My Bad Boy's Secret: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (206 page)

              “Could you please bring me my bag over there? I’d like to read something to distract myself.”

              He handed me my bag, which contained all my papers and notes. It contained a lot of the stuff I received at the conference. I flipped through my folders, hoping that staring at the boring legalese would calm me down from the shock I had just received.

              I went through folders and picked up one that I had gotten from the gang seminar. I opened it and looked at the photos of graffiti, dead bodies, and tattoos. When I saw the pages of tattoos, it hit me like a load of bricks.

              The flame tattoos were the same as the ones on Blake’s forearms. The “cut here” tattoo on his throat was exactly the one in the picture. The devils on his shoulders were ones I recognized too. I matched the images of naked women, the green demons, the jokers, and red devils to the other random tattoos scattered all over his body.

              I read the name of the gangs that were associated with the tattoos. The Blood Brothers. The Devil’s Delegates. The Thug Nation. The Freaks. But the name that came up most often was the Blood Brothers.

              It was this discovery that finally made me keel over and faint. When I came to, I was on the bed, and Officer Wills and a paramedic were leaning over me.

              “Are you OK? You fainted and went out like a light. What happened?” asked the paramedic.

              I remembered what I saw. “I just found out something horrible. The man who was here. His name is Blake. And he’s a criminal. He’s affiliated with gangs. I know, because I’ve seen his tattoos. It must be him.”

              “You mean your boyfriend?” said Officer Wills in alarm.

              I just nodded.

              I now knew that the man I loved was not what he claimed to be. He was not just some tough bodybuilder. He was a criminal, and possibly on the run. But I still knew so little. I had to find him and ask him the several million questions buzzing in my mind. Who was he really? Why was he here? What had he done with Luciana?

              “You may want to come listen to the answering machine when you feel better, ma’am,” said Officer Wills. “We heard a message on it that might tell us something.”

              He played it, and an old man’s voice spoke. “
Cuore,
this is just to let you know that we’re all ready when you are. Just give us the word. Bring us the beer, and then we’re having a party in Memphis.”

              Was that someone in Luciana’s family? I had no idea. This message was just one more conundrum in this web of conundrums. My head began hurting again.

Chapter 3 – Luciana

              We were parked on the side of the single asphalt strip that made up the road. At least we were no longer driving on dirt. We’d have to get gas soon, but none of us had any idea when the next gas station would turn up. Besides, we were pretty tired from driving so much, and we needed a break. Making all those wrong turns and getting lost so much didn’t help at all.

              Seeing as it was a fine opportunity to check up on our prey, daddy and I got out of our car and went to the van. I received a text earlier from Stefano urging me to come over. I had no idea what was the matter.

              The back doors opened, and I saw Blake still lying on the floor, curled up in the fetal position. The shape of his body was the way I remembered it, but he was quivering, and that was off. I noticed foam and saliva coming from his mouth. Angelo had his head close to Blake’s chest. I realized what had happened.

              “He’s not breathing!” shouted Stefano. He pulled me into the van. “Ms. Adalfieri, you gotta do something! He could die!”

              “What happened to him? What did you two buffoons do this time?” daddy demanded to know. But I had a sinking feeling that this was my fault.

              I kneeled and pushed Angelo away from Blake’s unconscious body. “Daddy, I know what’s wrong. It’s cardiac arrest. He’s in serious trouble.”

              “Well, what caused it?” bellowed daddy.

              I closed my eyes and sighed. I had to say it. “It might have been the meds I gave him.”

              “Meds?”

              “The barbiturates I put in his food. I must have added too much. I hoped that he’d eat just a little bit. He must’ve swallowed too much, and now his body can’t handle all those drugs.”

              “So what do we do?” asked Stefano.

              I felt screwed. Giving him CPR was one idea, but there was no guarantee that would save him, and it was only a temporary measure. Taking him to a hospital was out of the question. He’d die before we reached any hospital, and that was besides the whole issue of him being a wanted criminal that we were planning to sell for money. I didn’t have any medicine on me to revive him.

              I saw a Taser in a toolbox and an idea hit me. Unfortunately, the hit I was thinking of giving Blake might fry him. It was the only feasible idea I had at this point, however.

              “The Taser. It’s the closest thing we have to a defibrillator here. Give it to me,” I commanded. Angelo brought it over and I grabbed it. I turned it on, setting it to its lowest possible power level. I aimed at Blake’s torso. The electricity spat out and the lines hit Blake’s chest. He wriggled and hummed, and his entire body convulsed. Either I was going to save him or fry him to death.

              After what seemed like an eternity, I felt vindicated when I put my ear to Blake’s chest and heard a faint heartbeat. The Taser had somehow worked. It brought Blake back to life, and he would at least still be alive until we delivered him and got our money.

              I suddenly noticed how exhausted I was. The past several hours had drained me. I sat back and sighed heavily in relief and dismay.

              “A lot of good your meds did us,” I heard daddy grumble. He was pissed. I knew that this was on me, but hearing him complain angered me more than I expected.

              I turned and stared daggers at him. I was probably the only person on Earth who could do that to him and live to tell the tale. “You think I wanted this to happen? I had no idea that he would react to the drugs this way! I thought maybe he’d have one or two bites and then fall asleep!”

              “Well, you hoped wrong! Your boy slept so well he almost went to sleep for good!” Daddy was fuming, and the veins on his neck were bulging out. “This was supposed to be an open-and-shut mission. Drug a guy, kidnap him, and then take him to the people who want him. A middle school kid could do this. So far, you’ve gotten us two dead bodies and almost killed our bounty! You think the Blood Brothers will take a corpse? I knew sending you away from Chicago was a bad idea! You can’t handle running the family, you can’t even handle one kidnapping!”

              It took all my powers of restraint to not smack him then and there. As much as I loved my daddy and would do anything for him, I wasn’t going to tolerate anyone talking down to me. But I had seen enough movies to know not to continue the argument. Letting the family see the heads fighting was fatal. Disunity would spread, and we might find ourselves challenged or even ousted from power. Plus, we were short on time, and this break we took made us even more pressed for time.

              I forced my facial muscles to form a smile. “We’ll talk about this later, daddy. The important thing is that Blake Snatch is alive now, and we’re going to receive a very handsome reward for bringing him in. I know we’re going to succeed because I’ve made sure of it. We’re not going to have any more problems on the way.”

              I addressed the made men and burrowed my stare to make sure they listened to me. “Now get in your cars and follow me. We still have quite a drive ahead of us before reaching Memphis.”

              The guys obeyed me silently. For now, it seemed I still had authority.

Chapter 4 – Blake

              My head’s been nothing but black clouds since last night. Wait, has the night already passed? Or is it still that night me and Luciana got to the cabin? I have no idea in hell. All I’m sure about right now is that I have no idea where I’m going, and it’s not going to matter since I’ll be dead soon.

              Luciana… that bitch! All this time, was she just toying with me and my feelings? I was so sure that we were going to be a couple. After losing Rose, I saw Luciana as my rebound. I trusted her with my heart. And she ripped it out of my chest and broke it into a million pieces.

              After breaking up with one girlfriend, I thought I was lucky to find another, only she turned out to be a two-timing skank. I was now trapped in a van with a bunch of goons and probably going to be ground up in a wood chipper or thrown into a cement block. I kind of wished I had stayed in Detroit and took my bullet from the Blood Brothers.

              Wait, the Blood Brothers. I remember now. Just before I got knocked out in the forest, Luciana said that she was taking me to them. She probably planned all this to trap me. And now it makes sense why she brought up the gangs looking for me and the people I killed. It was all just to tease me and scare me shitless. The only thing left for me to do now was wait until I died. There was no way I was getting out, considering that I was surrounded at all times by thugs, drugged, and bound.

              The drugs seemed to have turned me into mush. I don’t know how I ingested them, and I still have trouble moving. I can feel the metal around my wrists and other parts of my body, cutting into my flesh. My arms and legs won’t seem to listen to my brain. Moving them is basically impossible. Even lifting a finger takes a lot of effort.

              I finally noticed that I was awake. For a while, I was drifting in and out of consciousness and occasionally hearing voices and seeing things, kind of like waking up from a deep sleep. My eyes were adjusting to my new surroundings. It hurt to be awake. I felt that my mouth was gagged, and I couldn’t say anything.

              I turned my eyes left and right, and I caught two guys on either side. One of them got up and stared at me. It wasn’t a nice look he gave me. He leered and raised the middle finger inches from my face.

              “Have a nice little nap, Blakey?” he taunted. “What’s the big bad assassin who killed people in all of the 50 states gonna do now?”

              I wanted so badly to kill this asshole, but I couldn’t do jack shit. My limbs were tied, I was still doped on drugs, and I couldn’t even spit or swear back. The only sound I made came out as a muffled groan.

              The other guy got up and slammed his foot into my ribs. The drugs actually made the pain a bit softer, but it still hurt like hell, and I screamed, which sounded like a high-pitched long groan thanks to the gag.

              The other guy joined in, and they laughed, punching and kicking me everywhere. When one guy got close enough, I used all my strength and head-butted him. That made him tumble back and get even angrier.

              “Go back to sleep, bitch!” he said as he brought his fist down and punched my forehead. The blow worked like a charm. I lost all consciousness and went limp. I closed my eyes, stopped trying to break the ropes, and pissed myself. A second before I was out cold again, I got an idea for a way that I might be able to save myself. It was a crapshoot, but everything was a crapshoot for me at this point. It wouldn’t hurt to try.

              Something else happened that I only learned about later on. Over in the last car in the caravan, the two corpses of the rangers were lying in the trunk of the Cadillac. One of them wasn’t a corpse yet. It was ranger Davidson, and she was still hanging on to life, despite being shot five times. She managed to pull her cell phone out of her pocket, and amidst the turbulent bumps and turns the car endured while driving through the mountain paths, she dialed 911 on her phone. It took plenty of tries and meticulous effort to overcome the pain of being shot and the worsening wooziness from blood loss, but she finally managed to get through.

              “911, what is your emergency?” asked the dispatcher.