Never Trust a Bad Boy (The Never Trust Series)

by Kira Adams

  This is the most money we will have made from a single hit. All in all, before this one, we each had only profited about $275,000, which helped, but was more of a Band-Aid then overall fix. This money will ensure that we can put this life and dangerous lifestyle behind us for good. When you’re younger, the idea of robbing banks or houses is glamorous and exciting, but when you are older and wiser, the harsh realities begin to set in. It’s my fault we are all so invested, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be the catalyst for change.

  Mikhaela

  There’s a point in your life when you wake up and realize things don’t have to be the way they are. You don’t have to settle for actions or decisions that don’t reflect your internal beliefs.

  My father is a bad man. Not just in general, more like the bad man. For as long as I can remember, he’s terrified the absolute shit out of me. Commanding respect wherever he goes, one wrong move and he’ll end you. We aren’t related by blood, but after he adopted me when I was eighteen months old, I got sucked into his world and have been stuck in its rotation ever since.

  They say the adoption softened him. Before me, murder and violence were expected among the walls of his large mansion, but after, his protective nature kicked in. He sheltered me from the horrors of his industry. That doesn’t mean my childhood was easy, in fact it was far from it. Friends were not a luxury I was allotted, growing up, so my dolls learned all my secrets and were the only things I could trust. Eventually, as I grew out of toys, journaling became part of what helped me get through each day.

  Eduardo is all about tough love. As a kid, if I wet the bed it was be met with a rough spanking until my butt was red and raw. As I aged, the punishments became increasingly more physical. Some beatings would result in the letters on my father’s belt being temporarily branded on me. As much as I despise him for what he has done to me, it has also helped mold me into the person I am today: cold and uncaring.

  His treatment of me is part of the reason I’ve decided to get out. I’ve been planning my escape for over a year now, but I can’t be hasty because one wrong move can equal death. If I go against him, he won’t care that I’ve been his “daughter” for the past eighteen years. Everything will go up in flames.

  Maria, his wife, was my one cheerleader, the one person in my corner. She didn’t always stand up to him, but she tried. Even though she wasn’t my biological mother, she was the only mother I’ve ever known. A few years ago, she helped me sneak out for my fifteenth birthday to get my ears pierced. Eduardo would have never approved, but Maria did her best to let me experience a tiny fraction of freedom.

  When we returned home that night, he was waiting for us. He beat me so bad his name was branded on my butt cheeks. Maria tried to stop him, but he knocked her out cold. I never saw her again after that. After asking and searching for answers for months and only finding dead ends, my gut told me he did something to her. Not long after, her body turned up. Water in her lungs implied she drowned, but there were also defensive wounds on her body, classifying her death as a homicide. The police have been investigating her death ever since. I use the word ‘investigating’ lightly because considering Eduardo’s power, there is no way in hell they will ever tie him to it. The police interviewed him on multiple occasions, even interviewing me, but didn’t have enough evidence to pin it on him or anyone in his circle, yet. They probably never will.

  After that, my walls grew thicker. A father wouldn’t do the things he did to me, or Maria. A dad would do anything to protect his daughter, not to put them in harm’s way. His form of love is toxic and centered on abuse.

  His right-hand man, Tito, has a soft spot for me and is like the uncle I never had. He’s been around since Barbie Dolls and Easy Bake Ovens were my favorite toys. He’s watched me grow up from a cute, naïve, little girl to the cognizant woman standing here today.

  His daughter was six years old when she developed a rare form of leukemia and the disease aggressively took her life. He was never the same after that.

  Knowing that I’ve been cooped up behind these thick walls my entire life, he wants me to be able to experience normality, and the type of life his daughter wasn’t allowed.

  He’s been feeding me information that will help in my eventual escape. Like the fact that my father has a meeting in town this morning and likely won’t be back until late afternoon. He’s encouraged me to get my things and go while he’s out. We both know that these opportunities are few and far between.

  Tito would never fully turn on my father, but he also can’t stand to see how he’s been treating me for the past seventeen years. If he had it his way, my father would never lay a finger on me. Believing that there might be a world out there that exists without his everyday violence is almost like believing a pink elephant exists.

  There’s not much time and no going back after today. Grabbing only the items I can’t do without, I shove them into a large duffel bag. My entire life is going to be reduced to one small piece of luggage, so I need to make it count.

  Before realizing it, the sun begins to set, and my time is up. Hurriedly rushing through my room, my feet can’t move fast enough. If he catches me, game over. The alarm on my phone won’t stop beeping, but there is no time to stop. Shuffling down the stairs, the blood rushes through my body when a loud bang echoes from the floor below me.

  Time’s up.

  Running in the opposite direction, my hope is that he will take his usual route upstairs and I can slip out the back way before he notices I’m gone. My car engine will make too much noise, so I am going to have to put it into neutral and coast a little way before turning it on.

  My body collides with a hard, tall wall of flesh and my skin crawls. Looking up, I expect to see one of my father’s men, but instead I see a young man closer to my age. He has dark hair, a full beard, and alluring chocolate eyes. It’s apparent he isn’t supposed to be here when he shoves me against a wall with a knife to my throat.

  “Who are you?” I ask curiously. My father has so many enemies, it’s not surprising someone would try to pull something, but Eduardo is also the most ruthless person I know. This guy will be dead shortly; he’s already living on borrowed time.

  The unwelcomed guest looks agitated that his knife isn’t rendering me immobile. Honestly, I just wish he’d get it over with. Anything would be better than another day in this shit hole. He presses the knife deeper into my skin, this time drawing blood. The trickle rolls down my neck, sticky and wet.

  “Okay, honestly – either get it over with or let me go. You’ve already shitted on my entire day, so I’d say you won this round fair and square.”

  Again, the handsome intruder looks frustrated with the situation at hand. Either he’s completely mute or very calculated in his responses. “You weren’t supposed to be home.”

  My eyes widen. “Who are you?”

  His hand strikes my face in response to my question, blurring my vision. It stings like a bitch and makes me stumble backwards. A scream escapes my throat and his elbow shoots out, knocking the air out of me. Gasping, attempting to catch my breath, my fight or flight instincts kick in. Dropping my duffel bag, my legs break out into a full-on run. The assailant turns and quickly catches up to me, grabbing the back of my shirt, taking me down roughly. He climbs on top of me, grabbing both of my arms, holding them in place.

  “Help! Help me! Tito! Carlos! Help!” His fist collides with my face again, making the room spin. Blood is gushing out of my nose. Fighting with everything in me to stay awake, my eyes close on their own accord.

  When I come to, there are voices and commotion all around me. I have a splitting headache and my nose feels like it’s been torn apart. My eyes flutter open. The restraints around my hands dig into my wrists. Attempting to scream doesn’t help because the cloth tied across my mouth muffles it. Fuck me.

  Hands lift my body into the air and then I’m tossed over a muscular shoulder. They are taking me away so they can murder me and dispose of the body whe
re no one will be able to find it…I’m positive. My father has so many enemies; it wouldn’t be a surprising outcome.

  I’m too young to die – I haven’t even properly lived yet. There’s still so much left to do, places to see, and experiences to be had. If I somehow manage to make it out of this, my goal is to live.

  They load me into the back of a van, then the vehicle speeds off. My heartbeat is louder than anything else. My father will never let them get away with this. The thought is eerily conflicting.

  If I make it out of here alive, my life is going to change. Change was already on the horizon, but this will not define me.

  The van lurches over a speedbump and I’m tossed like a hot potato. Eventually it comes to a stop along with my breathing. This is it: the moment of truth.

  The engine turns off and my heart is in my throat, suspense building with each second that passes. Soon enough, the van door opens and light spills in. The handsome stranger from earlier is looking in at me. His brows are narrowed, and he looks agitated, by his tight jawline.

  I try to plead with him but it’s muffled from the cloth across my mouth. Tears spill down my cheeks. You don’t have to do this.

  My head swivels around, inspecting the area. We are at some kind of farmhouse. There is nothing but miles of empty acreage around us.

  Grabbing me out of the van, he pulls me up to the front door and inside the house, roughly, and leads me up a staircase. Opening the first door we come to, he throws me on the bed. I think I might be sick. My thoughts begin spiraling thinking about what is to come. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a pocketknife. My heartrate begins speeding up as the blade comes closer to my body.

  Surprisingly, he uses it to cut off my binds and free my mouth. As soon as he does, a piercing scream rises from the depths of me. “Help!”

  His hand roughly slams over my lips, silencing me. “No screaming.” He said no screaming, but nothing about biting. My teeth clench down on his tanned skin.

  He yelps, surprised, and ends up kneeing me in the stomach. I topple over to the floor.

  “You’re not a stray cat, you’re a human being. Act like one.” And with that, he retreats out the door, leaving me alone.

  Rushing to it as soon as he’s gone, my hands reach for the handle. It’s locked, but that doesn’t stop me from jiggling it until my hands and wrists hurt, and I’m worried I may break the handle and be stuck in the strange room forever.

  Turning back around my eyes assess the small space. There’s a petite, twin sized bed against the wall with a nightstand and lamp beside it. There is also an old Cathedral style, mahogany chair and tiny area rug beneath it. There are no windows in this dungeon. Besides knowing we are in the middle of nowhere at a farmhouse, they’ve done a good job of keeping me in the dark.

  A second door catches my eye and my feet lead me to it within seconds. This door is not locked. Opening it cautiously, I poke my head in before moving another inch. It’s an adjoining bathroom with a tub and shower, sink, and toilet. The space is half the size of the bedroom, and there is a small window above the toilet. It looks to be the size of a doggie door. No way in hell I could fit through there. My heart sinks. Yep, I’m definitely going to die.

  How ironic is it that my entire intention was to escape the controlling and jail-like hellhole I called home, yet now I am imprisoned in a completely different environment and way, almost making it worse. At least at the mansion, there was order. I knew what to expect. If I pushed the limits, I knew the punishment that was to follow. I don’t know anything about my captor or what his intentions are. It’s nerve wracking to be so out of control.

  I pound on the door he locked until bruises begin forming on my wrists, and my legs eventually crumple underneath me. I just have to remember that the universe works in mysterious ways and everything happens for a reason. If I am meant to live or even meant to die, it will all work out the way it’s supposed to.

  Bo

  Piece of shit, motherfucker. Kidnapping, Bo? You’re not innocent, but damn. This isn’t you.

  I’m not even sure I recognize the person staring back at me. He looks worn down with widow’s peak and wrinkles. His eyes look wild.

  What the fuck am I going to do?

  She wasn’t supposed to see my face. I’m the dumbass who left putting on my facemask until the literal last second. We knew Eduardo’s property well enough to know there wasn’t a camera directly at the back door, so I just assumed it would be possible to slip in without being seen, and then put it on. I was so wrong.

  She’s locked inside the extra bedroom, probably plotting her escape. This was so not the plan, but she saw my face, so I improvised. It was either that or kill her, and we don’t inflict harm unless there is no other option. Unfortunately, that was the dilemma today; otherwise, I never would have laid a finger on her. I’m not a woman beater. In fact, those pieces of shit make me sick. But physically throwing her off her game was my only option, given that her being there was unexpected.

  We’ve been scouting for weeks and not one sighting of her. What was he doing? Keeping her caged up all this time?

  Being a thief was a natural succession in my life, but I’m not looking for a promotion to murderer. No, thank you.

  The hard part about all of this is that I didn’t even need to go on the hit today. I’ve done enough that I could retire at age thirty-four if I wanted, but I’ve stayed in because there are so many people counting on the money and me. With each bank we hit, we help countless homeless shelters, elderly facilities, and more.

  Today’s hit did not go according to plan, in the slightest. Our first obstacle was the girl who ended up being my problem. The second obstacle was the heightened presence of guards, almost as if Eduardo had been tipped off. Just on my way into the house through the back entrance, I encountered two on my own. Thankfully neither saw my face, but it was a close call. There were struggles with getting all the guards bound and gagged before Eduardo returned. We made it by the skin of our teeth. Because of that, the chopper had to leave with Trinity and Stefano, while Kevin and I had to stay behind.

  As we were driving away from the residence, we saw his black SUV driving toward it. We had to immediately ditch our vehicle, steal a replacement, and take a bunch of back roads home. It could have only been a matter of minutes before he found out he had just been robbed.

  After splashing my face with cold water, I make my way down the hallway. Passing by the room the girl is being held in, she’s pounding on the door with all her force and screaming for help. Pausing, I stop for a moment and just listen. She must be terrified. With Eduardo as a father, there’s no question violence has played some sort of role in her life, but she seems very green to this world. Debating saying anything worries me that it might work her up even more. Instead, my feet carry me down the stairs toward the audible noise from the television.

  Trinity is on the couch flipping through channels. She looks wired out of her mind. Lately, she’s been going a little too hard with the white devil. Snorting, rubbing it on her gums, you name it, she’s doing it. Stefano says it isn’t a problem, but I can’t remember the last time she slept. “You shouldn’t have brought her here.”

  “Well, what was I supposed to do, Wheels? She saw my face.” Plopping down on the adjacent couch, I help myself to the open pizza box on the coffee table.

  She looks back at me, deadpan. “Yeah? And whose fault is that? She is Eduardo’s daughter. Do you even know what kind of shit you got us into? Before, all we had to worry about was getting the money out and living scot-free. He would have turned over every stone and never found out it was us. But you brought her here. How dumb can you be? We are all going to die.”

  Trinity is scared and it’s a rare occurrence. It could be Eduardo or it could be the drugs finally catching up with her. We all know one wrong move will get you killed. “What do you want me to do? She’s already here. She’s already seen my face. We need a new plan of action.”

&
nbsp; Her eyes roll. “You’re really something else. She doesn’t have to be our problem.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I ask.

  “Stefano knows someone who can help dispose of the problem,” she says, in a softer tone.

  “Dispose of?”

  “Yeah, get rid of her for good and make all of our lives easier,” Stefano pipes up from the kitchen.

  “Nobody is going to be disposing of anything or anyone…got it?” I snap. They don’t respond right away, but I make sure to get their agreement through an excruciatingly long stare. “If you think Eduardo would kill us just from what has transpired already, he’d kill us and our entire families if we got rid of her, if he found out.”

  “You’re not getting the point,” Trinity says, agitated. “He doesn’t have to find out. Let’s dispose of the girl and get the fuck out of dodge. We are like sitting ducks here.”

  “I am not going to repeat myself. No one is putting a finger on the girl, understand?” My tone is firm enough there shouldn’t be any question. Bringing her here was a mistake, but an even bigger mistake would be letting Stefano or Trinity handle the problem. I’m unsure what I’m going to do, but I know that I can’t keep her here much longer if I want to keep her safe.

  It’s been a couple of days since the hit, since the girl saw my face and I acted on it. Trinity has been acting sketchy, agitated. Somehow, she’s making me more suspicious that she might be in trouble with Eduardo. That maybe the drugs she’s been snorting the past few months may have come from his camp. That is worrisome. It would give them even more incentive to come by unannounced.