Assassins & Mob Wives: Couples Retreat

by Posey Parks

  “Shut the fuck up, you maggot. No one believes a word coming out of your mouth. Your problem is praying on defenseless women. You picked the wrong group. We gave your dumb asses the opportunity to rob us.” Nadine threw her hands in the air.

  “We would’ve come for you the moment we had wheels,” Samantha growled. “You think we’re stupid enough to carry expensive bags without tracking devices embedded inside.” A devious chuckle released from her throat.

  I lifted my bloody finger. “Well, they called us stupid.”

  We burst into laughter.

  “Now that we gained the upper hand with these guys, I’m looking forward to the rest of our trip.”

  Carmen peeked around the passenger seat, flashing a wide smile.

  “Me too. This trip is bomb.”

  We agreed.

  Sydney tossed her phone in her purse. “They’ll meet us there.”

  Samantha nodded.

  Ten minutes later, Samantha drove into a warehouse parking lot. The headlights shined on a figure wearing a hazmat suit standing in our path. He clutched something under his arm. I squinted. Was that a roll of plastic?

  “Jacob,” Samantha gushed.

  I peered past Nadine. “Sydney, I thought she was mad at him.”

  She chuckled. “Girl, that grudge flew out the window the second she saw him.”

  Samantha killed the engine. He opened her door.

  The back-door handle wiggled. My heart thudded my ribcage.

  “Open up.”

  “Sebastian,” she squeaked. Sydney swung the door open.

  Dressed in a hazmat suit, he gripped her bloody face. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “How’s everyone?” Sebastian’s eyes combed over us.

  Our arms clutched our legs because of the tight space. “We’re fine,” we stated one after the other.

  Sydney stepped down and stretched her legs.

  Three lifeless men leaned against the back wall, beside Sierra and Zoey.

  “Ladies, climb out. After I beat the shit out of these guys, we’ll kill them. Our husbands will help us wipe down the van.” Samantha smiled. It wasn’t a ‘oh this view is beautiful’ smile. It was a ‘this is my favorite dessert’ expression.

  The side door slid open. Marco, Dillon, Dominic, and Brandon came into view.

  I peeked up into my husband's worried gorgeous green eyes. “Happy to see you are all right.”

  I smirked. That was all I had to give because I knew Marco. The moment his gaze darted over the asshole's tortured bodies inside, his jaw tightened and his fists clenched at his sides. The blood vessel on the side of his temple throbbed. Shit, he was ready to kill. The bastards in the vehicle belonged to us.

  He blinked twice, then reached for my friends’ hands.

  “Ladies step out onto the plastic sheet,” Marco directed.

  Zoey hesitated. “They...” She circled her finger around the van. Anger etched her pretty brown face. “...are our kills.”

  “That’s right,” we all agreed.

  I glanced to the left. Tony appeared in a hazmat suit. Pressing his shin against the guy’s knees, he leaned in, pulling Nadine into his arms.

  The guy came to and shrilled, “My knees.”

  “Fuck your knees, motherfucker,” Tony bit out.

  I heard the front passenger door open. I glance toward Carmen.

  Dominic’s angry face came into view. “Babe, are you hurt?”

  “I’ll live.”

  “I shouldn’t have left the club,” Dominic growled.

  My friends sauntered toward their husbands.

  Marco’s gloved hand gripped mine as he helped me out of the van. He stared at me briefly before his lips crushed mine.

  I peeked at the booties over his shoes. “How did you know there were bodies?”

  “Jacob told us if Samantha asked him to meet at this location, there were definitely dead bodies.”

  “Only one so far. Well we think.”

  “Who the fuck are you people?” The leader asked as he came to. He pulled himself up, leaning against the wall. We weren’t afraid they’d make a run for it. Armed assassins and mobsters surrounded them.

  Barefoot, Samantha squatted beside him. “We’re often asked that question. Short answer, we’re the good and the bad guys. Long answer my husband the Hollywood movie star and I work for the President of the United States of America. We are spies. My cousin standing back there next to her husband, they are also spies or assassins. Whatever you want to call us. My friend who beat the shit out of you is an assassin too. The other women are mob wives. Their husbands are mob bosses in New Jersey. Yeah, so when I said to you earlier, you picked the wrong women. I wasn’t shitting you. We’re trained killers. If it weren’t for the camera’s outside the club, we would have killed you guys then.”

  She raised her hand and Jacob placed latex gloves in her palm.

  “Now for the fun.” She wiggled her eyebrows and snapped the latex against her skin after she tugged them over her fingers.

  “Oh, baby, say hi. This will probably be his first and last time meeting a celebrity.”

  Jacob gripped the seat, grinned, and waved over her shoulder.

  The guy’s jaw slacked. “Jacob...Latters.”

  Jacob head darted up. “What’s the plan ladies? How will they disappear?”

  I glanced at the lake. “Roll the van into the water.”

  “Torch them.” Nadine snickered.

  “We’ll do both. Set the van on fire, then roll it off the pier.” Samantha grinned.

  “We have two transit vans like this in our warehouse. Roomy overhead and an extended cab...” Her eyes fell over the interior.

  Jacob clapped his hands. “Baby, come on. The plan sounds great, let’s move.”

  “Wait. That’s it? These women kidnapped us.”

  Laughter erupted behind me.

  Dillon stepped closer. “What’s your side of the story, ladies?”

  “Where am I?” The driver awoke. Blood trickled from his head.

  “Shut the fuck up before Samantha makes you,” I growled.

  “Jacob, the motherfucker who asked our identities, pulled my hair several times. He said he needed to keep me in line.”

  He shook his head. “Man, I’m sorry. Please don’t kill me.”

  “Oh, you did, huh?” Jacob crouched beside Samantha, stuffed a cloth in his mouth, then glanced at us. “Tell us what happened while Samantha and I take care of this asshole.”

  “No,” the guy cried around the gag.

  We each told our husbands what happened upon leaving the club.

  Marco squinted. “He pushed you to the ground and I’m supposed to stand here and do nothing. Fuck that.” He reached inside the van, grabbing his foot.

  “You think it’s ok to abuse women, you slimy piece of shit.” Pulling a knife from his holster, he slid the knife across his ankle bone.

  “Ah,” he screamed around the gag.

  His body convulsed.

  Samantha and Jacob slammed their knives into his chest until his head fell to the side, taking his last breath.

  “Two down.” Samantha glared around the van. “Four to go. All right, ladies grab a pair of gloves. Let’s take our frustrations out on these assholes.”

  She slammed her bloody finger into Jacob’s chest. “Oh, and I haven’t forgotten we need to talk.”

  Marco placed a pair of gloves in my hand.

  “Oh yeah, now you want to talk? You hung up on me last night.”

  “My battery died.”

  He inched closer over the dead body. “You will pay for last night, Samantha.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Guys, chill,” Sydney interjected. “We have an interminable day ahead of us tomorrow. I want a bath.”

  “Me too,” I groaned.

  Zoey stepped around Dillon. “Jacob, out.” Her thumb darted over her shoulder.

  He scowled through the plastic window. “
I don’t know how the rest of the guys feel, but...”

  He pointed toward Samantha. “...you are coming back to the penthouse.”

  I glared over my shoulder at Marco. “You told me earlier you weren’t doing anything today.”

  He caressed my hips. “I wanted to be near you,” Marco whispered against my lips.

  Shit, what a low blow. No need for anger after that confession?

  “We’ll let you ladies get to work.” Marco walked toward the hood of one of the Suburbans.

  “I want to slit their throats,” Dillon growled.

  “You all know what I want to do. Cut these bastards into tiny pieces. They wanted to rape and kill our women.” Dominic lunged forward. Carmen pressed her palms against his chest.

  “Babe, this is our trip and our fight.” Carmen met my gazes briefly, then her eyes bore into Dominic’s.

  “If you guys weren’t here, we would’ve handled the situation on our own. We’re grateful our husbands are here, but for emotional support only.”

  “We love you guys,” Sierra kissed Dillon’s lips.

  “I love you too,” he grunted. “We’ll fall back.”

  The girls and I flexed our fingers and cracked our necks, then joined Samantha.

  The petty thieves’ mouths shivered. All the begging in the world couldn’t stop their lives from ending tonight.

  “We need more room to work.” Samantha peeked over her shoulder. “Thankfully Jacob propped the big guy up on the other side. Emoni, can you help me place this guy in the passenger seat?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “We’ll let the guys hoist big fella up and throw him behind the steering wheel.”

  I wrapped my arms around the other guy’s upper body and pulled him between the seats. Together we tossed him into the passenger seat. I straightened his arms and legs. Head slumped to the side, he appeared asleep. The jagged edges and puncture wounds in his bloody shirt and jeans made his death real. A smile curled my lips.

  “I shouldn’t smile that the scum is dead. Should I?”

  Sierra leaned over the seat.

  “He wanted to rape us.”

  “We wouldn’t have harmed you.” I heard in the distance.

  Sierra and I crawled closer to the guy near the back door.

  “You should have grown a back bone and told him you weren’t down for his bullshit.” Nadine jabbed her fist against his busted kneecap.

  “You all will say anything to get out of this shit.” Sydney sat on the back ledge.

  “Thought the score was easy, huh?” Carmen glared between them.

  The guy in the middle shook his head.

  My mouth gaped.

  His eyes lowered as he clutched his dark, thick hair. “We planned to split the money we made from selling the purses. It would have been our last job,” he choked out.

  My eyes narrowed. “Earn your own way. Not steal from others.”

  “Is that what you ladies are doing? Earning your way? How can you if your husbands are mobsters?”

  Nadine leaned in. “Our husbands are business men...”

  Sierra raised her hand, cutting her off. “Our husbands don’t rob and rape women. You bastards planned to take us away from our families.” Her voice reached an unknown optimum as her knife came down, piercing his thigh.

  “Ah,” he wailed.

  “There’s nothing we can say to get out of this situation,” the guy across from me managed between ragged breaths.

  Guess Zoey damaged his lungs during her stabbing frenzy.

  Samantha laughed. “There isn’t. I love a good kill. This isn’t one of my best. I didn’t bring my tools to the club. There, back on the bus. We’ll make do with our husbands’ knives.” She twirled the knife between her fingers. It twinkled as a nearby streetlamp hit the blade. Her brow lowered.

  “This is for interrupting my fucking vacation.” She thrusted the blade into his chest.

  It was an all-out free for all. Our arms moved at the speed of light as our knives penetrated their skin at different origins of their bodies.

  Chests heaving, we stumbled backward one after the other.

  We leaned against the wall, staring at our handy work. Their flesh was riddled with puncture holes. Blood pooled beneath us.

  “Jacob, we’re ready for a wipe down.”

  Nadine sighed. “That was therapeutic.

  Threading our arms together, we laughed.

  “It sure was.” I scooted to the door.

  “Let’s burn this bitch, so we can take long showers before the sun rises,” Zoey wriggled her eyebrows.

  “I’ll grab the gasoline.” Carmen hopped out the van.

  “Samantha, can we take a quick shower here to rinse off the blood?”

  “Syd, yeah we can. There’s an enormous shower inside Jacob and I use after missions.”

  Sierra turned her head to the sky, “A nice firm mattress is calling my name.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Tony drove the truck near the end of the pier. He sat the big guy behind the steering wheel.

  Carmen and Zoey doused the van in gasoline.

  “Are we ready to do this?” I peered at the girls.

  “Ready,” they grinned.

  Sydney placed a brick on the accelerator, then closed the door.

  I tossed the match on the roof. Orange flames rose as the van rolled toward the water.

  Hands chained together, we stood side by side as the truck exploded over the lake. We stumbled backward from the blast.

  “What a fucking day. I could eat a feast right about now.” Samantha rubbed her stomach.

  “Now that you mention it, I’m famished.” I chuckled.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  EMONI

  MOB WIFE

  WE WORE OUR HUSBANDS' oversized dress shirts back to the penthouse. My husband’s bare chest under his suit jacket was fucking sexy. My fingers would’ve gravitated to his pecs if we weren’t riding with our friends.

  Our suitcases were waiting for us inside. Felt good to take a bath, then change into comfy clothes for a few hours.

  Sebastian, Dominic, and Jacob had their own rooms. Marco and Dillon shared a room. If there’d be any hooking up, it would happen in the living room or bathroom. Maybe in the morning before we hit the road.

  “How are you doing?” Marco wrapped his arms around me.

  I turned to face him, digging my head into the pillow. Our eyes locked.

  My side felt like someone constantly plunged a knife into my liver. The bath helped some.

  “Sore, wish you could give me a proper rub down. Too bad our friends are in the next bed over.”

  The bordering hall floor lights illuminated through the ajar door. His teeth clenched his lower lip. “Starting this weekend, you’ll get all the proper rub downs. I can wait...” His delicious lips pressed against my chin, cheek, and nose. “...to make love to my beautiful wife.”

  My nipples hardened between us. The girls and I made a pack. We wouldn’t have sex with our husbands until this weekend.

  A throbbing pain shot through my skull. Careful not to wince, I carried on.

  “Can’t believe you lied about your spur-of-the-moment trip.”

  “When Tony said he was flying to Chicago, I told him I was coming too. We aren’t traveling back home until we’re all together.”

  I winced. “What?” I gripped my head.

  Marco sat up and lightly clutched my head. “Is it pain from the fall?” Panic laced his voice.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Emoni, you can’t hide things like this from me. The boys and I. Mainly me would be lost without you. I’ll wake Nadine. She’ll give us a prognosis.”

  “What’s wrong?” Sierra’s groggy voice carried over the room.

  Dillon sat up and yawned, tossing his legs over the side of the bed.

  “Emoni’s suffering from shooting head pains because that asshole threw her to the ground.” His fingers threaded his shiny dark locks.

&
nbsp; “Marco, wake Brandon instead. He’s a trauma and neuro surgeon.”

  He stretched his finger toward me. “I’ll be right back.” Marco scurried out of the bedroom, wearing only his PJ pants.

  Sierra rushed over and sat beside me. “Hopefully he’ll give you something for the pain.”

  “Hey, Emoni.” Brandon burst through the door, flipping on the light.

  “Sierra, can you turn on the lamp too?”

  “Sure.” She pressed the switch on the light and sat on the bed beside Dillon.

  Before I knew it all of our friends were crowding around the bed. Thank goodness I was decent.

  Brandon examined me.

  “You said the room isn’t spinning and you aren’t nauseas?”

  “Right.”

  “But you have shooting pain in your head?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll patch up the gash you head under your hair and give you two aspirins.”

  I cringed inside. Holding that important information from Marco wasn’t good.

  “In the morning I will perform a few more tests. If you’re clear, you’ll be on your way and I will check on you in the next city.”

  “What?” Carmen’s arms crossed her chest.

  He turned to our friends. “Yeah, Zoey hit her head a few times last night. I’m monitoring her.”

  The girls whispered amongst each other. Zoey wasn’t with the ladies. Guess she was asleep.

  Brandon stood. “Relax. We want you all to enjoy yourselves. We also want to ensure we see each other this weekend. Think of it this way. You’ll have your own private doctor. You don’t have to sit in a waiting room. If I need to run an MRI, we’ll stop by the hospital and get it done. I don’t think that’s the case here, though. Emoni and Zoey need to rest. Actually, all of you ladies need to rest.” He pointed around the room.

  “I want to run a health check on all the AMW’s.” He grinned. Amused by the letters.

  “What?” Sydney scowled.

  “Zoey, rambled the letters over and over as she dozed off. I asked her what the letters stood for, she said assassins and mob wives.” He stretched his hands.

  The girls chuckled.

  “Yeah, we yelled that at the club last night.” Nadine smirked.

  “Oh, and Dr. Magarelli, in the morning, I’ll examine you too.”