by Sam Crescent
Patience didn’t want to get shot at any time soon.
She watched as Cade sat back on the sofa, and with the way she sat facing him, she got to look at him.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“For getting you into this mess. For killing your parents, for being the monster that I am.”
She bit her lip, and played with her food. She really didn’t know what to say to him, or how to respond right now.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I’m going to offer you this once.”
Patience frowned. “Offer me what?”
“A chance to get out. To get away and have a life far away from me, and for you to raise our child without being expected to join this life.”
Tears filled her eyes. “You want me to leave?”
“No. Not at all. I want you to have a life that you’re going to love, and that you won’t look at me one day, and be totally filled with regret. I killed your parents, Patience. What if one day you look at me and all you see is a killer?”
She wiped the tears away that had fallen. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No, of course not. I want you to stay at home, and to want me to be part of your life. To love me as I love you.”
“I do love you, Cade. I love you so much that hearing you say these things hurts. I know you killed my parents, and maybe I’m flawed or something, but in the past few months you have showed me more love and more care than my parents ever showed me in an entire lifetime. I was just a big mistake to them. They just wanted me to take care of them, so they could go off and do whatever the hell they wanted. They didn’t love me, or care about me.” She put her food carton down and moved toward him, cupping his face. “If you want me to leave, then tell me to go, and I will. I’ll do what you want, but don’t think you’re doing this for me. When I told you that I loved you, I meant it. So our lives are not ideal. Whose is? You kill people for a living … that’s not ideal, but I love you. I can’t just flick a switch off inside my head and go back to not loving you. I love you.” She pressed a kiss to his lips. “I want you to be my husband. I want us to have a family, Cade.” She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. “Our son or daughter is growing. I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to be anywhere else but here.”
Cade caught her, sinking his fingers into her hair, and slamming her lips down on his. She moaned, holding him close, knowing that she would never regret this moment.
“I will never give you this option again, Patience. You’re mine now for the rest of our lives.”
She smiled. “Bring it on, Cade. I look forward to it.”
And she did.
****
“You know this is totally lame even by your standards,” Alfero said.
“Shut up.” Cade smoothed out his jacket and smiled as his best friend shook his head. He didn’t give a shit what Alfero or anyone else thought.
This was the wedding he’d always wanted to give Patience and now was his chance. He wasn’t going to pass that up. She had the wedding gown specially made, and with her ever-expanding stomach, she’d wanted to have the dream wedding as soon as possible. The truth was Patience didn’t want another wedding. She’d told him that her first one she was more than happy with.
She hated being the center of attention, so anything that put her there, she avoided.
This wasn’t what she’d wanted, but this was what Cade wanted to give her. For her to experience the love he felt for her, and he hoped that she experienced it every single day.
From the moment he first saw her, this was the day he’d wanted to give her. She didn’t have many friends, but his colleagues and friends more than made up for the event. This was about welcoming her into the Alfero fold.
“I’m happy for you,” Alfero said, leaning in close. “You have to admit I did right with getting her to marry you.”
“I’m not going to admit to anything.” He smiled and gripped his best friend’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
“I was getting tired of you constantly watching her. It was pitiful. The Alfero name must create fear in our enemies. Whenever I thought about it, and then I’d think about you, I could just see a long-lost puppy. Couldn’t have that.”
Cade burst out laughing. He imagined he did look like that long-lost puppy.
The Alferos had taken his family with their betrayal, but they had also given him the love of his life, and a family of his own.
He turned toward the aisle as the music began to play. There, on one of her guard’s arms, was his wife, Patience.
She wore a white veil, and the wedding dress molded to her perfect tits, but flared out around her waist.
Their baby growing inside her. Their future family, their love, their everything. Pride and love filled him as Patience came toward him, taking his hand as they stood before the priest.
Cade listened to the words and stared intently at his bride. Everyone and everything fell away. Nothing mattered but the woman at his side.
When the time came for him to kiss his bride, he lifted the veil and saw her smiling. Tears filled her eyes, but he’d come to see that those tears were ones filled with happiness, not sadness.
Kissing his wife, Cade finally felt like he belonged. Patience grasped his arms and held him tightly, and he knew that even though they didn’t have the best start for a couple, there was nowhere else he’d rather be. He loved her with all of his heart, had vowed to protect her, and would be by her side until his dying day.
Pulling away, the smile on her lips would last him a lifetime. Leaving the church, he accepted the congratulations and the cheers as photographers waited for them.
With Patience in his arms, he was able to deal with each photographer as they snapped away, making a memory of this day.
One he hoped they’d share with their kids.
Once they were inside the limo though, he had her beneath him, running his hand down her body, to rest on the swell of her stomach.
“Are you going to have your wicked way with me?”
“Always, you know me, babe. I think you want it as well?”
Her cheeks were pink, and her breasts pressed against the bodice of her dress. “You can take me anywhere, anytime,” she said. “I’m yours as you’re mine.” She sank her fingers into his hair, pulling him close.
There were worse places to consummate the marriage than in the back of a limo. Patience wasn’t one of his virtues, but his Patience was all his.
Epilogue
Two years later
Cade watched his son as he crawled around the back lawn. He no longer lived at the penthouse apartment in the city, but had purchased this safe, secluded house where he employed enough guards and security to allow him to sleep at night.
Patience lay on the ground in his arms, her stomach already swollen with their second child. They watched their son crawl around as he chased butterflies.
“He’s adorable,” he said. “I can’t believe how lucky we are.”
She chuckled and placed a hand on his cheek. “Did I ever say thank you?”
He frowned, glancing down at his wife. The past two years with her had been a dream. The love he thought he felt in the beginning was nothing compared to how he felt right now. She had gotten under his skin, and there was no way he’d ever be able to survive without her. She was his entire world, the love of his life, and the very person he couldn’t live without.
“For what?”
“For seeing me that day. For not giving up, and for falling in love with me. For giving me a child that I will love for the rest of my life.”
He cupped her face, and smiled down at her. “There is nothing to thank me for.”
“There is. You’ve given me everything my heart could desire. All I ever wanted was a family of my own. A family to love, and to take care of. You’ve given me that, Cade.” She placed his hand on her stomach. “This is our family. I will cherish our children, and you, always.”
He was more than happy to oblige. With their son on his shoulders, he grabbed Patience’s hand, and together they chased butterflies around the garden, laughing, happy, content. The perfect family.
It was more than he could have ever imagined, and yet it was utterly perfect.
The End
www.evernightpublishing.com/sam-crescent
ANGEL MINE
Maia Dylan
Copyright © 2017
Chapter One
“Angelo Battaglia moved on Poppa John.”
Gavriil Volkov shot a hand into the air, calling for silence from the men at the table around him.
“Where are you, Anthony?” Gavriil growled into the phone.
“Fulton River … near the casino. Roberto dead. Falcone gone.”
Anthony’s voice was weak, his breathing harsh. Gavriil had been around too many men on the cusp of death not to recognize the signs. Anthony was dying, and rather than using his phone to call for medical help, he was calling him. It didn’t surprise Gavriil at all. Anthony had been with the family for years, and was one of only a handful of men John “Poppa John” Carlisi, head of one of the largest organized crime families in Chicago, would have by his side when he ventured beyond the walls of his home.
Gavriil covered the phone and barked orders at his men even as he moved toward the elevator that would take him down to the parking level.
“We’re on our way. Is he alive?” Gavriil punched the down button once he and his crew were in and waited for Anthony’s answer.
“Yeah … injured... Got away—” a horrific gurgling sound came over the line. Anthony must have taken a round to the chest. Gavriil closed his eyes, offering up a prayer to a man who had taught him much of this world he lived in. He held the phone to Anthony’s son Tony. It was one of the hardest things to stand and listen to a son tell his father goodbye.
When Tony handed him back the phone, his face was the picture of grief. “I know you grieve, brother, we all do. We will do right by your father, I promise you that. But right now, we need to bring Poppa John home safe.”
The elevator dinged, signaling their arrival, and the doors swept open.
“And what then?” Tony asked in a harsh voice.
Gavriil leveled the younger man with a look. “Amnesty be damned. We burn that fucking family to the ground.”
****
Abigail Hartman flicked the sign at the front door of her little café from Open to Closed and leaned back against the door with a sigh. She had always hoped that her business would be successful, but she had never imagined how quickly that would happen. She looked over at the photo of her mom and nonna smiling side by side in the kitchen of her grandparents’ old apartment.
“Who would have thought, huh?” she said softly. “All those years of following the two of you around that old kitchen and begging you to teach me how to cook has led me to this. The road was hard, mama, but I weathered it, and I’m here. I’m safe.”
Abigail pressed her palm against the ache that had bloomed in her chest before shaking her head to rid herself of those thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she moved toward the kitchen. All she wanted was to go upstairs to her small studio apartment above the café and give in to the fatigue that plagued her. However, the list of things she needed to do turned over and over in her mind.
A scuffing noise and a soft thud made her pause before she entered the kitchen.
“Hello?”
Abigail didn’t know what the heck she thought she’d get back in response, but what sounded like a pain-filled groan was definitely not on the list. Someone was hurt and they were in her kitchen.
Not thinking too much about the consequences or what she might encounter, Abigail pushed open the swinging door and slammed to a halt, a scream frozen in her throat. A man who looked to be in his sixties was sitting on the floor, leaning with his back against the cabinets beneath the solitary window in the kitchen, pointing a pistol right at her. Despite the fact the man looked like he was about to keel over, and the shocking amount of blood that was currently pooling on her pristine kitchen floor, he held the gun steady.
Abigail flinched when someone shouted out in the alley beyond the back door of her kitchen. “He’s in one of these stores. Has to be. That old fucker couldn’t get very far. Bring in the dog, we’ll find him.”
The man with the gun closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a deep sigh. When he opened his eyes, they were filled with resignation.
“You look like my Sofia when she was young,” he whispered gently, lowering the weapon. “She is fifty-eight now, and still so beautiful. How I wish I might set eyes on her one last time.”
A banging on the door to the dry cleaners next door was accompanied by a loud voice demanding to be let in. Abigail shot a quick glance at the door, before returning her gaze to the man.
He nodded at her with a sad smile. “It is okay, piccolo. They are here for me, not you. Let them in, they will take me from here. Ask them no questions and you will be safe.”
Abigail frowned at that. “You know, in my experience with testosterone-fueled rages like the men outside are currently exhibiting, it is always the innocents that get hurt the most. And I have a feeling in this scenario that would be me.”
A flicker of respect crossed the man’s expression. “That can be true, but if you do me the honor of trusting me, I think I might be able to persuade them to leave you alone. After all, if I know my enemies well, and I do, they will want to take me to Salvadore to end me himself.”
Abigail had no clue what the man was talking about. Perhaps had she been a Chicago native she might, but she’d only been in the city for six months. What she did know was that this man was willing to sacrifice himself for her. A stranger to him. And that spoke to her more than his request for her to trust him.
Moving quickly, she set the security chain on the back door then grabbed the half full bag of wet coffee grounds she’d set beside it to take out to the dumpster. With a grimace of disgust and not wanting to think how long this cleanup was going to take her tonight, she dumped the grounds on the floor, scattering them toward the back door, covering the smears of blood on the floor then flung it over the wounded man. To his credit he didn’t even flinch. The scent of coffee exploded within the room.
“Piccolo, may I ask what you are doing?”
Abigail shot him a quick look. “Either saving your life or making a huge mistake that is going to end up costing me mine.”
She tugged her large butcher’s block over beside the man, blocking him from view of anyone who came to the door. The block had various containers and utensils she used when baking, and her large commercial planetary mixer on the top. It was old, but it did the job. The side benefit for this moment was that it was loud. Sending up a prayer of thanks that she’d already loaded the mixer and the trolley with what she needed to make dough in the morning, she set the machine going and threw in the wet ingredients. She cringed at what a waste this would be, but figured the loss was acceptable given the circumstances.
She’d just pulled on her apron when someone banged on her door. Taking a deep breath and running a hand over her hair, she opened it. She jumped back with a cry when a hand pushed the door as wide as it would go and a snarling barking dog pressed his head through the opening.
“Oh, my goodness!” Abigail didn’t have to fake her surprise or the fear that put a quiver in her voice.
“Turn that fucking machine off!” the man demanded and Abigail hurried to do as he asked. “You the only one in here?”
“Y-yes,” Abigail stuttered, her eyes locked on the dog that could no doubt scent her fear.
“Seems you have a thing about dogs, little one. I bet I can make it so you’d love Titan here. Right, boy? Seek, Titan,” the man said and when Abigail flicked her gaze up to his face she caught the gl
eam of menace and pleasure in his face. He must have caught on to her distress over the dog and was clearly urging the animal to be more aggressive. He appeared shocked when the dog’s growl ended in a whimper and he pulled back from the gap in the door.
“What the fuck?” the man grunted as the dog began to pull in the opposite direction, growling and going crazy, clearly desperate to pull the man in the opposite direction. “You got that prick’s scent, Titan? Seek boy, seek!”
Abigail watched as he released the dog and called for the other three men in the alley to follow the dog as it now raced out of the alley. She closed and locked the door again as all the strength left her body and she slid down the door to end in a crumpled heap on the floor. She drew in great gasps of air, fighting the anxiety and panic attack that threatened to knock her out.
“Piccolo?” She heard the man groan and a shuffling noise that told her he was trying to move.
“It’s okay,” she gasped, “I’m okay. Really. Just give me a minute.”
Abigail dropped her head between her knees and took in as much air as she could, staving off the nausea and need to pass out. A moment later she felt a bit stronger and crawled on the floor around the butcher’s block to check on the man. He looked very pale.
“Thank you, piccolo.”
Abigail gave him a small smile back. “My nonna used to call me that.” The man smiled, then grimaced in pain and Abigail crawled forward to help him onto the floor as he keeled sideways. “Oh, man, you are hurt more than I thought. I should call an ambulance.”
He gripped her hand in a surprisingly strong hold. “No. Call Gavriil. He will know what to do.”
Abigail was sure that an ambulance would be better, but the man held her gaze. After a moment, she nodded and reached for her phone. If the man was too stubborn to seek medical assistance when he so desperately needed it, then who was she to force him. She could only hope that this Gavriil was worthy of the confidence this wounded man obviously had in him. If not, it might cost this man his life.