Filthy Secrets: A Steamy Romance Boxset Collection

by Nova Rain

  “Yes, mommy,” she snorted in derision and turned the key in the ignition. I laid back, the grumble of the engine filling my ears. Ava threw me a sly glance and set off, the camera on the dashboard revealing the wet road up ahead. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing, Donny. It means the world to me.”

  “Knock it off, darling,” I demanded, my tone stiff. “FYI, I’m not doing this just for you. Joe loves your friend. He’d be devastated if anything happened to her. Imagine Michelle in the passenger seat when, all of a sudden, one of those guys you owe money to starts chasing after you. All it would take is a stray bullet, and she’d be gone.”

  “You’re right, but still, I appreciate it very much,” she confessed, her lips curling into a sweet smile. “Anyway, how did you find out about me? Who told you? I forgot to ask last night.”

  “A little birdie told me,” I stated, unwilling to share this information with her.

  She turned her head right to face me. “Letting me know wouldn’t hurt.”

  “Just get us there,” I requested, my voice dropping down an octave. Her response to this was a long, deep sigh, which was a relief. Had she insisted, I would have to tell her about the series of events which led me to that strip club. And while its name wasn’t a secret, the fact that I was behind Hackman’s death was. I didn’t know how she’d take that, and frankly, I didn’t want to find out.

  Chapter Seven

  Ava

  A little birdie? Talk about withholding.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. Donny wasn’t a white-collar guy, working a nine-to-five job. He had spent his life in the shadows, trusting only a handful of people. It was this secrecy that had kept him alive over the years. He didn’t speak unless he had no other choice.

  Twenty minutes and plenty of silence later, we arrived at the parking lot of “Smoking Lace.” My BMW rolled between two rows of parked cars as I scanned the lot for a spot. Finding none, I turned around the corner, but the situation didn’t change at all. Alas, Donny’s prediction had come true. So late on a Friday night, the club was full. However, as I neared the exit, I discovered that I didn’t have to park anywhere. All five men I owed money to had gathered around each other, just fifteen yards from the main road.

  “Keep them busy ‘til I get the money,” Donny advised, stepping out of the car.

  “Hey, fellas,” I said, maintaining a serious expression.

  “Hi, you sweet-ass thing,” Martin Willows uttered, a sleazy smile on his face as he bypassed the others. “You know you didn’t have to pay me the whole forty-seven grand. A quickie would get you a really good discount. Ten percent.”

  I parted my lips, ready to give him an angry comeback, but, just then, I caught a black sports bag landing in front of Willows, out of the corner of my eye. I whipped my head around at the sound of a shotgun cocking.

  “Say more bullshit like that, and I’ll turn you into a six-foot piece of Swiss cheese.” Donny growled, aiming at him.

  “Oh, crap…” Willows murmured, his eyes widening with fear and surprise. “Take it easy, big fella. I just want the money, okay?”

  “Then take it!” Donny shouted, maintaining a firm grip around the handle of his weapon.

  Inching forward, Willows kept his gaze up on Donny, the rest of them looking on in silence. He bent down and reached out for it while I held my breath. Grabbing the handles, he spun around and rushed among the other four.

  “Hey! Wait!” Tom Cavanagh cried out, speeding off behind him, with the others following his example. I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling much lighter than I did just a minute ago.

  “Very nice,” I praised, shifting my gaze back to Donny. “I’m impressed.”

  “What did you think I was going to do? Be nice to them?” He spoke in an abrupt tone, heading back to the trunk.

  I resumed my seat, considering ways to thank him. Needless to say, seducing him was the first thing that popped into my mind. It was much easier than he expected in such a public place. Why? Because there was a left bend further down the parking lot, which led to a service entrance. Food and drink suppliers used it during the day to bring cases of alcohol and fruit in to the club. That driveway was big enough to accommodate trucks. It would have no problem hiding my car for a bit. Yet, as much as I wanted this, I couldn’t take any chances. Donny was upset. Furthermore, he had already shot me down once. He would snap at me if I tried again. So, I started the engine again, and leaned across.

  “What are you doing?”

  Shutting my eyes, I laid a soft kiss on his cheek, the short hairs of his beard pricking my skin.

  “You’re a lot better man than I thought you were, Donny Falcone.” I assumed a soft voice, gazing up into his eyes. “I owe you. If you ever need a friend, give me a shout. I’ll be there.”

  He let out a long exhale and averted his gaze from mine. “Get us out of here.”

  I didn’t speak. After all, it was clear that he wasn’t in a mood for a discussion. Instead, I drove off and out of the parking lot, happy to have had him by my side. I was used to facing all those morons alone, but it was great to have some backup for a change. And man, Donny did a wonderful job in getting rid of them. He forced them to shut up and showed them who was in charge. In a way, I was sad that I hadn’t taken him with me to past meetings. He would have saved me a lot of trouble and anguish.

  Chapter Eight

  Ava

  The next morning, I woke up with a big smile on my face.

  It was so weird… I wasn’t a morning person. More often than not, I would need a half hour and a cup of coffee just to start speaking to anyone. Even then, I wouldn’t say much, other than four or five words at a time.

  Nonetheless, that Saturday morning was different. I called Michelle and told her I would be dropping by the office later, because I had something important to share with her. My confused friend accepted and so, I left my house, eager to narrate what had transpired between me and Donny.

  The short drive to the old building on 35th street gave me some time to analyze why I was in such a festive mood. The reason was simple. It was called “Donny Falcone.” There was a certain quality in him. Some people might call it “nobility” or “generosity.” Personally, I had another name for it.

  Humanity.

  He and his friends had gone to extreme lengths to rob that truck. They needed five lifetimes to make that insane amount of money. And what did he do? He decided to give away part of it, because he believed my debt would endanger me and my friends. For a guy who shot people for a living, this was beyond incredible. To him, Joe meant more than just an old partner in crime. Without a doubt, Donny would rather lose some of his money, than jeopardize the well-being of his friend. If anything, this gesture demonstrated how much he valued the people closest to him.

  I had no illusions. I knew I didn’t fall into that category. Henchmen can’t afford to form emotional attachments with anyone, and if they do, there’s a steep price to pay. Donny was actually trying to protect Joe, but to me, it didn’t matter. In my opinion, he was a different person now. He was a better man than I’d given him credit for.

  The city welcomed me back into its cold embrace as I made my way towards the building. Striding past an elderly couple on the sidewalk, I spotted Joe’s massive figure hopping onto the curb. His sullen expression froze the smile on my face. Concern crept within, forcing me to forget what I meant to share with Michelle.

  “Good morning,” I said, my voice coming out hesitantly. “You look worried. Is there something wrong?”

  “I just had a huge argument with Michelle about you,” he explained, his tone weaker than usual. “This morning, I told her you two should have a nice, long talk. I didn’t say ‘why.’ She’s been pressuring me since breakfast, but I didn’t break. I thought I should give you a chance to explain yourself.”

  “Thank you,” I nodded in appreciation, waves of cold sweat washing over me.

  How did you forget?

  I aske
d myself that question, entering the building. Its answer was much too complicated. I had focused my attention on last night. I’d been preoccupied with different scenarios concerning the transaction. Above all, Donny had nested in my brain, not allowing me to think of anything else, other than his qualities.

  Michelle was on the phone with someone, taking notes when I knocked on her open door.

  “Mr. Myers, I’m afraid you’re a little too expensive,” she said, gesturing me in. “Eleven hundred dollars per square foot is just too steep. Most tile roof professionals charge seven hundred. I don’t see why I should pay all that extra money. Let me get back to you.”

  “I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself,” I remarked. “I mean, it’s only been four days since the bombing. It’ll be weeks before you get money from your insurance company.”

  “Well, there’s no harm in being prepared,” she argued, strolling around her desk. “I’m guessing you ran into Joe on your way in.”

  “I did,” I confirmed with a nod. “He’s a good man, Michelle. I know I haven’t been…”

  “What did you just say?” Her high-pitched voice interrupted me. “Where did that come from?”

  “From the fact that he gave me a chance to talk things through with you.” My tone rose in volume and nerve. “I wasn’t this nice to him. Anyway, uh…” I paused. “I broke my promise to you, Michelle. I started gambling again in June. I quit after New Year’s, but my debt had been piling up. So…” I looked away from her. “I came up with a terrible solution. Four of the girls at ‘Smoking Lace’ can’t perform without a high. So, I sold them some cocaine. It wasn’t much, just two grams a week each. I’m sorry, Michelle. I really am.”

  “C-cocaine?” She stuttered, her face falling in disbelief as she stared at me.

  I nodded assent, my eyes glued to the hardwood floor. I felt a violent slap on my cheek, my head rocking to the side. I felt the sting of her fingers and her palm, unable to look her in the eye.

  “You stupid bitch!” Michelle growled, her eyes dark with rage. “Cocaine? Really? Because you couldn’t stay away from goddamn poker tables? What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I’m sorry,” I sniffled, tears blurring my vision. “That was a terrible thing to do. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m so sorry.”

  “You know, I’ve had enough of this,” she groaned, shaking her head with disgust. “You’ve been saying you’ll quit for what? Five years? You keep saying ‘this time, I mean it,’ ‘I won’t let you down,’ ‘this thing has destroyed me,’ but the outcome is always the same. I can’t do this anymore, Ava. It’s just too stressful.”

  “Look, you’re right to be mad at me,” I spoke in a shattered voice. “I just didn’t know what else to do. You…”

  “We’re done,” she interrupted, flashing me a cold look. “You’re fired.”

  “What?!” I sobbed, tears falling from my eyes. “You can’t do this.”

  “Watch me,” Michelle declared, her rigid expression breaking my heart. “I’m trying to become something, Ava. I need people I can trust. I can’t have drug dealers around me.”

  Three sentences…

  Cold. Emotionless. Like we had been business partners for two or three weeks. Not like we’d been friends for sixteen years.

  This was our “goodbye.”

  It felt like one. Flames of sorrow engulfed my heart, her words hurting more than her slap. Just like her, I needed people I could rely on. Michelle had delivered a nasty blow to my entire life. She had bombed the financial security she promised not so long ago. The misery of unemployment was just around the corner.

  I headed out of her office like someone had shackled metal balls to my ankles. It took me more than a minute to cover a distance of eight yards. In that time, I hoped that I’d hear her voice again. She didn’t have to give me my job back. A few words of sympathy would do. However, she didn’t give me those, either. This eerie silence, this indifference was perhaps the last nail in the coffin of our friendship. Clearly, Michelle had forgotten what it was like to have a mountain of debt. She had forgotten how getting by on scraps could be.

  Chapter Nine

  Donny

  Today’s task?

  Supervise weapons loading process in the Bronx.

  That was it.

  Under the cover of darkness, Bryan and I had to be at Maltese’s warehouses and watch a bunch of guys carry crates into trucks. Lots of coffee, chit chat, and jokes helped pass the time while those people worked their asses off. Honestly? I liked it. It was a clean, easy job. The only downside to it was the cold. Yet, it wasn’t anything like the fast-paced stuff I was used to. There was no thrill. Nothing in it got my adrenaline pumping. We didn’t chase anyone, and no one chased us. If I hadn’t been involved in that pursuit the other night, I would be starting to forget what that rush felt like.

  Loading process over, Bryan dropped me off outside the grocery store in my neighborhood. I planned to stay in and cook something quick. This was one of the upsides of working for Maltese. Having time to myself and avoiding takeout. I liked pizza and burgers, but eating that crap all the time demanded more and more workout. I’d have to work twice as hard in the gym to get rid of all that fat.

  With two bags in my clutches, I strode along the sidewalk. A white cat jumped off the garbage can in front of me as I approached it. When I left it behind me, the view of the parked car outside my building brought back last night’s frustration. It was Ava’s silver BMW.

  I walked parallel to it, deciding to give her an earful. She couldn’t just drop by anytime she wanted. But, as I closed in, the sound in the air caused me to think twice: a low, almost inaudible weep, followed by sniffles. Ava’s head was resting on the steering wheel, her back shivering and flexing.

  “Did somebody die or something?” I asked, setting the bags down on the ground.

  “Michelle fired me this morning,” she said, amid another series of sniffles.

  “Shit…” I whispered, before gripping the door handle. “Come on out.”

  Despite my request, she stayed put. I reached in and eased her wrist away from the steering wheel. Luckily for me, she took the hint and exited the car on her own.

  “It’s the coke, isn’t it?” I presumed, picking the bags back up. “The reason you were fired.”

  “Yeah,” she uttered in a faint tone, using a tissue to wipe the tears off her face. “I’m sorry, Donny. I didn’t mean to bother you. I just had nowhere else to go.”

  “Save that for inside,” I suggested, heading for the elevator.

  Damn drugs… It didn’t matter if you used them or not. Even being around them was enough to ruin your life. Ava had done more than just be around them. She sold them to strippers for some extra cash. Was that money worth this disaster? Only she could answer that question.

  Unlocking my front door, I led her to my couch and went to the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. How about a drink?”

  “Just some water, thanks,” she requested, seating herself.

  “You look like you could use something stronger,” I told her, pouring water into a glass.

  “If I start drinking now, I’ll probably drink everything in your liquor cabinet,” Ava stated, propping her elbows on her thighs. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not an alcoholic. It’s just one of those nights where you…”

  “Try to numb the pain,” I finished her sentence, offering her the glass. “I know the feeling. So, why me? Why didn’t you go to Helena’s place? North Haven is too far for you?”

  “That and the fact she’s at work,” she replied, leaving the empty glass on the table. “Look, I don’t want to be an inconvenience. I should go.”

  “Don’t,” I requested, sitting down beside her. “It’s not like you’re ruining my plans for a crazy night out or anything.”

  “You must think I’m a terrible person,” Ava assumed in a wobbly voice, staring into the void.

  “I was never your biggest fan,” I confessed, leanin
g my side against the back of the couch. “You’ve disappointed me lately, but who am I to judge? Desperate people do desperate things. I’ve been there, too.”

  “I wasn’t just desperate, Donny,” she disagreed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was stupid. God, I was so stupid…”

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t think Michelle should have fired you,” I spoke my mind, my tone mellower. “You guys are supposed to be friends. You don’t kick a friend when they’re down. Is there rehab for gambling?”

  She heaved a sigh and then lay back. “Yeah, there are treatment centers.”

  “Then she should have taken you to one,” I pointed out. “Laying you off is just too cruel.”

  “I don’t blame her,” Ava assumed a softer tone. “I’ve been trying to quit since late 2014. Michelle just ran out of patience.”

  “Maybe, but she shouldn’t have treated you like that,” I added, noticing trails of tears down her cheek. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Then let’s cook,” I suggested, rising up to my feet. “I’ve got beans and pasta. Which one do you prefer?”

  “Either would do just fine,” she said, her voice returning to its normal registers.

  I opened the cabinet over the counter and pulled out a white bowl, reaching into the bag for the tomato sauce. But, before I could do anything else, I felt her big breasts pressing up against my back. She snaked her arms around my waist, her hands filling my view.

  “I was thinking about something a little bit hotter,” she whispered, her index finger bumping into the button of my jeans.