BOW DOWN: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Barone Crime Family)

by B. B. Hamel

  Jared was still in a gun battle with Castillo down the hall. He was eerily silent, while Castillo was calling out insults and curses the entire time. Jeff tore off the rest of his tape and went over to my mom, ripping off hers. They were free in a matter of a minute or two.

  “Camden,” she yelled out.

  I glanced back at them and nodded. “I’m here. We’re leaving soon.”

  They didn’t look much worse for wear. Maybe a bit thin, definitely exhausted, but they hadn’t been tortured at least. The cartel probably figured they were worth more in one piece. I briefly wondered if they had planned on ransoming them off, or if they were just going to be killed. It didn’t matter anymore, though.

  “Jared,” I yelled out. “I got my parents.”

  He didn’t respond. The only sound was the scream of bullets.

  “Fuck,” I said. “We’re pinned down.”

  Jeff was suddenly at my back. “Give me a gun.”

  I handed him my rifle, holding onto my pistol. He took over my position and kept firing. I tossed him two extra clips.

  “There’s a window,” he said, looking at the far end of the room.

  I was surprised at how competently Jeff held the weapon. I couldn’t tell where his bullets were landing, but all he needed to do was keep the guys upstairs from coming down.

  I followed his gaze and grinned to myself. Up at ground level was a thin window.

  “Mom, help.” I dragged a chair over and she followed me. I shot the window, shattering the glass, and used a bandana to break off any extra small shards.

  “Boost me,” I said. She put her hands out and did her best to push me up. I managed to get my head out into the freezing cold, but it was a tough squeeze.

  I felt her pushing my feet, and slowly but surely I began to slide through. The ground was cold and wet, but I was out.

  I looked back inside. “I’m going around. Tell Jeff to keep them upstairs.”

  She nodded, afraid but functioning.

  I moved around the house quickly toward the back door. For a brief moment I had the crazy idea that Lacey would mistake me for a guard and start shooting, but the night stayed quiet. Or at least as quiet as it could be with a gun battle happening inside. I kicked the door open and ran through the boiler room, coming out into the hallway.

  Castillo was busy with Jared, exchanging shots. I crept up the hallway on the side of Castillo’s door, out of his line of sight. Jared spotted me but didn’t say a word, just increased his rate of fire.

  I wasn’t thinking. I couldn’t think. I could only act. I rounded the corner, dropping down onto my side, and fired upward, straight into Castillo’s midsection.

  He stumbled back, gasping, and dropped his gun. I scrambled up and kicked it away.

  And then Jared was there.

  “Stop,” he said as I pointed the gun at Castillo. “I need him alive.”

  Castillo leered at me. “Maricon white boy,” he hissed.

  I stood down. Jared pulled a radio from his vest and pressed a button. “Extract now,” he said.

  “What the fuck?” I asked, staring at him. “I thought we were alone. Who are you talking to?”

  “We are. If this went wrong, they would have denied my existence.”

  “We need to help my parents.”

  “Watch him,” Jared said. He moved back out into the hall.

  I looked down at Castillo, who was laughing like mad.

  “It’s over,” I said in Spanish, training my gun on him. “You’re finished.”

  He shook his head. “Idiot. Nothing is ever over.”

  “You’re going to pay for all the shit you did.”

  “I will rise again,” he said, cackling madly.

  I hit him in the skull with the butt of my pistol. He dropped, unconscious. I checked to make sure he wasn’t dead and nodded to myself.

  Crazy piece of shit. Deserved whatever he got.

  Suddenly, the gunshots from upstairs ceased. An eerie quiet fell over the house.

  I looked up and my mom and Jeff walked into the room.

  “Camden!” Mom said, and threw her arms around me.

  I returned her hug, relief flooding through me. “I’m so sorry, Mom.”

  “I’m just happy you’re okay. They said you were dead.”

  “I’m hard to kill.”

  Jeff nodded at me but didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. I knew he’d never forgive me for this, and I didn’t blame him.

  I was just glad they were safe.

  “He dead?” Jared asked me.

  “No. Crazy though.”

  He grinned. “Yeah. Guy is batshit nuts.”

  Jared grabbed Castillo’s arms and began to drag him outside. I grabbed his legs and my parents followed, walking slowly.

  “What happened after we split up?” I asked my mom.

  “Trip was nice, honey. Until we made it to Alaska. Then the Mexican men took us, put us in those chairs, and fed us once a day. It was awful.”

  I nodded and felt relieved. That was not nearly as bad as it could have been. Frankly, it sounded like they’d had it easy. At least Trip was nice to them.

  The motherfucker.

  We made it back out into the night, and Jared continued dragging Castillo.

  “Where are we going with him?” I asked.

  Suddenly, there was a low booming in the sky. The wind whipped up and snow swirled everywhere. We all looked up as it got louder and louder. It was the unmistakable chopping sound of a helicopter, flying low.

  Jared grinned at me. “That’d be my ride,” he yelled as a black-as-night aircraft suddenly appeared over the trees and came for a landing not far away.

  The sound was tremendous, booming claps of wind torn to shreds. Jared walked over to me.

  “Here,” he yelled, giving me the key to the Jeep. “You can keep it. And the guns and the money.”

  “What?” I said.

  “The money. It’s yours. Consider it payment. And the guns, too. Sell them if you want.”

  I nodded. “What about him?”

  “Castillo? Well, let’s just say he’ll disappear.”

  “It’s over?”

  He clasped my hand. “It’s over. You were a good informant.”

  “And you’re a piece of shit.”

  “Your government thanks you, but will deny any and all involvement with all this.”

  “Understood.”

  “Good luck, Camden. Tell Lacey I said goodbye. She was a great sniper.”

  I nodded at him. He nodded at my parents, grabbed Castillo, and dragged him to the chopper. Two men in black suits jumped out and helped him load Castillo inside. They climbed back in, shut the doors, and took off.

  We stood there watching the chopper fly off. I turned and looked at Jeff and my mom.

  “So, uh, know of any cars we can steal around here?”

  Lacey had come down from the hills, her gun cradled in her arms, as soon as the chopper disappeared. Evidently, she hadn’t even fired the gun, which I was thankful for. Jared probably knew she would be safe up in the hills. Once the reunion hugs were done, we stole another car and headed out. The car ride back was quiet and tense, but at least it was warm and fast. There were only two roads, one leading away from the house and the road we had been traveling down earlier that day. Eventually, we spotted the Jeep parked right where we had left it.

  We climbed out and Lacey came around the car, throwing her arms around me. I kissed her full on the lips, and we laughed together. Her dad moved past me and hugged her too. I’d never felt so relieved, so overjoyed in my whole life, but there I was.

  Everything felt like it fell into place. Everything clicked. We were beaten, but we weren’t broken.

  We’d made it through. I had my family back. Even if they hated me, wanted to cast me away for my sins, I was okay with that. Because I’d lived today like it was my last day, and I came out the other side.

  I’d cheated death twice.

  And I was
with her, Lacey. The only girl I wanted or needed.

  As our parents climbed into the car, I threw my arms around her.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “For what?”

  “To go home.”

  “Only if you promise never to steal another car ever again.”

  I laughed. “I swear. I’m done with crime.”

  “I know. You asshole.”

  “Mad at me?”

  “Pissed. Beyond mad. But I’m too happy it’s all over to deal with that right now.”

  “I’ll make it up to you.”

  She kissed my lips. “You’re damn right you will.”

  We didn’t have to explain it to our parents. We just got in the car and started to drive.

  We drove until we were done driving and everything was okay.

  Epilogue: Lacey

  The wind whipped my hair in waves as my bike sped down the busy city street. I wove expertly between cars, loving the exhilaration that came with the slight fear. Ever since I’d gotten a taste of excitement holding that big sniper rifle, for some reason I loved to push my limits.

  A lot had changed since we’d made our way back home from Alaska. We ended up selling the Jeep and Camden managed to sell off most of the guns before we bought plane tickets back to Chicago with cash.

  Our parents weren’t talking to Camden. His mom cheated every once in a while, but my dad was pretty set on never seeing him again. That was pretty tough, I reflected, as I looked down at the engagement ring on my finger. He was really making the wedding difficult.

  It was huge, a ridiculous extravagance, but I loved it. After splitting the money with our parents, it was the first thing we bought.

  I slammed on my brakes, skidding my back tire wildly and coming to a halt. I smiled to myself as I climbed off my bike, sweat running down my back slightly, and looked up at the big brick townhouse. It was beautiful and old and in a nice neighborhood.

  And it was the second thing we bought.

  I carried my bike up the steps, unlocked the doors, and went inside. I hoisted the bike up and hung it on the racks Camden had installed in the foyer. His bike was already hanging, which meant he was more than likely home.

  We didn’t have a car, which meant we didn’t have car payments. We’d put almost every bit of the cash we had into the house, and although we still had a mortgage, it was way more manageable than it would have been otherwise.

  “How was school?” He appeared from the kitchen, drying his hands.

  My heart skipped a beat, just like it did every single time I saw him.

  “Pretty good. The usual.”

  “Kids give you any trouble today?”

  “Not at all.” I paused and smiled. “Maybe a little.”

  He laughed. “Well come in here. I’m making tacos.”

  I followed him into the kitchen and marveled at how much had changed in a year.

  I was working at a local middle school teaching physics. The starting salary was decent, and it turned out that I liked running my own classroom. I biked to and from work every day, and I was probably in the best shape of my life because of it.

  The kitchen smelled of strong spices as I dropped my bag on the island and sat down at the table. Camden put a glass of wine in front of me.

  “Smells good.”

  “Damn right it does,” he said. “Learned this in Mexico.”

  “You’re such a good cook. How was work, by the way?”

  “Classified.”

  I laughed. It was the same answer he always gave ever since he’d started working for the government. About a month after we got back and started to settle into our new lives, he got a call from a man at the Department of Defense. Apparently, someone had recommended him for a job as an analyst. Nobody would say who gave him the recommendation, but we figured it was probably Jared or someone involved with his group. I didn’t know what an analyst actually was, and Camden wasn’t at liberty to explain. He traveled a lot, but he said he loved what he did.

  And I loved him. I fucking loved him and always had. It seemed almost stupid and silly to put it that way, but it was the truth. Ever since the moment when I had thought I had lost him, really lost him for good, I knew how I felt. It was the one thing that shone through all the anger and the fear and the pain. It was what got me through.

  He leaned down and kissed my lips. “Glad you’re home,” he whispered.

  “Food first.”

  “Food before what?”

  “Food before fucking.”

  He grinned. “And how did you know that’s what I want?”

  “I can hear it in your voice.”

  “I guess I just ooze sex.”

  I touched his perfect, stubbled jaw. “You know you do.”

  He grinned again and walked away, still preparing the meal.

  “I wish you could tell me what you do,” I said after taking a sip of wine.

  “Me too, Lace, but I can’t.”

  “Come on. Give me something.”

  He paused what he was doing and looked at me. “I have a desk.”

  I blinked and then burst out laughing. “You have a desk?”

  He nodded very seriously. “Yes. A desk.”

  I couldn’t imagine Camden sitting at a desk. The guy I knew was a thief and a killer, although he was probably the best person I knew. He had done things, horrible things, difficult things, all to protect us. True, he had been protecting us from his own mistakes, but it would have been so easy for him to have simply walked away and given up. Instead, he had stayed and made things right.

  “Do you sit at it much?”

  “No.” He paused. “Okay, yes. I sit at my desk.”

  “I feel like I really know how you spend your days now.”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a desk jockey.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re lying.”

  He grinned again. “If I am, it’s for national security reasons.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  “Help me plate?”

  I got up and pulled down silverware, setting the table first and then helping him put serving portions onto our plates. The food smelled rich and looked incredible.

  We sat down at the table.

  He lifted his glass. “To you and me. And to never going on another cross-country car trip again.”

  I laughed. “Cheers to that.”

  We clinked glasses and sipped our drinks.

  “Dig in.”

  We ate in silence. I hadn’t realized how starved I was. Taking care of a class full of advanced teenagers was pretty taxing sometimes. I relished the rich, delicious food. Camden wasn’t home every single day, but he cooked most nights when he was. He said he learned down in Mexico, mostly because he was bored and living alone.

  We finished dinner and our drinks, chatting idly about our days. I cleaned the dishes and he dried, and when all of that was done we collapsed onto the couch together, enjoying the quiet and the intimacy of the evening.

  I loved living in Chicago. Though I always imagined I’d work at some big fancy research lab at a big university one day, I was really enjoying teaching. I was glad Camden had a real job and wasn’t using his skills to keep stealing cars, although I couldn’t imagine that was something he ever wanted to do again. Not after what had happened.

  “Now what?” I asked him.

  He pressed his body against mine. “Now what do you think?”

  I kissed his neck. “Come on. Really.”

  “I don’t know. We don’t need to do anything if you want to stay in.”

  I nodded, breathing in his smell. I missed him horribly when he was away, and so I took every chance I could to drink him in when he was home.

  “Okay. Let’s do that.”

  “Sounds good.” He kissed me fully and deeply. I felt like I was spinning out of control with happiness as I wrapped my arms around him, embracing him fully.

  “I love you, you know that?” he said after a minute.


  “I know. I love you too.”

  He kissed my neck. “I fucking worship you.”

  “You better.”

  He smirked at me. “Now give me what I want.”

  I felt a thrill run through my body.

  “Whatever you say, future husband.”

  I knew I’d do whatever he wanted me to do.

  I wanted to give him everything, every piece of me, every inch I had to give.

  He had changed slowly ever since we’d moved to the city. He had changed back into the man I knew. The darkness was still there, but it was buried deep inside him. It was like he was coming back to himself.

  And I wanted to be there for him. Every single step of the way.

  I was his. I was always his.

  And that was more than enough for me.

  Packing Heat

  Prologue: Cassidy

  Good girls don’t go looking for mobsters.

  They don’t go to mob bars and they definitely don’t flirt with bad guys. Good girls don’t go home with strange men.

  Maybe I wasn’t good. I always thought I was. I grew up in Ohio, I had a normal childhood, and I never got in trouble. I became a journalist because I wanted to help the world. I was working hard on a story that I thought could help break human trafficking wide open and maybe save a lot of lives.

  Instead, I found him. Cocky, tall, and so damn handsome, I felt instantly afraid of how badly I wanted him to drag me into a dark corner and never let me go.

  That was the kind of man he was. He was more likely to pick me up and drag me off than he was to smile and politely say hello. I was afraid of him, but there was something else beneath that fear that made me sit down next to him and order a drink.

  It was just one drink, I told myself. I was out researching a story, trying to find out about human trafficking in Chicago.

  Just one drink turned into so much more.

  I’d never forget his eyes as he pressed me against the wall behind the bar.

  I’d never forget his words.

  “You’re going to be mine tonight, whether you know it yet or not. I already have you begging. I’ll have you doing so much worse.”

  That cocky bastard. I never wanted this to happen. I was supposed to be a journalist, and journalists weren’t supposed to get involved with their subjects.