyone they thought could be an enemy. There was no honor in the business anymore.

  The tattooed fucker ran to the door and crashed his body against it, opening it in a thud, falling down outside.

  His Glock went off again and again —sixteen bullets plus one in the chamber, after all— the sound of death filled the air until there was n
othing but silece.

  He stood up, his gun pointed ahead.

  “You okay?” Beast asked.

  He looked down to see Jena cowering in fear.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

  This was even worse than he thought. The girl didn’t deserve this. Life was hard enough without all this bullshit.

  There he is.

  Saliani was making a break for it. He ran to the exit, firing at him and Beast, but it was too late.

  He got riddled with bullets, his body dropping down in a heavy thud against the wall.

  He was still breathing, his eyes full of surprise, trying to understand what just happened. He was dying. The enemy got him.

  “You okay?” Beast yelled again.

  “Yeah,” he replied.

  “What about her?”

  A flash of jealousy filled him. He looked at Jena, she was in fetal position, covering her ears. Seeing her like that broke his heart.

  Or whatever he had in his chest, he was sure he didn’t have a heart anymore, not after everything he’d done in his life.

  Not after doing this to this perfect, beautiful woman.

  “She’s all right, too.”

  He walked forward, eyeing the exit. If the thug was smart he would have been gone by now.

  If he wasn’t, if he was loyal, and I mean, really loyal, he’d shoot them from outside.

  Every step forward was like gambling their lives. Every step was an affront to death, daring it to finally take him with it.

  One bullet. That’s all you need. Get shot once and you’re dead.

  But the tattooed man wasn’t there. He ran away.

  Of course he did.

  “Motherfucker,” he heard a voice say, “is he dead?”

  It was boss Caronte. He had a bullet in his shoulder, his suit turning dark red. They needed to move fast, take him to Joseph to stop the bleeding.

  “What’s that noise?” The boss asked.

  Then he heard it and every muscle in his body stiffened.

  It was Jena, she was crying, whimpering quietly, as quietly as anyone can.

  Fucking hell.

  She was a witness.

  Chapter 5

  Beast

  “Help me up!” Boss Caronte said. His arm looked bad, gushing out blood into the floor.

  He’s going to lose consciousness.

  Beast grabbed his other arm, pulling him up, Mills was shouting for the driver outside. They needed to get him to Dr. Joseph Marconi as soon as possible.

  That fucker Saliani was still breathing, his glazed eyes staring at them in silence.

  Caronte grabbed the gun in his belt and shot him between the eyes.

  Shit.

  He was dead anyway, no reason to do that.

  “What’s that damn noise?” The old man asked for a second time.

  Beast tried to play it down, it was her, of course, Jena, crying. This happened too fast, no time for her to realize what was going on until it was too late.

  His boss killed the head of the Saliani family. If he remembered she was there he would need to do the same to her.

  “Wait, Beast,” Caronte said as he walked to the front door, grabbing his arm, trying to reach out and see who was behind the counter.

  “Come on, boss!” Mills said from the door, his driver quickly opening the door for him.

  Beast pulled him closer to the exit, pretending he was scared for his life.

  If his boss saw her, she was as good as dead. I won’t allow it.

  Mills looked at Beast, he could read him better than anyone.

  He’s thinking the same thing.

  He and Caronte crossed door outside, the sudden cold pierced their skin. The snow kept on falling, making the air feel much colder than just an hour ago.

  Mr. Caronte stumbled. Beast grabbed him harder so he wouldn’t fall, and the driver took his other arm, trying to help him get inside the vehicle.

  “Get off!” His boss screamed in pain. The kid jumped back full of fear.

  He was almost gone. Just another minute and Jena would be safe. Beast took a deep breath, trying to relax, but the boss stopped.

  He turned around in a jerking motion, his face fixed on the coffee house’s window. Right between the words “Happy Days,” Jena lied with her back to the ceiling, shivering, trying to remain unnoticed.

  Mr. Caronte spat, his eyes turning to Beast.

  “She’s still there,” he whispered, “you know what to do.”

  Violence rushed through Beast’s head. He wouldn’t allow it.

  “Take her out,” he said.

  Beast could choke him right then, put an end to it. After more than ten years of loyalty, after killing dozens of men in his name, he would do it for a woman he just met.

  It’s worth it.

  “You know what to do,” the man spat again, to Mills this time, stood on the threshold of the coffee house, “we don’t want any witnesses.”

  Beast put his hand on his gun. If he shot him he would have to take the driver out, too. He was a new guy, probably not a day older than twenty. He didn’t even know his name yet.

  Tough call.

  His boss turned to the SUV. Beast grabbed his gun. It was now or never. The safety was off, just one press of the trigger. One bullet is all it takes.

  “Yes, sir, no witnesses,” Mills said behind him.

  What?

  Mills was going to take her out. It couldn’t be true.

  There he was, in the middle of a snowfall, the city painted in white, the kid closing the SUV’s door, and Mills behind him, getting ready to kill an innocent girl.

  The girl of his dreams.

  He couldn’t move. His boss? He was a piece of shit, he wouldn’t lose sleep if he ever had to kill him, but Mills?

  They knew each other all their lives. Even before they got into this business. He was his friend.

  The only friend I’ve ever had.

  Mills walked inside The Happy Days, and Beast jumped to action, following him.

  He couldn’t let him do it.

  “Mills!” He yelled, suddenly noticing everything around him, as if it was imperative to remember this moment: the silent city getting darker by the second, the orange glow of the mercurial light reflected in the snow, the acrid and sour smell of gunpowder. Shit. He wouldn’t be able to go on if they did this to her.

  She’s innocent.

  The next second he was inside the cafe, but Mills was nowhere in sight.

  “It’s fine,” Mills whispered, “you’re okay.”

  He found him kneeling behind the counter, holding Jena in his arms, trying to calm her down.

  “What are you doing?” Beast asked.

  He knew it now, Mills wasn’t going to kill her. Not in a million years.

  One second ago he was ready to fight him, to stop him using whatever means necessary. Red hot fury overcoming him, like one of those berserker warriors he read about in books.

  Now, everything was fucking weird. He didn’t understand, and that made him feel weak.

  Her hand went up to Mills neck, holding him tighter.

  Then he understood: she was safe… and he was jealous.

  Chapter 6

  Jena

  Jena wasn’t crying because of the shootout. She wasn’t even crying because she heard the old man ordering them to take her out.

  She was crying because despite all of her efforts, despite having saved money all of her life to open her own business —one that failed miserably, by the way— she couldn’t ever seem to catch a break.

  Situations out of her control always came crashing at her door.

  And now this. She was either going to die, or leave town or—

  No. I’m not leaving.

  “What are you doing?” Beast asked, and she turned to him, not knowing whether he was going to follow that old man’s orders or not.

  She didn’t find coldness in his eyes, nor pity. He looked at her as if he’d done the worst thing imaginable
and was asking for forgiveness.

  “I don’t know,” Mills said to him, “what are you going to do?”

  Mills released her and suddenly her eyes fell on the dead bodies at the other end of her café.

  There was blood on the wall, but not as much as she thought it would be. The floor, though. A pool of blood gathered beneath two bodies.

  The older gentleman lay with his back against the wall, the bodyguard faced down, his right arm beneath his torso, the rest of his limp body in an awkward position.

  He was dead before he touched the floor.

  “I was gonna stop you from—” The taller man said, but stopped before finishing the sentence.

  She knew what he was going to say, stop you from killing her.

  Mills didn’t reply. He didn’t need to; it was as if they understood each other without even talking.

  “What now?” Beast asked.

  “We have to take her with us.”

  “No,” she whimpered automatically.

  She wouldn’t let a couple of strangers kidnap her, she would scream, she would yell for help, until someone heard her. Someone had to.

  “Please,” Beast said.

  This man looked like he could rip a phonebook in half without breaking a sweat. He looked mean and tough and incredibly strong.

  But right now, his eyes weren’t mean and hard. They were pleading. He was asking her to go with them voluntarily.

  “If you don’t come with us,” Mills said, “the boss is going to find out you’re alive and then we’ll all be in deep shit.”

  “I can hide—”

  “You can’t hide from him.”

  “And I can’t go to the police, right?”

  She knew she was risking it. Mentioning the police was either the kiss of death or a way to show them they could trust her. She was being straight, she was putting all the options on the table.

  “He’s Roberto Caronte, head of the Caronte family, have you heard of him? He owns the police,” Mills said.

  “You’ll have an unfortunate accident before the procedures even start,” Beast finished.

  “A mugging gone wrong.”

  “Two bullets in the back of your head.”

  “No items taken from you.”

  “That kind of shit.”

  She started to tremble. She was in deep shit.

  “You’re coming with us,” Beast said, “it’s for your own good.”