Braden: A Dark Mafia Romance (10 page)

“Oww!  What the fuck?”  Angela fell back into her seat.

“You’ll live…”  She glared at me and I stared at her fingernail, which had traces of my blood.

Chapter 13:  Angela

The man next to me was an absolute monster—a monster I had fucked twice before I knew everything about him.  My best friend was dead because of him, and my father was hurt.  I wasn’t sure I could trust Braden enough to believe him when he said my father would live.  He hated my father as much as I hated him.  Somewhere in all of Braden’s darkness was a human being, but I couldn’t see his humanity anymore.  Ronald’s blood was on my chest, the last that he would ever spill.  Driving my fingernail into Braden’s wound was all the pain I could inflict on him, but it felt nice to be the one inflicting it for a change.  I hated him so much that I wanted to kill him, but at the same time, he was probably the only reason I was alive.  I dug into my pocket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes I had bought the night before with Ronald.  I put one in my mouth and he extended his lighter. I pulled away and lit it myself.

“I don’t need anything from you anymore.”  I said angrily as I took a drag and exhaled.

“I’m really sorry, Angela.  It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”  He shook his head and opened the door.

“How was it supposed to happen?”  I asked as I stepped out of the car.  “Were you just going to kill me at the Grand Ballroom after you got done fucking me?”

“Fine, you want to know the truth.  Let me tell you the truth.”  He walked close to me, his eyes twisted into a blazing fury of rage.

“Yeah, how about that for a change?”  I said, not backing down from his aggressive stance.

“Five years ago I watched the love of my life get gunned down by the Eight-Ballers.  Before that, I was a normal guy.  As normal as a human being can be when their compassion has been numbed by what they were forced to do for the government.  I was a soldier, so when war erupted in my streets, I reacted like a soldier.  I joined a new army and I picked up my gun—I went to war.”  He leveled his gaze at me.  “Then your father decided to take what was left of my world.”

“My father?  My father didn’t do anything to you!”  I stared directly into his eyes, unwilling to buckle under his words.

“Oh you don’t know anything, Angela.  You think I’m a bad person?  Your father knew the Mafia’s pull in prison was weak.  He signed an order pulling the protection on my father and sent him into the lion’s den!”  He turned away.  “He left my father to die.”

“What?”  I blinked a couple of times.  “My father would never intentionally do that…”

“Wouldn’t he?  He declared war on the Mafia when he got elected.  He promised to end the organization, and what better way to do it than to lock us up one by one and let the Eight-Ballers do his dirty work?”  Braden stared forward with his hands on his hips.

“So you decided to punish my father by fucking me and killing me?”  I walked over and stood in front of him, refusing to let him look away.  I wanted to see it in his eyes.

“He needs—needed to know that his actions had consequences.  He needed to feel the pain he inflicted on others.”  Braden’s anger seemed to be shifting towards remorse.

“Then why didn’t you do it?  Why did you let me live and then come back for more?  Why did you work so hard to keep me alive today?”  I didn’t care about his remorse; my anger was still an open wound.

“Because I felt something with you…”  He took a deep breath and then sighed.  “Something I haven’t felt since Mary died.”

Even before his eyes lowered, I finally saw a glimpse of the humanity that had been lacking in his stare since the first moment I met him.  Underneath the soldier, the killer, and the man loyal to his cause was something more.  The wounds on his body were not has deep was the wounds inflicted on his soul.  As much hate as I had built up inside of me, I couldn’t deny that I had felt something as well.  No man had ever made me feel so alive, so conflicted, and so angry.  I moved closer to him and forced a kiss on his lips.  He pushed me off and shook his head, but I refused to give up.  I had to feel his touch and see if it was still there after everything that had happened since the moment I met him.  I grabbed him by the back of his shoulder where the bullet had torn his flesh and kissed him again.  He recoiled for a moment and then he grabbed me by the back of the head and brought his lips to mine; he kissed me with that same hunger I had tasted before.  I pushed him back towards the car and started tearing his shirt away as his breath got heavier against my lips.

“We don’t have time for this.”  He said, but his lips and his eyes said he didn’t want to stop.

“Then we better be quick.”  My words were all the invitation he needed.  My t-shirt was peeled away and his arms wrapped around me.

His hands slid down my back and into my pants, sliding them down without my effort.  I stepped out of them and he lifted me up, spinning me around and placing me on the hood of the car.  I wrapped my legs around his waist, grinding my pelvis into him.  I wanted him so bad, even though I knew it was not the emotion I should have been feeling at that moment.  My desires overcame my logic and I unbuckled his belt, using the ends to pull him closer.  His lips drifted down my neck as he moved up and unfastened my bra.  The chill of December, even if it was a mild one, caused my nipples to get hard as they were pressed against his flesh.  His hands moved down to his pants and they fell to the ground.  He slid me closer so that I was slightly hanging off of the edge of the hood and then I felt his exposed cock pressed against my wetness.  He slid inside quickly, buried to the hilt as I let out a loud gasp of pleasure.

“Don’t hold back.”  I leaned in and whispered into his ear.

“I won’t.”  He replied as he slammed himself between my thighs.

There was something different in his touch, something more than just a lust for sex.  I could tell it by how he held me, how he moved against me, and how his heart beat against my breasts.  He wasn’t just fucking me; he was making love to me.  I started to slide myself forward to meet his thrusts.  I felt truly connected with him for the first time.  The intensity was still there, but he didn’t intentionally try to hurt me.  He held me against the hood and supported my back so it wouldn’t slam into the metal each time he drove himself into me.  I had enjoyed being taken roughly by the mysterious stranger, but there was a merging of our souls as I felt his cock hastily move across my g-spot.  I slid into him as fast as I could and he met me with the same force.  I threw my head back with pleasure, trusting him to support me as the pleasure enveloped my whole body.  I could feel his muscles tense as he continued to drive his cock into my pussy.  The whole car rocked with each thrust.

“Don’t stop.”  I begged as his thrusts got faster.

He was close and I could feel it as his cock throbbed.  It was the first time he had gotten close without my orgasm already pouring out of my body.  There was a different hunger in him; he was seeking more than sex—the emotional connection was sending him over the edge.  Once I felt him begin to pulsate inside of me, my body reacted.  My eyes closed as the mixture of emotions and pleasure swept through me.  I tried to hold on.  I didn’t want it to end.  I knew our time was limited and we didn’t have long, but I still craved more.  I wanted it to last forever.  While he was inside of me, the rest of the world was washed away.  Everything that had happened was temporarily suspended, but once we were done, we had to face the reality and deal with it.  The orgasm built and then his cum started to surge into me.  I couldn’t hold on any longer.  I came, squeezing every last drop out of him as his momentum slowed.  He pulled me close and his breathing started to return to normal.

“Just hold me…”  I begged as I slumped onto his shoulder.

“When this is all over, I’ll hold you as long as you want, but there is something I have to do.”  He pulled away and reached for his pants.

I groaned as I dropped off of the hood and started to piece myself back together.  I pulled out a cigarette and his lighter appeared like magic, the flame ignited in front of me.  I leaned forward and lit it, following behind him after he gathered everything he needed out of the car.  He rolled his shoulder a couple of times and I could see the stain on his shirt oozing with fresh blood.  I had no idea what he had in mind, but I knew I had to trust him.  I still couldn’t believe my father would actually put a man in harm’s way even if he was trying to topple the Mafia Empire.  That just wasn’t the kind of man he was.  Braden didn’t know my father like I did.  He didn’t know the man who stopped representing criminals because it ate away at his conscious.  For that kind of man to turn to what amounted to murder—there was no way I could wrap my head around that.

Chapter 14:  Braden

We had to get a car.  Unfortunately, even though I was able to wipe down the one we were in, my blood was on the seat, so I would have to send someone to burn it later.  It was out of sight for the moment, and it didn’t seem like anyone used that level of the garage, so I felt like it would stay out of sight.  My shoulder was killing me, but the endorphins of our lovemaking had offset it enough for me to walk comfortably.  I looked around the cars in the lower deck until I found one with a winter jacket in it.  It was heavier than I would have liked, but it would cover the blood.  I had to laugh when I found the door unlocked.  Nothing seemed to be going my way, so I didn’t expect to find even a semblance of good luck.  The blood on Angela wiped away easy enough, and her shirt didn’t show it like mine did.  I walked out into the street with her in tow and crossed the street into another parking garage where I found a car I could boost.

“Come on.”  I said as I slid into the driver’s seat.

“Why didn’t we take the one you got the jacket from?”  She asked as she climbed in the passenger seat.

“I don’t want the cops searching that garage.  A jacket isn’t going to summon the cops, but grand theft auto certainly will.”  I pulled out the wires underneath the dash and quickly hotwired it.

“Where are we going?”  Angela lit another cigarette and cracked the window as I entered traffic.

“Something doesn’t add up…”  I muttered.  I reached over and took the cigarette from her, taking a long drag.

“Okay…”  She dug into her pack and lit another quickly.  “What doesn’t add up?”

“The fucking Eight-Ballers.  They’re a street gang.  They run drugs, women, and occasionally guns.  They don’t kill District Attorneys.  Shooting at us, killing other criminals, sure…  Yeah, they’ll do that.  This brings a war to their doorsteps.  This jeopardizes everything for them.”  I took another long drag and blew smoke out the window.

“You’re defending the guys who killed your fiancé; the fucking thugs that killed Ronald?”  Angela shook her head in confusion.

“I’m not defending them.  They’re trash!  I’d kill every one of them as soon as I would look at them, but they aren’t stupid.”  I tapped the cigarette out the window and kept my eyes focused forward.

“Maybe you’re just giving them too much credit…”  Angela said.

“I’m going to get you somewhere safe, and then I have to figure this out.”  I turned the car towards my father’s house.

“I want to stay with you.”  Angela said in protest.

“You need to trust me.”  I slowed the car when I turned onto my father’s street.  There was a car parked in his driveway.  “Can you drive a stick shift?”

“Yeah…”  Angela nodded.  “Why?”

“Someone is inside my father’s house.”  I stopped the car and made sure I had a bullet in the chamber.

“Braden, don’t go in there!  Let’s just drive!”  Angela grabbed my arm as I reached for the door handle.

“If anyone besides me comes out that door, you hit the gas and you don’t stop until you see California.”  I grabbed her by the back of the neck.  “Do you understand me?”

“Don’t go inside there, Braden!”  Her eyes filled with tears.

“Angela…”  I paused and then looked into her eyes, wiping away a tear.  “I love you.  I never thought I would say that to anyone again, but until I figure out why the Eight-Ballers did this, you aren’t safe.”

“Braden…”  She grabbed me by the collar and pressed her lips to mine.  “I love you too.”

“Arg…”  I muttered as she pulled my shoulder harder than I could stand.  “I’ll be back.”

I had no idea who would be inside my father’s house, but what I did know was that the car in the driveway was one of ours.  It was from the same fleet as the one I left in the parking garage.  The only people who would have access to them were members of the Family.  I tucked my gun into the back of my waistband as I walked around to the back and took the key from the false rock in the garden.  My father had always kept it there.  I slowly slid it into the back door and entered the house.  I knew exactly where to step in order to avoid making noise.  I had slipped into that house without being detected hundreds of times.  I walked towards the living room, scanning each room and listening for any sound of another human being.  When I got to the living room, I tilted my head to the side.  Sitting in my father’s chair with a lit cigar in his hand was Don Abrami.

“Hello Braden.”  He said with a smile as I entered the room.

“Don Abrami?  What are you doing here?”  I stood in front of him, but I didn’t let my guard down.

“The house is compromised because of that Edwards kid.  It is only a matter of time before your mistake brings a hundred cops down on it.”  He lifted his cigar to his lips.

“My mistake?”  I glared at him angrily.  “I didn’t let him get away.”

“He shouldn’t have been there in the first place.  This intricate revenge plan of yours—it was too complex.  That isn’t our way.  A bullet could have given you the vengeance you wanted.”  He shook his head as he exhaled smoke.

“If I would have done that, would I have even put a bullet in the right man?  Why would the Eight-Ballers try to take him out?  He has no beef with them.”  I continued to watch him closely.

“Who knows why that trash does what they do.  He probably raided one of their houses or something.  We weren’t the only ones he had a hard on for.”  Don Abrami shrugged.  “He killed your father, and that is all you need to be concerned with.”