Misled: A Bad Boy Mafia Romantic Suspense

by Penelope Marshall

  "It's me, it's me!" she screamed, holding her hands in the air.

  Instantly, I swept the gun back over to Sloane. "What does Sal know?"

  "Nothing. You got rid of your phones. I was trying to send you a message, but you had already gotten rid of them."

  "What about his guys finding us in the alley?"

  "There was nothing I could do. Sal was standing right behind me with a gun to my head. I'm sorry, Isaiah. I really am."

  MELLISSA

  "It's okay," I said, brushing by Isaiah.

  "What?" Isaiah asked in shock.

  I looked back at him. "You heard me. It's okay. I know how scary my brother can be. It's the reason you two are in this mess in the first place."

  "No, we're in this mess because Sal killed Cane," Sloane chimed in.

  I looked up from Eric's body lying on the floor. "How'd you know that?"

  "He practically gloated about it, then said he was gonna frame you, Isaiah, but I didn't know that part."

  "What did you think was gonna happen?" Isaiah growled.

  Sloane shook his head. "I dunno what I thought was gonna happen. I was too busy worrying about my own ass, hoping to see tomorrow."

  "I'll never trust you again, Sloane." Isaiah stared at him with anger in his eyes, holding his finger on the trigger with such intent.

  I half thought he was going to kill Sloane. If not on purpose, then by accidentally pulling the trigger.

  "Sloane, what was the message you were trying to send?" I asked, peering back down at Eric's body. "I've known him since I was a teenager. He worked for my father, and after he hung himself, Eric naturally fell under Sal's hierarchy."

  "Your father hung himself?" Isaiah asked.

  I nodded. "It's not something we like to talk about—makes him seem weak, like he couldn't handle the business. And if he seemed weak, then the whole family was weak. Once you lose the fear factor, there is no more mafia. We're just another band of thugs trying to take money from hardworking people so we don't have to work."

  "Aren't you Catholic?" Sloane asked, pointing to the gold crucifix I wore around my neck.

  I grabbed onto it. "Yes, why?"

  "Don't Catholics believe suicide is a sin, and you will never get into heaven?"

  "Yes."

  "Did your father believe that?"

  "Yes, he went to Mass every Sunday without fail."

  "Then why kill himself? Was there an investigation?" Isaiah asked.

  "Yes, of course. But it was handled by the detective Sal has on his payroll. What are you trying to say?" I looked at both of them for the answer I already knew.

  "Your father was murdered."

  "By who?"

  Isaiah stepped forward and laid his hand on my shoulder. "Who had the most to gain by killing your dad?"

  "Sal, of course, but he loved my father."

  Sloane stood from his seat to unbutton his vest and shirt. "I think Sal loves money and power more than anything."

  "Do you think that's why he killed Cane?"

  "More than likely," Isaiah chimed in.

  "He's pure evil," Sloane said, pulling off his bloodied clothes, revealing his rock hard abs and chiseled chest.

  Not the usual body for a hacker. It looked like he spent half his time at the gym. Sloane caught me eyeing his muscles.

  "You like what you see?" he asked.

  Isaiah cleared his throat and stepped forward, tugging me behind him.

  "Oh, it's like that?" Sloane asked. "You work fast, my friend."

  "So, if Sal killed your dad to take over, then why kill Cane?"

  "Could Cane have found out and threatened him?" I asked.

  "But why would he want me dead?" Isaiah asked.

  "He wants you to take the fall for Mellissa's death."

  Isaiah stuck his gun back in his waistband. "What does he gain from sending me to jail?"

  Sloane began to wildly type into his keyboard. Isaiah pulled his gun out and stuck the muzzle against Sloane's neck. Sloane raised his hands in the air. "He said he wanted your head and all his dirty secrets on his desk. I think he was going to have his associates kill you while you were in jail. But since you got away, he just needed you dead."

  "What are you doing? Warning him?" Isaiah growled.

  "No, I'm pulling up the satellite dish above the neighborhood so we can have a bird's eye view. We can make sure they aren't on their way." He finished tapping on the keyboard and a satellite view of my house popped on the screen.

  "What are we looking at?" I asked, scanning the screen.

  "Looks like they're all standing around the backyard. Two pools, huh? I only have one."

  "Are you really worried about her pools right now?" Isaiah asked impatiently. "We need to regroup. It won't be long before Sal show's up again."

  "Wait, what are they doing now?" I pointed to the screen where it looked like a whole bunch of ants were exiting the house.

  "Looks like they're scrambling to get to their cars," Sloane replied.

  Just then a vibrating noise broke the silence. We all focused in on Eric's body. His phone was going off. Isaiah rifled through his clothing, finally finding the phone in his blazer pocket.

  "Five missed calls." Isaiah shook his head as he held up the phone. "All from Sal."

  "Fuck, they're on their way," Sloane jumped up from the chair and grabbed his laptop from the desk. "I have somewhere we can go. A sort of safe house I've been stashing away just in case the Feds ever came knocking for some files that I shouldn't have."

  "What kind of files?" I asked.

  "Better you don't know," he replied, typing in a few keys into his keyboard.

  "What are you doing, Sloane? Let's get the fuck outta here," Isaiah yelled, pulling on my wrist.

  "Just wiping the hard drive. Who knows if I'll ever be back, and I definitely don't need my mom seeing my browsing habits on the evening news."

  "Goddammit, Sloane," Isaiah hollered.

  "I'm coming, shit!"

  Isaiah and I were already half out the back door by the time Sloane made it out. The screeching of tires halting in the driveway stopped us in our tracks.

  "Fuck, they're already here." Isaiah held up his hand, motioning for us to stay back. "Do you have keys to your car, Sloane?"

  "No."

  "Fuck."

  "I don't need keys. It opens with a code."

  "Well, why didn't you say that?"

  "You didn't ask."

  "Goddammit, Sloane."

  "I'm gonna let you say that to me a few more times 'cause I feel bad about betraying you, but it's getting old—fast."

  "Shut the fuck up," Isaiah growled.

  "Boys, boys. Get it together. What the fuck is the plan?" I asked.

  SAFE HOUSE

  ISAIAH

  I motioned to the backyard. "We're gonna make a break for the garage and hope there's some room in the driveway for us to bust out without hitting any of their cars."

  "Bust out?" Sloane asked. "But that's my Maserati."

  "Maserati or your life?" Mellissa asked.

  He paused for a moment. "Good point."

  "Alright, ready?" I asked, listening for the front door to open, and as soon as it did, I urged, "Go, go, go."

  We ran through the backyard, following Sloane to the garage, where he had to enter a code to get through the door. I closed the door behind me and locked it. Sloane unlocked his car and hopped into the driver seat.

  "Nope, I'm driving," I said sternly. "I'm trying to make it out of this alive."

  Sloane stepped out of the car and slid in the back. "Whatever you say, man."

  I ran over and jumped in, throwing the car into drive. The adrenaline coursing through my veins made me feel invincible, which was probably the best thing, since I was going to attempt to drive through a garage door without any knowledge of what was on the other side. Slamming on the gas, the 22" Pirelli tires squealed until they caught traction on the pristinely lacquered floor.

  The cras
h and twisting of metal from the bumper smashing into the metal garage door was so loud, I just knew bullets were about to start flying. "You guys should probably put your heads down."

  As I predicted, there was a loud snap of gunfire right before a bullet took out the right side mirror. Mellissa screamed, wedging her head between her legs, shielding herself with her hands.

  "Hold on," I shouted as I held my breath and spun the wheel to the right.

  Sal's black SUV took up half the rearview mirror, following so closely behind, I could read the numbers off their license plate.

  Where's a fucking cop when you need one?

  Bullets began to hit the metal body of Sloane's flawless Maserati. I knew he was dying a little inside with every piercing projectile.

  "Where am I going, Sloane," I asked, throwing the car into neutral as I slammed on the brakes, taking a tight left-hand turn onto the main drag.

  "It's in Ridgeway Estates."

  "Do you not understand the premise of a safe house? It's supposed to be secluded and out of the way. I think your rich neighbors are gonna notice a bullet-ridden sports car with a trailing SUV shooting at it."

  "Well, then lose them," Mellissa squealed, holding tightly onto the grab handles.

  I flipped the car back into drive and pressed down on the gas pedal. "I'm not baking cookies up in this bitch."

  Sloane snickered from behind. "I think we're forgetting the whole high-speed chase thing that's happening."

  "Just sit back and tell me where to turn." I glanced up just as a bullet penetrated the back window, grazing Sloane's ear, and taking out the rear view mirror. A small shard of glass sliced through my eyebrow, narrowly missing my eye. "Ah, fuck!"

  "Did it get your eye?" Mellissa asked, resting her hand on my shoulder.

  "No, I'm fine."

  Sloane interjected. "Turn right here."

  "Fuck, you can't wait until the last minute." I pulled up the emergency brake and spun the wheel to the right. The back tires slid to the left, turning the car in the direction I needed to be in.

  Pressing on the gas, I took off, leaving the SUV unable to make the sharp turn at such a high rate of speed. Sal and his assholes continued on down the street, riding their brakes, trying their best to stop the behemoth of a vehicle dead in its tracks.

  I chuckled a little to myself, knowing how hard it would be for them to stop, turn, and still try to catch up with that caliber sports car. Slamming on the gas, I wanted to put as much concrete between them and us as I could.

  I glanced over my shoulder. "Where now, Sloane?"

  "Make it to Ridgeway Estates, then make the first right. It's the only gray, brick mansion."

  "A mansion?" Isaiah echoed.

  "On the run or not, I have a certain lifestyle I need to maintain."

  Driving straight through the opulent gates of the affluent community, I made a quick right and came face to face with the massive home which Sloane had dubbed his safe house.

  "Drive into the garage. The clicker is in the glove compartment, Mellissa," Sloane ordered.

  Mellissa pulled open the glove compartment and took out the small black garage door opener and pressed the button. Instantly, the three car metal door lifted from its resting position and opened up to reveal a black Hummer, and a silver Land Rover parked quietly next to one another. I rolled into the open spot and parked. Mellissa clicked the remote, and the door closed quietly behind us.

  Sloane got out of the back seat behind Mellissa and led us both through the main living space of the mansion and down a small set of stairs leading to a basement. The room looked like a military grade intel facility. There were several servers all in a row, one central computer with several screens hanging from the wall, and a massive air conditioner keeping the room at a cool temperature.

  "Shit, are you trying to start your own country in here?" I asked in awe.

  "You can never be too prepared," he retorted proudly.

  "I see." Mellissa trailed her fingers over the glass desktop.

  "Okay, no touching. All this is sensitive stuff." Sloane took a seat in front of the computer, attaching his laptop via a USB cable.

  Cracking his fingers, he began to type a mile a minute.

  I moved toward him. "What are you doing now?"

  "I wanna see if I can hack Sal's cell phone so we can catch him off guard somewhere."

  "And why do we wanna catch him?" Mellissa queried.

  "If we don't stop him, he's never gonna stop. We both know too much."

  "But I don't know anything," Mellissa replied.

  I twined my fingers with hers. "That you know of. But even so, he thinks you know something, and that's all that matters to him. He's a megalomaniac."

  Sloane huffed to himself as he typed. "That's an understatement." His fingers stopped moving when the computer beeped and brought up a calendar. "Here it is. Sal's calendar for this month."

  I unclasped my fingers from Mellissa's hand to inspect the events listed. "Here, he's going to the doctor tomorrow. We can catch him midway through the trip."

  "What are you going to do to him?" Mellissa's soft voice filtered from behind.

  "Exactly what he did to your father and Cane, and what he tried to do to us. He's getting his dues," I answered.

  She looked at me, then back at the calendar. "Funny how much things can change in a matter of days—even hours."

  I turned to her. "Are you gonna be okay with this?"

  "I'm gonna have to be."

  "It's for the best. You two are never gonna be able to live a normal life together with him on the loose," Sloane chimed in.

  "Together?" she echoed under her breath.

  It was now or never. I either accepted that she was my future or push her away. I'd never done anything scarier than admit my feelings for her to myself. All the years in the military hadn't prepared me for this eventuality of the heart, and I was outright scared shitless.

  I inhaled a deep breath. "Together."

  A smile fell over her face before Sloane's arrogant ass rudely chimed in, "You two are so cute."

  "Shut the fuck up, Sloane. You still aren't outta the dog house with me, by the way," I rumbled.

  He pulled open a drawer, to which I responded with pulling my gun out and aiming it at him.

  Holding his hands high in the air, he backed his chair away from the drawer. "Whoa, whoa, Isaiah."

  I cocked the hammer back. "What are you looking for, Sloane?"

  "Phones. We need phones. Look in the drawer."

  Keeping my eye stealthily locked on him, I inched toward the drawer, peering in to look for the phones. There were a set of six black smartphones all lined up in a row, with chargers and earpieces neatly lying next to the corresponding device.

  "Can I grab them now?" Sloane asked, lowering his hands from above his head.

  Mellissa walked over and rested her hand on my gun, gently pressing down to lower it. "What are we gonna use them for?"

  "I'll be in contact with you guys while you're out doing your thing. I'll be your eyes and ears from above."

  "Is there a way you can hack into Sal's phone and listen to what he is saying?" I asked.

  Sloane spun around and began to type feverishly on his keyboard. "I can try."

  His computer beeped, flashing red across all the screens.

  "What's that flashing mean?" Mellissa asked.

  "The sound is muffled. Maybe it's in his pocket or something."

  Mellissa nodded. "He always keeps his phone in his back pocket."

  "Well, that'll do it, and who even does that?" Sloane's face cringed.

  I tapped on the screen, pointing to the doctor's appointment. "Tomorrow."

  "I'll set these phones up, and prepare all the specs for the op."

  "Op?" I asked with a perked brow.

  "Can't I pretend this is some high-tech op?" He snickered.

  I couldn't help but crack a smile. "Sure, Sloane. You can pretend all you want."

  He motion
ed for me to leave. "You two get outta here. Pick any room in the house you want, there are ten of them."

  "Which one is yours?" Mellissa asked.

  "You won't miss it." He winked.

  I took her hand and led her out of the room, stopping at the hallway that led to the kitchen. "Did you wanna stop and get something to eat. You haven't really eaten."

  "I just can't. Honestly. My stomach is in knots."

  LAY WITH ME

  MELLISSA

  Following him up the curved staircase, my fingers trailed up the black, wrought iron banister, wondering what kind of house I would want if I ever settled down—with a husband.

  Did I just say that?

  I grasped tightly onto Isaiah's hand as we reached the top of the stairs and opened the first door on the left.

  He closed the door quickly. "Bathroom."

  "Good to know."

  We moved toward the next door on the right which I opened. "Well, I think I just found his room."

  "Why?"

  I pushed the door completely open, so he could see what I'd already witnessed.

  His eyes widened. "Wow."

  The room's décor was set in dark red leather and black wood-grained furniture. The walls had every whip and chain available for torture hanging neatly in rows of ten, arranged by size. The night stand boasted oils in unlabeled glass carafes, and the bedposts had attached handcuffs.

  "Is Sloane a freak?" I asked.

  "He's definitely something. Maybe his women like this sort of thing?"

  "Women like this stuff, huh?"

  "I dunno. You're a woman—you tell me."

  I pulled the door closed. "I'm not that kind of woman."

  He bit his bottom lip. "Hmm."

  "What?"

  "Nothing, let's look for our room."

  "Oh, but he said there were ten rooms. We don't have to share."

  He tugged at my hand. "I said, let's go look for our room, woman."

  His dominance cut through me and my wall. I loved that he took charge of every situation, but not in an overbearing way, but in a way which made me feel as though his whole world revolved around me—even for just a moment.

  My feet shuffled underneath as he dragged me to the next room. Through the window at the end of the hall, I noticed the sun had already begun to set. I hadn't realized how fast the day had gone by, but I guess when you're running for your life, time doesn't stand still.