Soccer Mom (Killer Moms Book 1)

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Soccer Mom (Killer Moms Book 1) Page 17

by Eve Langlais


  “Why not go through the front door like Mother suggested?”

  Carla snorted. “No thanks. I’d prefer to go in unseen.”

  “In that case, you want to go in through here.” Tanya pointed to a spot on a terrain map, the aerial view a sharp image of the property. “Scale the wall by this tree. Watch for the dude over here.” She jabbed another section. “When he goes for his smoke, which happens every half hour, slip in.”

  “Seems too easy.”

  Tanya put her hand on Carla’s arm. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No.” Left unsaid, “This is my son. My duty.”

  “Then be careful.”

  Carla was super careful as she scaled the wall and sat on a tree branch. The irony of the camera sitting below her didn’t escape her notice. She kept out of its line of sight and waited to spot the guard Tanya had told her about. Sure enough, he walked the perimeter of the wall, cigarette in hand. Sloppy. She smelled him before she even saw him, making him easy to avoid.

  After he’d passed, she dropped from the tree and kept low to the ground. She used the bushes and shrubs in the garden to cover her approach. The open strip between the yard and the house gave her nowhere to hide, so she took a chance and sprinted across, plastering herself against the wall and inching along to the patio doors of the breakfast room. A quick peek inside showed it empty.

  No Nico mowing down on waffles. Not even a platter of bacon. Shame. She could have used a slice right about now. Then again, it wasn’t exactly breakfast time. Just before midnight, which meant most of the house would be asleep.

  Even Nico.

  Maybe after she’d rescued her son and sent Oliveira to meet his maker, they’d hit the nearest IHOP and fill up on pancakes smothered in syrup. Right after she hugged her boy hard enough to crack a few ribs.

  Because she would find him. No way would Carla leave without Nico.

  She inched in, holding her breath at the slight click when she shut the door. No sound of alarm. Weird. All that exterior protection and nothing on the doors.

  She exited the breakfast room into an equally empty hall, this time of the night not prone to much action. Given it was rather late, she assumed Oliveira was in bed. He’d get a rude awakening once she found him. The knife by her hip had a sharp edge.

  As she went to ghost past the doors to his office, she noticed them open. Odd. When she’d stayed here before, they were always closed. To get to the stairs, she’d have to go past them.

  A noise from the room let her know it was occupied.

  She swung into the doorway, gun extended, not really caring who was in there. If staff, then they could take her to Oliveira. If it was the bossman himself, even better.

  Oliveira sat in a chair in front of his desk, looking quite relaxed in a suit, no tie, top button of his shirt undone.

  “Hello, Carla.”

  “Don’t hello me, asshole. Where’s Nico?”

  “Upstairs. Sleeping.”

  She took a few steps forward, the barrel of her weapon aimed at his head. “You shouldn’t have taken him.”

  “That was an accident. My men panicked when they saw the danger. I assure you, he’s safe.”

  “I didn’t ask how he was, I said give him back.” Carla pressed the barrel against his forehead. “Now.”

  His expression remained placid. “So, the reports are true.”

  “What reports?”

  “The ones I had compiled the first moment I saw you. Although, I didn’t find out about your career until last night. An assassin for hire. That takes balls.”

  “It does. It also means I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger.”

  “Did you know you’re the spitting image of your mother?”

  The subject change was abrupt, putting Carla off balance. “What the fuck? How would you know?” Even more disturbing, how had he gotten a picture of her mother?

  “I knew her. Or should I say, my son did. Quite well, in fact. They were high school sweethearts until she moved away to America for a better life and married a man there.”

  “And? Do you really think I care if my mom dated your son? That doesn’t give you the right to steal mine.”

  “I didn’t mean to steal Nico, and you can leave with him at any time. I won’t stop you.”

  He must lie. She meant to prove it and backed towards the door, waiting for him to make some kind of signal. Set off an alarm.

  Instead, he said, “Did your mother ever tell you she returned for her sister’s wedding? Arabella, I think was her name.”

  Carla shook her head. “I wasn’t born yet when my aunt tied the knot.”

  “No, it happened about nine months before you were born. Beautiful ceremony, I was told. My son Santos attended, as well.”

  At the words nine months, a roaring noise began to fill her head, making it hard to hear his next words.

  “Santos and Juanita reconnected the week she visited. When the time came for her to leave, he begged her to stay. But she left. A week later, my son died in a car crash.”

  “The reports I read said he was drunk.” Fast times led to an early demise.

  “Drunk, yes, because he was grieving the loss of the woman he loved.”

  “Why should I care that your son and my mother had an affair?” She wanted him to say it. Say it aloud so she could deny it.

  “Imagine my surprise when watching some videos, looking for potential academy recruits, I saw a boy who is the spitting image of my son. Further research showed that his mother looked just like the woman my Santos loved.”

  Carla shook her head. “I knew my father. He was a miserable, abusive drunk.”

  “No, he wasn’t. Santos was a good man.”

  “You can’t seriously think your son is my father.”

  “You left before the results came in.” Oliveira pointed to an envelope on his desk. “I had a DNA test done. You are my granddaughter, and Nico, my great-grandson.”

  “No,” Carla denied it. Couldn’t listen to it. Wouldn’t believe it. Because if it were true…no, it changed nothing.

  Oliveira was still a stranger who’d stolen her son.

  Carla turned the barrel to point at Oliveira’s head, just as Nico burst in yelling, “Mami, don’t shoot.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Philip arrived just before 10:00 a.m., the plane he’d chartered getting him there faster than by car, but the hours spent giving his statement to police meant that he was well behind Carla. A woman who wasn’t answering his calls or texts.

  Arriving at the mansion, Philip was somewhat relieved that he didn’t see any flashing lights, not even those of an ambulance. The gate guards appeared relaxed and waved him through as if expecting him.

  Still, when he pulled up to the front of the house, he imagined the worst. Either Carla had killed Oliveira, or his boss’s guards had taken her out.

  What he didn’t expect was to see Nico in the far paddock, riding a pony with Oliveira and Carla standing side by side.

  Something was wrong with this picture.

  He exited the car and walked briskly in their direction. “Carla?”

  “Hey, soldier. About time you got here. You missed all the excitement.” Her bright smile took him aback.

  “Is everything okay?” Philip asked, confused by the relaxed vibe. His hand dropped to his side and the piece he’d grabbed on his way over.

  “I think so.”

  “More than okay.” Oliveira beamed. “I’d like to formally introduce you to my granddaughter, Carlotta Oliveira.”

  “Granddaughter?”

  “Long story.”

  “No shit. Are you sure?” Philip asked his boss.

  “The blood doesn’t lie.”

  “No, but you lied to me. Why not tell me?”

  “Because I wanted to be sure.” His boss shrugged. “This wouldn’t be the first time I saw a boy who reminded me of Santos. I worried you’d think I was a crazy old man for even suspecting it was possible.”
>
  “Grandpa, look at me,” Nico yelled as the pony went into a quicker trot.

  “You are looking great, Nico.” Oliveira moved away, and Philip sidled closer to Carla.

  “So, it’s true?”

  “Apparently. My handler verified his claim.”

  “Doesn’t make what he did right. Why not just fucking ask?”

  “Because I would have run.” Carla shrugged and scuffed the ground with her shoe. “My past is something I buried a long time ago. Any mention of it would have sent me into hiding with Nico.”

  “Still…” Philip frowned at Oliveira, who chatted with Nico, looking happier than Philip had ever seen.

  “I know. I’m still weirded out, as well.” She leaned against the fence and stared at him. “Did you know he’s been watching me for weeks?”

  He frowned. “No. I guess he hid that from me, too. Why did it take him so long to figure it out?”

  “For one thing, Carla Baker wasn’t the name I was born with. I left that name when I escaped Matias and my old life. So, Luiz’s initial research hit a dead end because he couldn’t figure out who Carla Baker was.”

  “You assumed a new identity.”

  “My agency set it up. Just like my agency muddled all trails leading to me. When Luiz began poking around, Mother sent a subtle warning to stop.”

  “Hold on, I thought your mother was dead.”

  “She is. The Mother I’m talking about is my handler.”

  He scrubbed his face. “This is complicated.”

  “I’m almost done. So, anyhow, given the threat, he thought it was a good idea to send you out to see if you could convince me to show up.”

  “Why not just contact you himself?”

  “Because he still wasn’t sure. He was having a hard time getting DNA samples. I’m a bit of a freak when it comes to wiping my traces. I don’t even put garbage on the curb. I wasn’t as careful when we were staying here, and Luiz got what he needed to run the tests.”

  “I still don’t understand why he didn’t say anything to me,” Philip grumbled. “I’ve been working for him for years.”

  “As his right-hand man and killer. You were his backup plan.”

  He gave her a sharp look. “Hold on, he sent me out there to kill you?” Because Oliveira never mentioned the possibility to him.

  “Not me. After Mother threatened Luiz, he thought I might be involved in something bad. Mob. Drugs. Bad shit that might require me to assume another identity. He sent you to extricate me from a sticky situation if needed.”

  “Fine, let’s say I’m following this convoluted soap opera. Why kidnap Nico?”

  “Total accident. He was having some private investigators watch me. They saw the brawl happening and thought they’d earn brownie points by spiriting Nico to safety.”

  “You didn’t wait for me,” was Philip’s reply to that.

  “Nico needed me.”

  “Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

  “I didn’t kill anyone,” Carla said with a smirk.

  “I was worried about you, nitwit. You should have waited for me so we could do this as a team.”

  She laced her arms around his neck. “Speaking of team, remember how I said I was relocating? I found a spot. Although, it might be temporary. I told Luiz I’d stick around so we could see if we can tolerate each other.”

  “He’s your family.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “What about your job?”

  “My insurance company will transfer me if I ask.”

  “I meant your other job.”

  She smiled. “Way I hear it, you could use a partner.”

  “Not just for work,” he noted, lacing his arms around her. “I like you Carla, Carlotta, or whatever name you want to use.”

  “I like you, too, Philip.” One of the rare times she addressed him by his name, but it was the kiss she placed on his lips that meant the most.

  Because it was in front of her son who yelled, “Eww. Gross. They’re kissing.”

  They did more than kiss when Philip snuck into her room that night.

  The moment he entered, Carla spun him into the wall, and her body crowded his.

  “Took you long enough,” she grumbled.

  “Oliveira kept me talking in his office. I think he was hoping I’d forget about visiting you.” As if he could stay away. The hard length of his cock pressed against her lower belly.

  “Think he’ll rush in with a shotgun and order you out?”

  “I’ll shoot him if he does,” Philip murmured as he laced his fingers through hers and kept her close enough to kiss.

  “I’ll find a shovel if it’s necessary.”

  “You are so fucking crazy perfect,” he murmured against her mouth.

  “So crazy I’ll kill you if you ever screw me over.”

  “Then I’d better do my best to make you happy.” He flipped their positions so that her cheek was against the wall and her ass facing him. The minx squirmed, rubbing herself against his erection.

  He curved a hand around her waist and encouraged her butt to arch in invitation.

  He shoved her pants down. Panties, too, baring her to his view. His touch.

  He ran a hand down her hip, and she wiggled.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “Say you’re my girlfriend.”

  “Why the fuck would I do that?” She cast him a coy look over her shoulder.

  He slid a hand between her legs, stroked her, watched her eyes dilate and heard her breathing hitch. “Because I don’t want to be a dirty secret.”

  “I kissed you in front of Nico.”

  “You did,” he acknowledged, “and now you’re going to say it. You’re my girlfriend.”

  “You’re my girlfriend,” she parroted, then laughed on a gasp as he slapped her ass.

  “Try again,” he said, grinding himself against her, his lips against the shell of her ear.

  “I’m your girlfriend.” The words spoken breathlessly.

  “Was that so hard?”

  Her ass rubbed against him as she replied, “It is very hard.”

  Hard and ready. Philip nudged her legs apart, spreading them for his touch. He fingered her as his free hand unzipped his pants.

  He traced her damp slit, parting her nether lips, dipping into the honeyed heat. He slid the finger deep, then added a second, penetrating her. Feeling her tightness, the wetness. The desire…

  She responded to his touch, moaning, trembling. Her breathing grew shallow as he pumped her with his fingers and, in reply, she rocked back against him. He stroked her over and over, building her pleasure, feeling her tighten with each deep thrust.

  When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he dropped to his knees, and she let out a cry of loss as his fingers slipped away only to be replaced by his tongue.

  With sinuous pleasure, he traced her sex, slipping his tongue between her nether lips, probing her before flicking the tip against her clit. She cried out and bucked as he sucked at her, teased her. He worked her sensitive button until she quivered and panted, “Fuck me. Philip. Please.”

  His sweet killer, begging?

  Rather than stop, he kept tonguing her, increasing her pleasure until she came, a low moan rolling out of her as her body clenched and shook.

  And still, he kept licking. Stroking. Working her until she began to moan and rock again. Only then did he stand and thrust into her, his cock more than ready to fill her sex. It was decadently blissful, her channel still vibrating with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Fisting him tightly. He dug his fingers into her flesh as he began to move inside that tight sheath. Pushing and pulling against the suction. His thick shaft stretched her. Pummeled her g-spot until she was gasping and holding on to the wall for dear life.

  There was no breath for words. Nothing but the decadent sensation of his prick sliding in and out, her pussy gripping him tightly, increasing the pleasure. As his pace quickened, he was soon slapping in and out of h
er, the rigid length of his cock filling her. She was on the edge of coming again, he could feel it. She just needed a little push.

  He reached around and fondled her clit, pinching it. She bucked. Her sex clamped down, and she cried out, “Fuck me, yes!” as her second orgasm hit hard.

  “Yes, yes,” he hissed along with her as he kept thrusting until his own orgasm hit, a hot blast that left him limp, shuddering, and wrapped around her, whispering, “I think I fucking love you.”

  For a second, she stiffened. Softened. Then she was Carla. “Why did you have to go and say that?”

  “Because you’re wicked and amazing.”

  “I’m a killer mom who drives a minivan.”

  “Like I said, amazing.” He flipped her around so she faced him. “I don’t expect you to say it back. Just expressing what I feel.”

  “Love is weak?” she said, the words sounding more question than statement.

  “Then it’s a good thing you’re around to protect me.”

  “Idiot. Kiss me again.” He kissed her and made love to her, and while she might not be able to spit out the words, she showed her affection in the way she kept him in her bed that night and only kicked him out at dawn.

  Whispering, “See you later, boyfriend.”

  Epilogue

  A few weeks later…

  The move from her townhouse to Pasadena passed without a hitch. Mother made most of the arrangements. The Carla Baker that used to work at an insurance agency disappeared. Nico’s records were erased. While Pedro might be dead—and his body still yet to be found—there was no point taking any chances.

  Carlotta started over, and while she didn’t take Luiz’s last name, she compromised and went back to her mother’s maiden one.

  Nico made the move without protest. He was already enrolled in the academy and loving his new life. Not only had he made some friends, he also thrived under the bond forming between him and Luiz.

  The relationship between Carla and Luiz was a bit more cautious and strained. He kept wanting to spoil her. She didn’t trust it and kept refusing gifts. Except for one.

  The coach house on her grandfather’s estate was a compromise. It gave her the space she needed, while at the same time, making him feel better about having his only family nearby.

 

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