My Bad Boy's Secret: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (209 page)

BOOK: My Bad Boy's Secret: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance
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              The best thing for us to do now was hightail it for Chicago. If we could get back, we could collect our guns, money, and men and find ourselves a good hiding place. We’d be able to hash out a better plan at home.

 

              “What’s our next step, Luciana?” asked daddy very quietly. It scared me. If he called me by my name, he had an issue with me. Of course, what could it be?

 

              I spoke slowly and carefully. “We’re going back to Chicago. That’s the safest place for us right now. It’s where our friends and resources are. We’ll regroup and plan our strategy from there.”

 

              Daddy said nothing in response. He had nothing nice to say, and nothing bad to say either. I knew, though, that we were in a thoroughly fucked situation. Our covers were blown, and the feds would be swarming over our homes and businesses, trying to find us and put us in prison.

 

              Maybe, just maybe, if daddy weren’t around anymore, I could fix the family. I could do a better job, modernize the Maggadinos, and restore us to our former glory.

 

              I thought about how I could do away with daddy in the most discreet way possible. I could feed him something and let the drugs to the dirty work, or maybe lure him into a dangerous situation, or pay someone to do the job for me.

 

              I suddenly felt daddy’s hand on my leg. It rattled me, and I turned to look at him.

 

              “I know what you’re thinking,
cuore
,” he said silkily. “I can see it in your eyes. But don’t do it. It won’t work. And it’s not good for our family.”

 

              I nearly shit myself at that moment. My plans evaporated instantly. I tried staring at the road, terrified of looking at daddy. Even at his age, he was sharper than everyone around him.

 

              “How did you know?” I somehow asked. I sounded like I was a little girl again, caught trying to steal money from mom, like a deer in the headlights.

 

              Daddy leaned and sank into his seat. “When you’ve been doing this for as long as me,
cuore
, you’ll be able to notice these things just by looking. Never try to outwit me. You’re not smart enough yet to do that. Try again when you’ve gotten older and wiser.”

 

              “I’m sorry, daddy,” I said, and I meant it. I took out my phone and logged onto my largest bank account. At this point, my funds fortunately weren’t frozen yet. I transferred them to my Swiss account.

 

              “I’ll reserve some plane tickets for us when we get back,” I told daddy. “It might be a good idea to leave the country for a while. We can visit the family back in Naples. Vacation in Rome and Milan. Does that sound good?”

 

              Daddy smiled. “I like that. We can relax and then figure out where Blake and your friend are.”

 

              I smiled back. “Yes, let’s do that.”

 

Chapter 11 – Rose

 

              I sat next to Blake in the meeting room. Facing us were two people, a woman who was a U.S. Assistant Attorney, and a man who was the director of the FBI.

 

              It wasn’t easy convincing all of us to get together here in one room. Being here made me feel like a criminal for some reason. It wasn’t a totally weird emotion. For one, I was defending a criminal. Convincing the government to not put Blake in solitary confinement and convict him of all of his crimes overnight was a Herculean feat. Getting them to sit down and debate this deal I cobbled together was a miracle.

 

              I spent nearly a week hammering out all the details of the plan with the Department of Justice. I explained it to Blake first, and he initially refused to be part of it. After a couple hours of debating and explaining that this was the only possible way he could ever be free and not spend the rest of his life on death row, he agreed.

 

              The government at first didn’t want to strike any compromise. They had been after Blake over dozens of homicide cases for years, but could never catch him thanks to his stealth and skill at hiding his identity, or leaving so little behind in terms of clues. Now that they finally had him, the only thing they wanted to do was sentence him to death. Making any deal would infuriate law enforcement and the public, so our arrangement had to be top-secret.

 

              “You should know that this sort of agreement is highly unconventional,” began the woman. “We usually do not negotiate with murderers who have records as extensive as yours, Mr. Snatch.”

 

              Blake sneered at the attorney. “Yeah? Well, eat my ass, lady. You think I’m enjoying this? Just give it to me straight.”

 

              The attorney looked like she was ready to strangle Blake, but held herself back.

 

              The FBI director raised his hand for silence. “The media must never know about this,” he declared. “We would never hear the end of it if this was reported. We have taken measures to keep all of the details of our deal, strictly confidential. You will have to comply with the terms to ensure that our arrangement remains as such. If word gets out, you are on your own. We will simply throw you away in prison and wash our hands of the both of you.”

 

              It was harsh, but I expected it. “I understand, sir,” I responded.

 

              “Hold on,” said Blake. “Can someone please explain to me just what exactly it is that I’m agreeing to? You’re saying you’re not going to put me in jail right now? What’s the catch?”

 

              “The catch, Mr. Snatch, is that you will have to work for us,” said the FBI director as he lit a cigar. “Ms. Whitney has informed us of your involvement in many major crimes over the past decade. Many of them remain unsolved. Neither she nor we were informed about all of the murders you have personally committed. All we know is what Ms. Whitney has told us. You are to share your knowledge of the criminal organizations you have collaborated with and worked for. Your testimony will be crucial helping us…”

 

              “Whoa,” interrupted Blake, “I am sure as hell not testifying in any court against anyone. You think I’ll stay alive if I become a rat? I’ll tell you what you want to know, but if I set foot in a courtroom I’m as good as dead.”

 

              “You won’t have to actually testify,” I said. “Like I told you at the hospital, you just need to come clean about the past. Help the feds by filling in the blanks about the cases. Give them the details on the Mexican mafia, the Irish mob, and the triads. Just do what you did for me with the Blood Brothers.”

 

              “Ms. Whitney is right,” commented the attorney. “In exchange, you’ll get to stay out of prison and still live free amongst the rest of society. Of course, you’ll be under our surveillance and protection, and we’ll do everything in our power to keep you safe. You’ll be given a new identity and put under witness protection. This is the best amnesty deal you can hope to get.”

 

              “Whoop-de-fucking-do,” grumbled Blake. “So is that all? I just tell you stuff you want to know, help you solve some cases, and I’m good?”

 

              “I’m afraid not,” muttered the FBI director. He puffed on his cigar. “In order to hold up your end of the bargain, you’ll have to continue being a government employee. We’re aware of your reputation, Mr. Snatch, and we must admit that we’re impressed by your exploits. We have use for a man with your talents.”

 

              “Meaning?” Blake asked impatiently.

 

              “Meaning that we need you to continue being an assassin. The difference is that from now on, you won’t be breaking the law, you’ll be upholding it in this new career. Your client is no longer the mafia or yakuza, but Uncle Sam. You’ll be joining Navy SEALs, CIA agents, and other elite forces for assassination missions. The US government has a lot of people who want to do us harm, and a killer with your skills is hard to come by. We don’t want to waste your abilities,” explained the FBI director.

 

              This really surprised Blake. “You want me to keep killing? Who do I kill?”

 

              “Drug lords, terrorists, gangsters. The list is endless. You’ll be very busy,” remarked the attorney.

 

              Blake leaned back in his chair. He sighed.

 

              “Do we have a deal?” asked the FBI director, pushing a document towards Blake to sign.

 

              Blake looked very broken. “Don’t have a choice, do I? Getting shivved in prison or working as a government dog. Never thought I’d say this, but I’m going to help the feds.” He picked up the pen and slowly signed his name, then placed the pen on the table as soon as he was finished. He just sat there in silence with a blank stare on his face.

 

              I picked up the pen, and the FBI director pushed the deal to me. I put my signature down.

 

              “Why’s Rose signing?” asked Blake.

 

              “Ms. Whitney has very generously agreed to be your handler. Given your previous history with one another, we agreed that she would be an appropriate individual to oversee your new life and employment under the government,” the attorney explained.

 

              “Wait, so Rose, Rose is going to stay with me? We’re not leaving?” said Blake, genuinely confused.

 

              “Of course I’m staying. Why would we separate?” I told him.

 

              Suddenly, Blake looked slightly happier than he had been during the meeting. “OK, then I guess it won’t be that bad.” He lowered his head, then looked up again at the other three people in the room. “So wait, you’re going to quit your job.”

 

              I shrugged. “Well, yeah. So I can do this new job.”

 

              “And you and your kids will stay with me? And watch me and help me?”

 

              “That’s my new job. Your handler. I’ll still be working for the government, just in a new way. And we can be together again. What do you think?”

 

              “I think, uh…I think I like that. I like that a lot.” Blake was trying to look less happy than he actually felt.

 

              “You’re a very lucky man, son,” the FBI director chimed in. He tapped his cigar ashes into an ashtray. “This young lady did everything she could to keep you from going to prison, and wouldn’t leave us alone until we agreed to help you. A woman who will do that much for you is a keeper. Treat her right.”

 

              All Blake could do was nod and smile.

 

              I was on cloud nine as we left the meeting. Blake and I went to a restaurant to get lunch. As I drove, Blake asked me a question.

 

              “Hey Rose, promise you won’t get mad at me for asking?”

 

              “Yeah, what is it?”

 

              “You won’t laugh either?”

 

              “No, just ask me. What do you want to say?”

 

              “Who’s Uncle Sam?”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12 – Blake

 

I’m still having trouble getting used to my new name. Just when I felt comfortable being called Jim Collins, I now had to force myself to be referred to as Terry Chatham. I hate my new name even more than my last one. But being Blake Snatch in public is just too dangerous. That’s a name I can only use at home these days.

 

              About once every year, Rose, the kids, and I move somewhere new and get new names and identities. We don’t have any choice in selecting them. They’re created for us. The government insists it’s for our own good and I don’t trust them, but at least they foot the bill for moving us and doing all the paperwork.

 

              Today we’ve arrived in our new home, and we’re still unloading and unpacking our stuff. I keep my beard a lot shorter these days, which disappoints Rose, but it’s a necessary precaution. I look a lot different from how I used to, which will make it harder for anyone who wants to hurt us to find us. Believe me, despite how much we’ve moved and how often we change our appearances and names, we’re still in danger.

 

              Rose hasn’t worked for the Atlanta DA’s office for years, obviously. The feds gave her a new job, which is living with and keeping an eye on me. Officially, she’s a federal witness protection handler and chaperone. It’s a fancy title, but her main duties are making sure I don’t get in any trouble again and seeing that I’m behaving myself.

 

              Ever since Rose used her law degree and legal expertise to wrangle that deal with the government three years ago, I’ve been fulfilling my end of the bargain. I work for the government too, only I don’t really have an official title. The government likes to keep me a secret, not just to keep me alive, but so the public won’t know about their dirty work. I guess you could call me a government assassin, if this were a movie and you insisted on giving my job a name. I find people the government doesn’t like, and I make sure they stop antagonizing the government. In return, I get a fat paycheck and a cozy life with the woman I love.

 

              I’m basically still a killer for hire, and I hate it. To be fair, most of my victims these days are guilty, and do deserve to die. I’ve killed neo-Nazis, far-left radicals, right-wing militia members, Islamic terrorists, serial killers, anarchists, and all sorts of criminals who pose a threat and need to be dealt with. Instead of other criminals, I now work for the people who make the law and punish criminals. Instead of any innocent person a gang wants snuffed out, I kill people who are breaking the law. A lot of my kills these days are big time criminals the government would love to put behind bars, but are much too sly and elusive to arrest and prosecute, so instead of going through all the legal channels, they just give me instructions and a sniper rifle and let me do my thing.

 

              Never in a billion years did I think I would end up like this. First of all, I’m somehow still alive. When as a kid I was sure that I would be dead by the time I was 21 from the life I was leading. Not only that, I’m alive and happy, thanks to getting to live with Rose and her kids, who are actually getting used to calling me “dad”. Me, a father? That’s just too crazy for me to even imagine. And finally, how the hell am I working for the government? I always hated the police, hated lawyers, and hated politicians. They were my natural enemies. They made the laws, arbitrarily decided what was legal and what wasn’t, and put me and my friends in jail. I swore that I’d cut my balls off before cooperating with the feds, and if I ever learned that any of my friends helped the government, I’d kill them myself. A guy like me working for the government is like a drug dealer working for D.A.R.E.

 

              Yet every month, the government sends me and Rose a salary and pays my bills. I’d never say this out loud, but I’m thankful for what they do. That doesn’t mean that I enjoy what I do for a living. If I could, I’d quit my job today and find a new one tomorrow.

 

              I try to educate myself and learn new things when I’m not out working. Sometimes, I’m gone for weeks at a time, because I have to fly to another country in order to reach my target. Rose tells Jessica and Amber that I’m going on hunting and fishing trips, which is one way of putting it. Visiting another country is another thing I never dreamed I would ever do. On my business trips, though, all I’m doing is business. I never got the chance to actually visit that church with all the round domes in Moscow or dive in the Great Barrier Reef. I only have time to go there and kill someone, then get out before someone notices me. I went to the top of the Eiffel Tower, but that was just so I could get the best vantage point for sniping.

 

              When I’m not busy with work, I like to stay home, spend time with my family, and have the sort of normal life I never had before. Since I never got to finish high school, I studied for my G.E.D., and finally got it last year. I started reading for fun. I never read a single book in my life before. I hadn’t read anything for fun since I was in elementary school. My only hobby back then was watching TV. Now I’m trying out sports, I went to the beach a few times when we lived in Florida, and I take classes online. I don’t really have a specific plan for what I want to learn, but I want to learn a little bit of everything. I’ve signed up for cooking, science, math, history, philosophy, and a ton of other stuff I knew nothing about. This embarrasses me, but I remember not so long ago that I didn’t even know that The Great Pyramids were in Egypt. Even the kids laughed at me for not knowing. Rose tried not to giggle.

 

              I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life as just some dumb guy who killed people for money. I really hoped that wasn’t all I was good for. I wanted to be a normal person, and know and do all the things regular people like Rose know and do. I wish I could wash away the old me, get rid of the bad Blake and the crimes he’d committed, and start living as an honest person. I pray that there’s some spell or formula to exorcise myself of my demons, and I’d do anything to learn it. I want to be cleansed.

 

              It’s been three years, and I’ve pretty much given up on that.

 

              Today is Sunday. This is usually the only day of the week when I have nothing to do, at least for my job. I usually sleep in, but today I feel like I can’t do it. I’m already awake, thanks to that nightmare I had again. I toss and turn and wake up drenched in sweat, screaming from the things I see. Rose worries for me, and says it’s called post-traumatic stress disorder. The innocent people I’ve hurt and almost getting killed linger with me. Today, I remain silent after that bad dream, but I’m still a bit shaken up.

 

              I brushed my teeth and brewed some coffee. I made some for Rose, knowing she likes it strong. I scrambled some eggs, prepared toast, and even made waffles, since those are Rose’s favorite. I want our Sundays to be special.

 

              I put it all on a plate and brought it to her. She was just beginning to get up.

 

              “Rise and shine, Rosie,” I whispered to her, brushing my lips across her gorgeous face. She was an angel even when she woke up with her hair messy and her face free of makeup.

 

              She opened her eyes and smiled widely when she saw my presentation. “Thank you so much, Blake. Breakfast in bed? You charmer, what’s the occasion?” She kissed me back, and our mouths played around.

 

              “Because it’s a new day, and I love you,” I answered. I loved doing these sweet things for her, and she enjoyed treating me as well. These small acts of kindness kept our passion alive. After years of being together, we weren’t bored of each other. Seeing her after a while apart still made my heart skip. I missed her terribly when I was away from her for even a few days. Being alone again made me nervous that I might be alone for my whole life again. I knew it was a dumb thing to think, but sometimes I was sure I was sleeping and having a really long dream, and I’d wake up and be back in Detroit, still killing people for cash and working for thugs. Rose was my anchor, my sign, my assurance that my life was different now. I wondered if she thought of me this way too.

 

              “I love you,” Rose murmured into my cheek as she kissed me and felt my stubble. We kept kissing and feeling each other.

 

              “Eat up, your breakfast will get cold,” I told her, giving her a kiss on her forehead. I lay back on my side of the bed and drank my coffee, even though I knew this would aggravate Rose. She told me millions of times to never drink coffee in bed, worried that I might spill it.

 

              Sure enough, she gave me a dirty look. “What did I tell you about coffee in bed?” she asked with her mouth full of eggs and bread and in a voice she used with Jessica and Amber often.

 

              I smiled slyly back. “Didn’t your mom ever teach you to never talk with your mouth full?” It was fun playing around with her.

 

              Rose pushed me playfully. “Don’t change the subject!” She slammed her head back onto her pillow and sighed. “God, this is why we’ll never get married! You’d piss me off by breaking all the rules, and I’d always be stuck having to clean up after you!”

 

              For some reason, hearing about marriage was a punch to my gut. I sometimes fooled myself into thinking that we were already married. After being together all this time and being in love for so long, we weren’t actually married. I had no ring for her. I haven’t even proposed to her. Not because I’m afraid she’ll say no, there’s no way she would say no, but because I don’t know if it’s safe for us to marry. Legally, we weren’t a couple. We were just boyfriend and girlfriend. I hated using those words. They felt like words for teenagers. We were adults, a man and a woman who loved each other. We should be husband and wife.

 

              “Rose, you know that… you know why we really can’t get married, right?” My voice came out really soft, like a baby. I surprised myself by how I could be so weak sometimes.

 

              When Rose looked at me, she wasn’t smiling anymore. She was serious.

 

              “I know, Blake,” she said very quietly and firmly. “If we do tie the knot, we’d have to get a marriage certificate and all sorts of paperwork. I know what the process is like. We’d have to put our real names out there. The word would get out. We’d put ourselves at risk. It would undo everything we’ve built.”

 

              “Plus, who would we even invite?” I tried to lighten the mood.

 

              This time, Rose laughed. It wasn’t a fun laugh, though. It was bitter, and it made me feel worse. I wanted to give her a happy laugh. She knew what I meant. Moving every year didn’t give us much time to form bonds with anyone. It was also tough on the kids, who hated having to change schools, work hard to make new friends, and then lose their new friends right after they made them. We never got to blend in with the community. We couldn’t make friends, join clubs, or be normal people. Neither of us felt brave enough to ever invite people into our home. We didn’t have anyone else we considered close friends. Rose rarely ever talked to her friends and family ever since she met me, and I blamed myself. Maybe that was stupid, but I blamed lots of things on myself. I fucked up Rose’s life, I put her and her kids in danger, and I robbed them of their lives and the chance to be normal.

 

I sometimes fantasized what it would be like if I never met them. Maybe they’d be happy, living in a place they permanently called home, Rose would marry a nice guy, and I’d be dead and in the ground like I deserved.

 

“Blake, what’s wrong? You look awful. Did I say something?” Rose looked concerned and hurt. I must have let my feelings show.

 

I didn’t want to talk about it. I leaned over to kiss her, but she put her hands on my chest and pushed me back. “Don’t be like that. Tell me what’s on your mind. You always try to avoid talking.”

 

“It’s nothing important…” I tried to say, but Rose put her fingers on my lips to stop me.

 

“Bull. It’s important. I’ve seen this face before. You’re never going to cure yourself of it if you keep moping and hiding. I hate seeing you like this. Just talk to me.”

 

I could tell I had no choice. Rose was dead-set on making me share. I loved her forcefulness and bravery. It was just one of the things that made her so sexy and unique.

 

I collected my thoughts. “I’m scared, OK? I’m scared. I know you look at me, a big guy, and you probably think I’m a pussy for feeling scared, but inside, I worry every day. I know it’s stupid, but I actually sometimes think I’m living in a dream. My life today is so perfect, so peaceful, and so much better than I thought it could ever be. And it feels unreal to me. Sometimes I don’t think you and Jessica and Amber are real. And in one moment, if I’m not careful, I might lose you. I’ll fall down, or slip, or hurt myself, and I’ll wake up back in my old life. I never met you, and I’m still living on my own, being a thug. Killing people, wasting my life, dying someday from a bullet to the head and no one knowing who I am. I don’t want to wake up!” It was harder and harder for me to talk. My voice was straining and I felt tears flowing out of my eyes and down my cheeks. My throat was choking up.

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