by Kira Adams
Never Trust A Bad Boy
A Never Trust Novel
Kira Adams
Never Trust a Bad Boy
By Kira Adams
https://www.kiraadamsauthor.com/
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http://www.wattpad.com/user/xKiraAdamsx
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7179367.Kira_Adams
http://www.amazon.com/Kira-Adams/e/B00KQZ5838
© 2019 Krista Pakseresht. All Rights Reserved.
Cover design by Alora Kate, Stock Photo from Deposit Photos
Editing by Joanne LaRe Thompson
Formatting by Affordable Formatting
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
“Don’t forget, if you’re not doing something you love, you’re not really living.”
–Kira Adams
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by Kira Adams
Bo
Her perky tits are mocking me, being so close, yet covered up.
“What’s your deal?” I ask, giving her conservative outfit the once over. “What’s up with these clothes?”
She looks offended, and for a moment, I regret being an asshole. Behind that exotic dark hair and eyes is desperation and lack of confidence. That moment passes quickly as Katerina stares back at me with a straight face. “I started a new job, you dick.” Her accent was the first thing that drew me in: Russian with hints of American mixed in. Her appearance doesn’t suck either. She’s short, around 5’4”, with a tight ass. She’s the perfect height for the extracurricular activities we participate in together. I am intrigued by the small gap between her two front teeth.
People have such varying opinions when it comes to gaps. Some believe it’s beautiful and to never change it and some believe anything can be fixed with the right amount of money. I’m of the former belief. I think it gives her character; makes her unique.
“New job, huh? You finally got tired of the salon?” She’s been working at the same nail salon since I met her three years ago.
She gawks back at me, her blue eyes appearing black. “You really don’t listen to anything I say, do you?”
“What are you talking about?” It’s easier to respond to a question with a question if you want to avoid the answer. I’ve been skilled in this deflection technique since I was a young kid.
Hand to God, everything she says goes in one ear and out the other. Sure, I’m an expert at responding at the appropriate times with correct answers, but sex is really the only thing I want from Katerina.
If I told her to strip naked right now, she’d do it without blinking; she’s that dick-whipped. And of course it kills her that I’m not hers and hers alone, but I don’t let people tie me down. I’ve been alone my whole life and I intend to stay that way. Keeping feelings out of the equation seems like the best route to take.
It’s hard to say if I’ve always been like this, but I’d be lying if I told you my upbringing didn’t directly affect my beliefs. The foster system controlled me until I turned eighteen when a family miraculously adopted me. They were a family of five, with children ranging in ages from three to sixteen, so they weren’t worried that I was legally an adult. Their mission was to find someone who needed love in their life and to give it to them, so it was no coincidence they chose me.
The couple who adopted me was in their sixties and had already lived a full life before I came along. My adoptive mother, Angela, got sick with throat cancer a few years after I joined the family. As tough as she was, her body couldn’t hold up against the aggressive disease and she passed away when I was twenty-one. I’m thankful for the few short years I had with her. My adoptive father, Fred, was eventually put into an elderly care facility when his dementia became too much.
Ammo, my best friend, has been in my life since middle school. I crashed into his world literally and figuratively speaking when someone tripped me at lunch. My tray of food went flying, splattering everywhere. Beyond embarrassed, I was raging inside. Ammo, or rather Kevin, at the time, was the only person to come to my rescue. He punched the perpetrator in the face, helped me up, and the rest was history.
In retrospect, he wasn’t the best influence for me, but he was all I had. For once in my life, someone cared about me, so it wasn’t a surprise that I became blindly loyal to him. We ran amok when we were younger, getting into loads of trouble – fighting, stealing, skipping school, you name it. It only brought us closer together, making our bond unbreakable.
We began stealing cars when we were thirteen, taking them for joyrides or selling them in nearby cities. By eighteen, we upgraded to plotting our first bank robbery. We researched in the library for hours on end, watched every bank robbery movie we could get our hands on, and daydreamed about when we’d finally put that plan into action.
“Seriously?” Katerina huffs. “I’m just going to go.”
“What? Why?” Hopping off the bed, I intercept her, blocking her path.
“You’ve been lost in the sauce for the last ten minutes and I have shit to do.” Me too, Princess, but first I’m trying to do you.
“Come on, Kat, I’m sorry.” Time is fleeting, and this is my last chance for pleasure before the big hit tomorrow. This one is the riskiest by far, making me horny. Danger always turns me on.
My arms wrap around her, keeping her close. My hands travel down her body while my lips explore her neck. She plays hard to get like usual, but when I feel how soaking wet she is, I know she isn’t going anywhere. Picking her up over my shoulder, I toss her onto the bed. This may be the last time my dick gets to pound anything, so I plan to make it count.
“What are you doing here?” Carly asks with a surprised look plastered on her face. She is barely decent in a tiny, white tank top and short shorts; her bloodshot eyes tell me she had a long night. Her blonde hair looks like a bird’s nest.
“It’s good to see you too, little sis.” Brushing past her, I let myself into her dorm room. “Where’s the roomie?”
She closes the door behind me and heads toward the fridge. “You want anything? Beer? Water?”
“What ya got?”
Her head swivels between the open door and me. “Coors.”
“Sure.” I shrug. I’m more of a Heineken guy myself, but Coors will do.
She tosses me the beer once she is in close enough range and then plops down on the couch beside me. “So, what brings you here?”
“What? A big brother can’t visit his little sister every once in a while?” Although we have other siblings, Carly is the youngest and therefore my responsibility.
She rolls her eyes as she opens a water bottle and takes a drink from it.
“Have you
seen Dad recently?” Our father has been in a facility that specializes in dementia, for the past year and a half. Unfortunately, the financial burden has fallen on my shoulders, along with Carly’s tuition. As the man of the family, it only felt right to take over these responsibilities when the time came.
Carly shakes her head. “I don’t know how you do it. It’s too hard, Bo. He doesn’t even recognize me anymore.”
The dementia was unexpected and aggressive, taking him over in the course of a year. None of us saw it coming. None of us were prepared.
“Okay. Okay. But promise me that you will make it out to visit him in the next two weeks. He’s not doing so well and we don’t know how much time we have left. You don’t want to regret missing opportunities to spend time with him before it’s too late.” Although he isn’t of blood relation, this family took me in and fully embraced me from day one. It was hard not to fall in love with them.
Pulling out a wad of bills from my pocket, I hand them to Carly.
“What is this for?” she asks, eyeing the thick stack.
“I’m not sure when I’m going to be able to visit again, so I just want to make sure you are okay. You can get food, clothes, whatever you need.”
Carly’s eyes lower. “You’re going on another hit.” The disdain in her voice is apparent.
“Listen, you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m doing what I need to do.”
“Bo,” she drones. “You don’t have to do this. What if something goes wrong? Who is going to take care of Dad?” Carly has never been a fan of my lifestyle choices, but reaping the fruits of my labor, she’s never complained.
“I know you’re scared. Honestly, sometimes I am, too.”
She exhales loudly, frustrated. “Then why do it? You’re so smart. You’re the smartest person I know. You can do anything…”
She’s right. When we started down this reckless path, there was an underlying desperation. We didn’t want to work for ‘the man’. We wanted to be able to grow our wealth fast and quick, but it was never supposed to be a permanent lifestyle. In a perfect world, we wouldn’t have to worry about money or doing anything we aren’t passionate about.
“Don’t do this, please.” She is pleading with me and part of me wants to just say fuck it and call the whole thing off, but I can’t. A lot of people are counting on this, on me.
“Listen, after tomorrow, I’ll consider moving on to something new. But I’m already committed and I can’t back out. Does that work for you? I think it’s a pretty fucking good compromise.”
Carly sighs, taking a drink of her water. “Fine. But Bo, it’s okay not to be the hero all the time. Sometimes the hero needs to be saved.”
I’m far from a hero, but she has a point.
“So, how are we looking for tomorrow?” Money asks, shuffling the deck of cards. The dealer chip sits before him. His light brown hair is slicked back to perfection and his suit immaculate. Italian to the core, he’s always been our bankroll. We knew Stefano in high school, but he didn’t come into the picture until we really began the first plotting session. His family was well off so we knew he was used to being around money. We first brought the idea up to him when we were all drinking at a dive bar, about five years ago. Originally, he thought we were just playing with him. It took a long time to get him to come around and see our vision.
As he deals out the river, we all peek at the cards in our hands. “Good, we did two drive-bys today, and are confident Eduardo will not be there,” Wheels answers. It was a surprise to everyone when Money and Wheels got together. The well put together Italian Stallion and the unpredictable wild child couldn’t be more different. While he’s mostly all talk and some bite, she’s hardcore. Out of all of us, she’s the most prepared for the shit to hit the fan. That’s why we recruited Trinity a couple of years ago to be our driver. She can drive anything and it’s sexy as fuck. When she was fifteen, she was arrested for being out past curfew. The cop pulled over another driver for running a red light when she was in the back of his cruiser and the rest is history. She managed to get herself into the front seat, drive away, and never looked back. There have been so many times we have been chased by the cops, and she just barely evades them. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to drive.
“How many people did you see?” I ask. Even with Eduardo being away from his home, he always keeps it heavily guarded. Every time we have scouted the mansion, there have been no less than eight guards on rotation throughout the property. Who knows how many are inside the walls?
Eduardo has a daughter who graduated from high school, and there have only been rare sightings of her. Most believe he sent her off to some kind of boarding school. His wife, Maria, died mysteriously a few years ago and the police are still investigating her death.
“Six, but there may be more inside,” she answers.
Our contact for the hit, Tito, says Eduardo deserves this. Apart from the drug business he runs out of his home, he also has a lucrative escort business. Word on the street is the women are not treated very well. Slave is a word thrown around a lot regarding the handling of the female escorts. When we asked what he’ll do after the hit and how he will ensure Eduardo will never find out it was him, he wasn’t worried.
“Let’s go over the details one more time,” Ammo says, clapping his hands together. “The safe is in his bedroom, which is on the third floor, correct?”
I nod.
“We are planning on getting a helicopter directly above that location and blowing a hole for access, right?”
I analyze his every move: his shifty eyes, his wringing hands. “Dude, we’ve been through this ten times over. What’s your deal? Trinity has her contact for the bird, and we know where to meet afterward if we miss our ride.”
He still looks unsure which doesn’t make me feel any better. “Come on, Kevin.” Calling him by his first name usually snaps him out of whatever funk he’s in. “We got this. Stefano is going to get the camera footage destroyed and we will be in and out and rich. That’s what we all want, right?”
“If any of the guards see our faces, we’re screwed. They can’t see us. If they do, we can’t leave any stones unturned. Understood?” His uneasiness has not faded. “This isn’t like the other hits we’ve done. This is on our home turf, so we have the most to lose from this one. What if one of us is shot, or worse, killed? Do we have an exit strategy?”
“Of course, we do! Who do you think I am? And you’re absolutely right, but after this, we can be done. Finished. How many years have we been looking over our shoulders? Scared of what skeletons might pop up next. Fold.” Throwing my cards in, I cross my arms in front of my chest. “After this, I’m retiring.”
Money looks at me, his eyes wide with worry. “What?” His concern isn’t lost on me. Far too many people count on what we bring back from these jobs. While what we do isn’t okay by any means, it still makes us feel a little less evil when we donate it to the people and causes that really need it.
“I’m serious. After this, I’m out. I just want to live a simple life of booze, sex, and rock and roll.” Bank robber to sound engineer seems like a good transition. Plus, I made a promise to Carly, and I intend to keep it.
“Just because he’s retiring doesn’t mean we have to,” Wheels states.
“Yeah, but he’s the brains. All of his planning is why we have been able to repeatedly do this and get away with it,” Ammo points out. “We would have never known anything about ‘cleaning’ the money if it weren’t for him.”
“Potato; po-tah-to – we could have researched into it.” Wheels doesn’t let anyone tell her what to do. They’ll be fine without me.
“I think you’re making a big mistake.” Money tosses his cards on the table, folding. “What we do here is important, and you’re a big part of that. When something works, you don’t change it.”
He’s right, but I want to live a normal life again. Ever since we started this dangerous lifestyle, we have had to make so many shady co
nnections to be able to wash the money. We’ve filtered it through strip clubs, drug and human trafficking, and more. The problem is now everyone knows who we are. I need a chance to disappear without repercussions.
“We don’t know what to expect from tomorrow. I think that is where our focus needs to be. There are too many variables and not enough of us. If all eight guards are at Eduardo’s tomorrow, we are going to be outnumbered. Ammo, how are we looking on…well, ammo?” I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips. The reason we came up with these nicknames was so while on a job, we didn’t slip up and give away our identities. It’s become almost second nature to respond to our aliases, now.
He looks up from his hand. “We’re okay. We have more than enough for tomorrow’s job.” As we should, in the four robberies we have successfully done over the last three years, we have only had to shoot a couple warning shots. Steering clear from anyone getting hurt has always been important.
The problem is, this is the most dangerous job we have ever agreed to. We’ve had several run-ins with Eduardo over the years, as we washed our money, but nothing like this. Nothing like going into a stranger’s home and taking everything they have worked hard for. Whether he did it honestly or not, is irrelevant.
We were offered twenty million for the job to split between the four of us. Enough to retire on, drop off the face of the map, and really begin our lives. Five million dollars each sounds amazing, but staying alive is our top priority. In all the past robberies we have done, house or bank, we have never had to resort to violence. Walking onto Eduardo’s property basically guarantees there will be some kind of confrontation with how heavily guarded it is. Hopefully we have had enough practice.