Filthy Secrets: A Steamy Romance Boxset Collection

by Nova Rain

  On the eve of the heist, I watch her sleep, hoping that I’ll get to witness that peace on her angelic face in the next day or two. I don’t like arguing with her. It’s killing me – lying beside this glorious woman and not being allowed to touch her. It’s like being locked outside wonderland, because you can’t remember that password that allows you in. And this frustration is another reason why I can’t get any shuteye. The main reason is my tension for what my friends and I are about to do. We’ve robbed banks before, but we’re complete rookies at this. We’ll be out in the open, exposed to any police cruisers that might be passing by. A shootout with the cops will destroy the “perfection” that we’re striving to achieve. Things will get messy, and they’ll get a lot messier, should we take out a cop. The manhunt that will follow could lead to a disaster, worse than I have ever imagined. But I can’t afford to think like this. I need to be careful and focused, not let my mind roam to stuff that could go wrong. Checking the time at the clock in our room, I rise from bed. As I put my shoes back on, my cell phone buzzes with a text from Bryan.

  “The package will be in place within the hour. We’re waiting for you outside.”

  I then leave Michelle a note on her nightstand:

  “I’ve not let you down this far,

  I won’t this time, either

  Love,

  Joe.”

  I’m not the type of guy who talks to women like this. I’m not good at expressing myself through writing; yet, I hope that those few words will help me get back in her good graces. With a heart pounding with anticipation, I step outside. Bryan is standing outside of the passenger door, while Donny has just boarded the van. A boom of thunder tears through the night, causing the ground to tremble and vibrate beneath my feet. Thick raindrops pelt down around me during my stride towards the vehicle. I hop up and into the van and slide its backdoor shut, Donny waves at me from behind the driver’s seat.

  “You should have left her back in Shandaken,” he scolds, gesturing me to the seat across from him. “That chick’s getting under your skin.”

  “Maybe,” I shrug, bringing my tired gaze down to his. “Let’s get down to business.” I suggest as Jimmy drives off. “How do you know where the truck is, kid?”

  “I’ve hacked into its GPS tracker,” he announces, glancing at me over his shoulder. “By the way, there are GPS trackers in the bags, too. You should get rid of them.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” I say with a nod. Other than the occasional “yes” or “no” replies, this is the last sentence I seem to utter in the van. Donny and Bryan don’t speak much, which is funny, because Donny sometimes won’t shut up. I guess I should have anticipated this, though. I’m not the only one overwhelmed by anxiety. The importance of tonight seems to have affected them, too. This is what we’ve been waiting for all our lives. A chance to do something for ourselves; something that will help us get out of the crappy world we’re in, and start living like human beings.

  I don’t know about them, but it’s not luxuries I’m after. They’re out of the question – for the time being, anyway. Buying fancy cars or anything else out of the ordinary can raise red flags, and I don’t want to draw the cops’ attention. I just need to be on my own, without answering to anyone. The last time I felt like that was twelve years ago, when I used to sell stolen, high-end cars. I was too young to appreciate that feeling back then. All I could think of was rushing off to the nearest strip club and spending that money on strippers and booze. Now though, my priorities have changed. And I’d love to offer my number one priority the life she deserves.

  Twenty minutes later, Jimmy parks his van on the side of a tree-lined road, the rain still lashing against it. Leaving the windshield wipers on, he grabs his tablet from the dashboard. Donny is craning his neck over the driver’s seat.

  “The truck just entered Highland Park,” Jimmy announces, urgency speeding up his voice. “It should be here in two to three minutes.”

  “Let’s roll,” I say on an exhale, shoving my hands into my gloves. I raise my mask over my head and pick up my rifle from the floor, my breath quickening. I crouch out of the van, a shot of adrenaline running through me like an electric current. Donny and Bryan jump outside and turn around, before making their way towards the trees on either side of the road. I stay behind the van, waiting for the truck to draw near. A mixed scent of elm and wet soil is lingering in the air, raindrops bursting onto and soaking the asphalt. My friends hide behind the trees, and waves of cold sweat are pouring over me.

  “Keep it together, Joe; for Michelle.”

  At the end of my thought, her gorgeous face flashes into my mind, arming me with the fierce determination that I need. As the truck’s high beams light up the road up ahead, I’m ready to do whatever it takes to make my dreams a reality. I walk out, cocking my rifle. I lift it up to eye level, and press my eye to the night vision scope. The tall vehicle begins to slow down, its driver in my crosshairs. Moving over to the right, it rolls to a gentle halt, its lights going out.

  “Out of the truck! Right now!” My voice rumbles like thunder, rising above the sound of the diesel engine. The driver clicks his door open with fear-clumsy fingers, and steps down, his gazed locked with mine. His colleague follows within seconds, but he looks more annoyed than frightened. He’s glaring up at me, the buckle on his belt shining in the ample light as he leaves the truck behind.

  “Do you know who you’re stealing from, asshole?” he grumbles, his feet finally bolted to the ground. His tone and his posture are telltale signs that I’m not dealing with a security guard. He might be wearing the same, gray uniform as the driver, but there’s no doubt in my mind. Either the stocky guy in front of me works at “Red Rock Casino,” or he’s been working for its owner for a long time.

  “Talk to me again, motherfucker,” I growl, taking a short step forward. “Come on. Do it and I’ll smear your brains all over the fucking windshield.”

  He presses his thin lips together. Donny and Bryan come hurtling past him and the driver.

  “You’re good to go in three, two, one…” Jimmy speaks through the intercom.

  A double, simultaneous click later, and the two of them yank the rear door open, Jimmy makes a “U” turn. He stops his van just five feet behind me, the taillights reflecting on the white aluminum of the armored truck.

  “Get on your fucking knees,” I command, maintaining eye contact with the stocky guy.

  “Do as he says,” he advises the driver, complying. “You’re going to regret this, you piece of shit. We’ll find you. And when we do, you’re going to wish you’d never been born.”

  His last sentence makes my blood boil in my veins. I don’t even allow Eric to address me like that, let alone a scumbag like him. Drawing one of my shoes back, I kick forward. My shoe strikes him on the chin, sending him back and against the hood of the truck, Donny and Bryan run back with large bags of money in their grasp. I part my lips, willing to swear at him some more, but just then, I put that thought aside. I didn’t come all the way from New York to exchange words with my victim. He can go on and on, but that won’t change reality. That’s what he is: My victim. My crew and I are stealing his money, putting him in a very difficult predicament. He’ll have to answer for this to someone a lot richer and more powerful than him.

  The back of Jimmy’s van lowers with each bag that Donny and Bryan throw inside it. I can feel the fabric of my shirt sticking to my skin, drops of water seeping through my mask and drenching my hair.

  “According to my facial recognition software, those two have pretty impressive records,” Jimmy informs me once more through the intercom. “Armed robbery; manslaughter; racketeering; illegal gambling: you name it. They’ve both been working for Dennis Howard, owner of the casino for well over fifteen years each.”

  “You don’t know what you’re doing, you fucks,” the guy snarls, spitting out blood. “You just dug your own…”

  A sharp noise behind me interrupts him, grabbing my attention.
Still, I don’t have the time to look back. A bullet is lodged into his forehead, jerking his body backwards. It lands flat and hard on the ground, a trail of blood dribbling out of the wound. One more, sharp sound later, and the driver suffers the same fate, his eyes staying wide open as his head hits the ground hard. A swift glance to my right is enough to tell me what’s happened. Bryan is still aiming his gun down at them, a drop of water rolling off the edge of the silencer.

  “Bryan; what the fuck?!” I bark out, releasing my rifle to grab him by the throat. “I had it under control! Why the fuck did you shoot them?”

  “Leaving two criminals as witnesses? Are you kidding me?” he growls, his face twisting in confusion and anger. His words act like a wakeup call. I didn’t want this to be bloody, but there’s a huge difference between two, everyday people and a couple of scumbags like them. I let go of him, the vapor from my breath shooting out of my mouth. I rush back into the van, and find Donny ripping tiny, black devices off the bags. Without a moment to waste, Bryan and I join him. Using hammers, we smash them to little pieces, keeping an eye out for any cops. It looks like Jimmy’s idea to pull over that armored truck at this particular spot was brilliant. Other than the lampposts at the exit of Highland Park, there’s no light around whatsoever. No cars are passing by, no pedestrians, nothing. And the only sound I can hear is the rain, tapping on the roof and the sides of the van.

  “Go!” I command, breaking the last one of those GPS trackers. We kick the remains out of the van, its tires screeching as Jimmy sets off. I lean my head back against the wall, closing my eyes, my heart still racing in my chest.

  “Yeah, bitches! Woo hoo!” Donny cheers, holding two bags of money up in the air. I burst out laughing, tilting my head forward to face him and Bryan. We high-five each other, whistling and staring down at the millions we just stole. Millions… That word echoes in my brain, as if I’m trying to convince myself that they’re ours. I can’t bring myself to believe it just yet. Maybe it’s the adrenaline that’s still coursing through my system. Maybe it’s the long years of poverty that don’t allow me to take this in yet. Either way, we are putting distance between the armored truck, and us, heading for a brand new life of dignity.

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  Joe

  When we reach our motel, Donny puts the idea of counting the money on the table. Still, to me, that’s not an option. It’s 6:15am; we won’t have the cover of darkness for much longer. It will take us hours to count all that cash. More than that, taking those bags in our rooms would be a huge mistake, because there are cameras upfront. So, Jimmy leaves his van in an empty field behind the motel, right where he left it last night. Before heading back to Michelle, I have a word with Jimmy. Since he’s such a skilled hacker, I ask him if he can hack into the camera in Santone’s laptop. Catching him talking about his plan to murder his own sister is a good way of convincing the other Don’s about his intentions. Jimmy accepts, but he can only do it once we’re back in New York, because there’s no Wi-Fi in our motel.

  Absolutely exhausted but with a heart filled with bliss, I step into my room. I find Michelle standing in front of the bed, watching something on TV. Without uttering a word, I halt beside her. It’s a news report about the heist. There’s footage of the bodies of the two security clerks lying dead on the street, with the armored truck parked behind them.

  “I guess I don’t have to ask you where you’ve been, do I?” She wonders, her voice wobbly as she turns to face me.

  “I was just about to tell you,” I murmur, gazing down into her eyes. “We don’t have to worry about Santone anymore. We haven’t counted the money yet, but it’s more than twenty-five million. That’s enough to last us a lifetime. We can leave the country whenever you like.”

  “How can you say that?” Michelle whispers, her eyes widening. “You just killed two people, for God’s sake.”

  “We had to,” I retort, using a stiff tone. “Those two weren’t exactly saints. Their rap sheets were as long as my arm.”

  “So what?!” she exclaims, tossing a ferocious glare up at me. “Who gave you the right to play God?”

  “I didn’t!” I yell, biting my lower lip. “Bryan…” I exhale. “Bryan shot them, and I agreed to it,” I go on, lowering my tone. “Anyway, why do you care? I just pulled off the heist of a lifetime, so that we could finally get rid of Santone.”

  “Because, those two men had families!” Michelle cries out, blinking back tears. “Children…” she gasps. “Who are you to take away their fathers?”

  “I don’t remember you complaining when I blew up Decker,” I utter, my voice monotonous while I struggle to hold on to my tempter. “He had children, too.”

  “You don’t understand, do you?” She whispers, two tears toppling off the edges of her eyes. “You just ruined what we had, Joe. That money you stole’s got their blood all over it. I can’t touch it,” she adds, her breath shortening. “And I can’t even look at you right now.”

  “Decker: Michelle,” I repeat the name of her wannabe killer, hoping to get an answer from her. “I killed him for you. Why…?”

  “That was different!” she sobs, narrowing her eyes to slits. “He was about to kill me! He left you no choice.”

  “No, it wasn’t!” I grumble, adrenaline flowing through my veins yet again. “I protected you from him. Today, I protected us from two witnesses that could identify me.”

  “Oh, my God…” Michelle sniffles, putting her hands on her temples.

  “I’d do anything for you,” I breathe, leaning over towards her. “I’d kill anyone for the woman I love. The only woman I’ve ever loved.”

  “I love you too, Joe…” she whispers, dropping her arms, more tears rolling down her face. “But…”

  “But that’s not enough, is it?” I say, my voice cracking as I avert my gaze from her.

  Although I’m dying to hear what she has to say, Michelle doesn’t speak. Instead, she tears her gaze away from my face, and brushes past me, the sound of her heels on the hardwood floor audible over her sobs. Her slow footsteps lead her to the door, while I feel my heart bleeding in my chest. Gripping the knob, she whips her head around and looks back up at me with her reddened eyes.

  “Goodbye…” she says – One word. That’s all that she can give me: a single word for all the sleepless nights, the agony, the pain, the tension, and the danger that I’ve had to endure for her. Michelle doesn’t have or doesn’t want to offer me anything more. I want to run after her and pull her back, look her in the eye again and tell her how much she means to me. But I know her enough to realize that it will be for nothing. I could talk to her for hours and hours, and I still wouldn’t be able to change her mind. The sound of the rain sweeps into the room when she eases the door open. I squeeze my eyes shut, unwilling to see this play out till the end. The end… What I was hoping would come in fifty or sixty years from now, when we would both be old and surrounded by our children and our grandchildren, is right here. And when she shuts that door behind her, I feel like a grenade has exploded in my chest. It takes away the strength from my muscles, pulling me into a world of despair, a place filled with darkness and shadows from my past. Michelle was the light that had been keeping them out of my heart and soul. Her scent, that feminine scent that used to intoxicate me, is now a poison that runs through my veins, threatening to snuff the life out of me. The memory of the night when she cried in her bar is starting to haunt my mind. Those big, playful eyes shed tears for me. It wasn’t our first kiss, but it was the first time that I held her in my arms and I felt her body heat against my skin, without any regret. And that warm sensation has just abandoned me, shoving me into a cold prison of loneliness.

  I fall to my knees, clenching my fingers into fists, tears rising up in my eyes. Tossing my head back, I scream out, my voice causing the windows to rattle and vibrate. The echo has yet to fade out when I drop my face into my hands. My motivating force, the reason for me to aggravate a powerful Mafia boss, the one wom
an I’ve ever fallen for is on her way back to New York without me.

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  Michelle

  Damn you, Joe… Damn you for making me believe in you. You had been like an angel on my shoulder; my fierce protector; the man I could rely on. Why did you do that? They weren’t your first victims; but, in my mind, you didn’t have to execute them. Honestly, I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that you killed them or the fact that you didn’t have any regret? Because, that’s what I was able to figure out during our last meeting. I’m pretty sure that if you could turn back time; you wouldn’t change anything. The only thing that would be different is it might be you pulling the trigger, instead of Bryan.

  My return to the Big Apple is perhaps the longest and most grueling trip I’ve ever embarked upon. I board the bus from Dallas to the airport, and I can’t even look at anybody. I just gaze out the drenched windows, recalling his handsome face. Those corners of that clean-shaven jaw which gave me chills every time we kissed grip my heart in a vice. I can feel plenty of pairs of eyes on me, but I can’t hide my emotions. Tears flow freely out of me, and I don’t even want to hold them back. I don’t like to express myself in public, and yet, Joe’s memory doesn’t leave me much choice. My gut-wrenching pain brings Ava’s statement back to my mind: