Tempted: A Bad Boy Next Door Romance

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Tempted: A Bad Boy Next Door Romance Page 28

by Willow Winters


  I watch in a daze as Elle sings in an upbeat voice to Angelo. “Sitting in my high chair, my chair, high chair. Sitting in my high chair, banging my spoon!” She bangs on the tray in rhythm to the words, and the little one squeals with joy.

  Vince is saying something, but all I can hear is Elle. The happiness in her voice, the love in her words. I want Tonya to have that. She deserves that. I could give it to her. I should go to her and beg for her to take me back. I’d give her the world. I’d change for her. I swear I would.

  She asked me for one thing, and I never even gave it to her. All this time I could’ve told her. I should’ve told her that Petrov’s dead. But I didn’t.

  “Jesus, Tommy! Are you even listening to me?” Vince’s voice snaps me out of it and I turn to look at him. I feel all choked up like a little bitch.

  “You gotta get your shit together,” he says.

  “Yeah, I know, boss.”

  “I’m talking to you as family, Tommy. What the fuck is wrong with you? You should be happy. The charges were dropped. You’re a free man, but you look like death.”

  I shake my head, not knowing how to tell him. I look back at my cousin and know that I can’t. You don’t leave the familia. Well, there’s one way to leave.

  I turn my head back to Elle as Vince leaves me with a pissed-off sigh.

  “Bring on the carrots, bring on the peas,” she lowers her voice, “Somebody feed this baby, please.”

  Both she and her baby laugh. My eyes drop to the floor.

  I don’t deserve Tonya. I won’t ever be able to give her that. I'm only going to bring her more pain or worse...

  Tonya

  I feel like hell, I look like hell; I’m fucking living in hell. I’m in a meeting with half a dozen cops going over the portfolio of several suspects in the investigation. There have been three reports of missing women in the upper east side suburb over the last two months, all fitting the same description.

  I can’t even look at their pictures. Melissa was a tall blonde with dark brown eyes. These women look nothing like her. Yet I only see her face. She’s staring back at me. And I can’t face her. I have nothing. I’ve come this far, for nothing.

  “I wish we’d known when the other women were abducted.” For some reason I blurt out the words, and Harrison pauses his presentation.

  “Which women?” Jerry asks from my left. “All their data is in the portfolio.”

  I shake my head. “The twelve. Petrov’s dozen.” That’s what they named them at the station. It’s what the media used when they released the story. I hate it. I hate the name. Each woman was her own person, with her own name. But that’s how they’re referred to here. And I’ve been trying the 'fake it till you make it' approach. So I’ll do what’s expected and call them that. But I hate it.

  “What do you mean? We knew,” Carl answers from across the table. He’s an officer like me, with a few years of experience under his belt. But a nice guy in general. He’s got a wife and two kids. One’s in middle school and the other is in kindergarten. I stare at him blankly, thinking I must’ve heard wrong. We didn’t know Petrov’s men had them. We had eyes on two locations. We were waiting for him to be seen so we could arrest him. We had enough against the other men, three were wanted in multiple countries. We left them as bait for Petrov. But we didn’t know about the women until the day we found them.

  “You were a bit wet behind the ears, so you weren’t in on that intel, but we had eyes on a Felipe Barros.”

  Harrison continues for Carl, and I look between the two of them with a mixture of disbelief, hate, and disgust. “It was important that we waited until Petrov was spotted so that we could link him to the abductions.”

  “You knew where the women were located?” I ask in a voice I don’t recognize. It’s almost like I’m watching the scene, rather than participating.

  Jerry puts his hand on my forearm in an attempt to placate me, but I pull away and stare at him. “We felt it was best since you were new on the case to keep you in the dark on some aspects. We were planning on telling you, but everything just happened so fast.”

  They knew. I look around the table and everyone’s eyes are on me.

  “You all knew?”

  “Not about all of them. We had reason to believe that three of the women were being held at their headquarters,” Harrison says.

  “But you didn’t go in?” I look at him with confusion.

  “We couldn’t risk the operation,” Harrison responds simply.

  “But we could’ve saved them.”

  “We did.” Harrison speaks up and I find myself biting my tongue. We didn’t save anyone.

  “What about Georgia Stevens?” I ask them with a dull voice.

  “Which one is that?” Carl asks. My eyes bore into his skull.

  “She was the victim in Abram’s car,” Jerry answers to my left. I clench my teeth and feel the tears prick at my eyes, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come.

  “Did you know?” I look Harrison in the eyes, and he has the decency to look ashamed.

  “We knew,” he answers after a moment, and it’s the last nail in the coffin. I lose all sense of composure.

  “You didn’t look for her? You didn’t try to save her?” My breathing picks up, and I have to try hard to keep it steady.

  “Petrov would’ve been a big fish to catch. The number of crimes and murders we could’ve stopped--” Harrison speaks calmly and with conviction, but that’s not enough for me.

  I cut him off and raise my voice as I ask, “One woman wasn’t enough? How many women would have been worth it to step in?” Tears slip down my cheeks.

  “We were keeping an eye on their location--” Carl starts to respond and I cut him off, too.

  “Oh, so was she dead before, or after he shoved her in the trunk?” The room goes silent, and the only thing I can hear is the pounding of my heart in my chest.

  “We did everything that we could--” Jerry starts to give me an excuse, but I’m not having it.

  “Don’t fucking lie to me.” I’m so angry I’m shaking. I pound both of my fists on the table as my voice cracks. They knew, and did nothing. My heart beats too hard, my blood rushes too fast. “Why wasn't she good enough?” I feel my heart twist in my chest. Would Melissa have been good enough? Would they have saved her? Tears leak from my eyes as multiple people start talking over one another to justify their actions. This happens. Sacrifices are made. I know this. But it's not okay.

  I stare into Harrison's eyes as I inform him, “She had a son.” I don't bother wiping the tears off my face. I'm too far gone for this. “What if it had been your mother? Or your sister?” I yell out my questions so loud it makes my throat sore. I see Jerry reaching out for me from the corner of my eye. I stand up from the table and my chair falls back. I almost stumble over it, just trying to get out of the room.

  She was a person. She was a victim. She was worth saving.

  I would have saved her. I would have risked everything to save her.

  “You don’t understand. We couldn't risk the entire operation,” Harrison calls out to me as I turn my back on him and leave. I can faintly hear the other officers, but I don’t listen to what they’re saying. I don’t make it to my office. I turn the corner and crouch to the ground. Sobs tear through my chest and I know they can hear me, but I don’t care. I have to purge this sickness that’s taken over my body. I feel lightheaded and nauseated.

  I would do anything to go back and save her.

  I can’t do this. I shake my head as my face heats and my hands tremble. It’s too much. I’ve failed my sister, but I’m just not strong enough to handle this.

  I brush away the tears with the back of my hand and slowly stand, resting against the wall.

  I’ll find another way. I can’t chase ghosts anymore.

  Tonya

  I look around my apartment, and it’s almost pathetic how little there is to pack up. I don’t know how I didn’t notice. I look down at the op
en box next to my bookshelf. It's full of all my favorite romance novels. I used to love reading. From Fifty Shades and BB Hamel to Riley Rollins’ Bad Boys and Marci Fawn's Mafia men. I huff a laugh, but it's humorless and pains my chest. I only read books with happily ever afters, but this is real life, and there's no guaranteed HEA for me.

  I didn't take a single book out the entire time I've been here. I used to read every night. It's been so long. It was my stress relief. I could get lost in a book and forget the world around me. A woman with a book never goes to bed alone. But I've been alone every night and I never sought out the comfort. I never tried to get lost in a different world. Maybe a part of me was just punishing myself, like I deserved to be alone and without any happiness.

  I should call my mom to let her know I’m headed home, but I don’t want to. The last time I called her she picked a fight. She likes to throw the fact that I used to party in my face. She likes to blame Melissa getting taken on me. She twists it around in such a sick way that I can see her logic. And I can’t take that shit right now.

  I pull my hair up and into a ponytail. It’s just habit now. I hardly ever used to wear my hair up, but it’s nice to get it away from my face. I’ll have to think of something else though, I want as few reminders as possible. I want everything about these last few months to just disappear. It hurts too much.

  I feel like a failure on so many levels. I know my sister wouldn’t think that, or at least she wouldn’t tell me that I failed her. My chest hurts just thinking about how she would try to console me if she knew how much I was hurting for her.

  I’m not sure this pain will ever go away. I’m ready to deal with it, though. I have to. With no one to blame and no one to chase, all I have are memories flooding my thoughts. I lick my dry lips and take a seat on a box. I don’t know what’s in it, and I don’t care. I just need to sit down. I’ve wasted too much time and energy searching for revenge. Harrison is right about one thing at least. There’s always going to be someone like Petrov.

  My heart pangs in my chest. I still don’t know for sure. Tommy could’ve told me. I think if I’d asked him, he would’ve told me. I’ve thought that before though, and I was wrong. But something about our last time together makes me think...I close my eyes and stop that train of thought. I can’t possibly think that.

  Love isn’t something I’m used to feeling. Not for a man. But the way he held me, the way he soothed every pain. My hands cover my face and I hunch over, sobs wracking my body. I'm such an idiot. What kind of person falls for a man like him? I'm a cop, for Chrissake! Or was a cop. I could've been killed. That's all I could think when I heard his brother's voice. They're going to kill us. The reality slapped me across the face.

  But what if it was love?

  The thought strikes my heart and causes a lump to grow in my throat. I try to stand, but a wave of lightheadedness and nausea make me slowly lower myself to the floor in a crouched stance. I balance myself on the balls of my feet for a moment. Once I think I can stand, I slowly rise, but the nausea hits again and I sprint to the bathroom.

  I dry-heave into the toilet and it fucking hurts.

  I turn and sit on the tiled floor with my back against the cabinet. My face feels hot and I close my eyes. I'm so tired and feel so sick. It's almost as if I'm pregnant.

  My eyes pop open at the thought, and my heart refuses to beat in my chest. Pregnant. Fuck! I frantically try to remember the day. It's the end of the month. Fuck! Fuck!

  I don't remember the last time I got my shot. I get one every three months. I've lost track of time, but I know I get them at the beginning of the month. I went a full month without birth control. How could I be so fucking stupid?

  Fuck, no fucking way. I put my hand to my forehead as if I'd be able to tell I had a pregnancy temperature. Fuck! We've only been fooling around for a few weeks.

  It only takes once.

  Panic sets in and I storm through my apartment, picking up boxes until I get to a small one marked bathroom supplies. It was still half packed up until today, when I tossed the rest of the contents back in. I dig through it and find an old pregnancy test. The kind with a + sign for positive. It's not in a box so I look on the thick foil surrounding it for an expiration date, but I don't see one anywhere.

  My skin heats and anxiety runs through me. I can't be pregnant. I can't.

  I rip it open and leave the foil on the floor as I dart to the bathroom.

  I’ve never been shy or anxious about peeing before, but it takes way too long for me to get a stream going, probably because I'm so nervous. Finally, my bodily functions obey and I put the stick under the stream for what seems like a long enough time and then slip the cap back on. I wipe it off with some toilet paper and set it down on the sink to wait, but I don’t have to.

  As the liquid runs through the window, I can already see it. Positive.

  A faint + sign shows up almost immediately.

  I stare at it without breathing.

  I can’t believe it. I’m pregnant.

  Nausea and lightheadedness hit me at once, as if my body wants to confirm what the test is saying. I fall off the toilet and turn to hug the bowl as the sickness comes up. My skin flushes with heat, followed by chills as I wipe my mouth and try to sit up.

  I’m pregnant.

  I never planned for this. I never even considered children or a life where I settled down. I just didn’t think it was for me. That kind of life was for my sister.

  My hand hesitantly touches my belly, and tears well in my eyes. She would have loved to have a baby. But not with a man like Tommy.

  I stand at the sink and turn on the water to gargle it and try to feel better.

  I can’t be far along. The thought enters my mind quickly, that I could leave and he’d never know. He’d most likely never find out. Even if he did, he’s not the type of man who’d want a child. Right? If he found me, if he ever thought to look for me and found me with his child, I don't know what he'd do.

  The thought makes my chest hurt even more. I'm bringing a child into this world and I don't even know if the man I think I love would want either of us.

  I've felt strong my entire life. But right now, all I feel is weak.

  I slowly stand and try to calm my breathing.

  I can't just leave. I have to tell him.

  If he doesn't want this baby, I'll leave and never come back. But if he does...I pause my steps and lean against the wall. If he does, I don't know what I'll do. I can't stay. I doubt he'd ever leave his familia. As if they'd give him a choice. I close my eyes and shake my head as I walk to the bed, gripping the locket in my hand. I lie back and try to think of what my sister would do. I know what she'd do. She'd tell him she was pregnant. And she'd move on with her life, loving her child. She may have never seen herself as strong. But she was. She was so fucking strong for always doing the right thing and sticking to what she believed in.

  “I need you.” My fingers slowly scroll over the locket's tiny engravings. “I need you right now.” I whisper my words in a pained voice as tears slowly roll down my cheeks.

  Do the right thing. That's what she'd tell me. She'd smile. She'd make sure this baby was born into a life surrounded by nothing but love.

  And I will, too. I won't settle for anything else. I wipe the tears away and get my shit together. I breathe in with a long inhalation, and breathe out just as long.

  Holy fuck, I'm really pregnant. An hour ago I felt like I had nothing, and no one. And now, everything has changed.

  Tonya

  The walk up to Tommy's apartment is difficult. Every step toward him brings me closer to knowing whether or not he'll want me and this baby. My hand settles on my tummy as I get to the first landing and continue walking up the stairs. The outcome is most likely going to kill a piece of my soul. He can't be with me, and a man like him doesn't want to settle down with a baby. But it's the right thing to tell him. So I have to do this.

  With my resolve firm, I brace myself to walk up t
o his door, but when I look up, my heart freezes in my chest. Vincent Valetti stares back at me with a look of contempt.

  I push down all the emotions I'm feeling and school my face. My heart pounds in my chest with fear. I can't die now. Now when I have this life to protect.

  “Officer Kelly.” Vince speaks with a hard voice and an even harder expression.

  “Miss Kelly, now,” I respond without backing down from his stare. He may be the Don, and he can definitely hurt me, but I know better than to show weakness to men like him.

  “Oh, I see. Did you think that'd make it alright for you to cuddle up to my men?” he asks.

  The way he says it makes me want to knee this prick in his groin. I may not be in a committed relationship, but I'm not a whore. And what he's implying pisses me off.

  “No, I didn't. And if my slut memory is correct, I've only been fucking Tommy, so you can shove that bullshit right back up your ass.”

  He narrows his eyes and grinds his teeth. He's looking at me like he's not sure what to do with me. After a long moment of neither of us backing down he says, “I didn't mean to offend you.”

  “Yes you did,” I'm quick to answer.

  He grins at me with a twinkle of delight in his eyes and agrees, ”You're right. But I'm generally not fond of cops. Please accept my apology.”

  My eyes finally break away from his and I feel like I can breathe. I nod and swallow thickly, looking at Tommy's door.

  “You're here to see Tommy, then? You quit to be with him?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “No, I quit because I never should have been a cop.”

  “You don't think you have what it takes?” he assumes.

  “No, I think I'd be a great cop if I had the determination for it. If I had the heart for it. But I don't. I joined for the wrong reason.”

  “What reason is that?” He tilts his head as if he's sizing me up. He's going to judge me, just like everyone else. I don't give a fuck, though. They can all judge me if they like, but I'm not going to change for them.

 

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