Break For Him: A Possessive Mafia Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  Danny pounded his fists on the table. “God damn do I love this,” he said, tilting his head back and laughing. “Nothing better than the smell of blood and fear in the morning.”

  Coming from anyone else, I’d think that was incredibly lame. But coming from Danny, I felt a chill down my spine, because I knew he meant it.

  The men fell into a spirited debate among themselves about who was going to kill the most Jackals and I let them go for a few minutes. Leigh watched me with careful eyes and I wished I knew what she was thinking. This was a display of bravado and stupidity, but it was an important moment.

  I needed the guys ready. I needed them prepared to lay down their lives for me. My most loyal men—Rolan and Viktor—they were already down and already killing for me. But the others had to be convinced, at least a little bit. That was how it went when it became a life or death situation. I couldn’t expect them to rush headlong into gunfire without some reason to do it, and I needed this meeting to give them that reason.

  It was simple. I had to play up to their masculinity. Martin worried me, since the man was shrewd and smart, but he knew what I was doing and he’d fall in line.

  I’d handle him myself if he didn’t.

  I held up my hands for silence after another minute of laughter and drinking. Ivan and Igor shushed the room like librarians then gestured for me to take the floor again. I nodded my thanks then held my hands out toward Leigh, fingers pointed toward her.

  “You all might’ve noticed we have a special guest today.”

  “We couldn’t help but notice,” Camillo said. “Since you brought a little something for the table.”

  Some laughter, but most of the guys looked wary. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath then opened them again.

  “Come here, Cam.”

  He hesitated, still smiling at his own joke, then stood up. “What’s the matter?”

  “Come here.”

  He walked around the table, sauntering toward me with a grin. I waited until he was within range then slapped him across the face with an open palm.

  He stared at me, shocked. His cheek turned read and he let loose an animal growl, fist cocked back and ready to smash in my face—but Rolan stood up and grabbed his arm.

  “You fucking prick,” Camillo said. “What the fuck is with you and this bitch? What do you—”

  I slammed my fist into his face and felt the little bones in his nose crunch and snap. He grunted in paint as blood squirted from both his nostrils, staining his lips, chin, and shirt red.

  “I warned you,” I said. “I tried to slap some sense into you. But now you went too far, mother fucker.”

  Rolan released him and Camillo dropped to his knees, gripping his face, and bleeding on the expensive green and gold rug. I’d have to pay to have that cleaned ore replaced, but it was worth it.

  I stared at the rest of the men. “Leigh’s one of us now. I know you don’t like it and I know you all think a woman can’t be part of the crew. But she’s a partner in the pill game, and if you all don’t fucking like it, you can get up and walk the fuck out of here. You can follow Camillo and fuck off.”

  Silence. Everyone stared.

  Leigh took a breath, let it out, then smiled at the guys.

  “Nice to meet everyone.”

  The sound of her soft, girlish voice, mixed with the pained grunts of Camillo, and combined with the heavy, tense vibe around the table made every single one of my guys burst out laughing.

  She grinned at them and winked at me.

  I shook my head, smiling. Only Camillo didn’t laugh, since he was too busy trying to stem the floor of blood from his face. He returned to his seat and shoved a napkin up his nostrils, grunting in pain as Danny jammed his elbow into his shoulder.

  “Leigh’s taking on a lot of risk to help us move our product. She deserves a seat at the table as much as any of you do. I understand she won’t be out there killing on the front lines—but she’s already bled for me, more than some of you have. I need you all to get over your macho shit and accept her right now, because I don’t have time for you to be a bunch of weak, emasculated little man babies.”

  “Hear you loud and clear boss,” Ivan said. “She’s cool in my book.”

  “Girls, boys, I don’t give a shit, so long as we all make money,” Ignore added.

  “I’m glad I have your approval.” Leigh pasted a smile on her lips and leaned forward. “I look forward to doing business with you gentlemen.”

  Danny cackled. “Gentlemen? The girl don’t know us at all, boss.”

  “I’m a gentleman,” Viktor said.

  The room stared at him. He shrugged and smoked his cigarette.

  “That’s all I got for now. I need you all to get on board. More orders are coming down the pipe, and some of those order might be dangerous. Prepare for war, boys and girls. Now drink, eat, and don’t be a dick.”

  I sat down, kicked my feet out, picked up a glass of whisky, and drank it.

  Leigh stood before the guys could start talking. She raised her glass.

  “To the crew,” she said, “and to making a lot of money.”

  She got a good cheer from that. The boys drank back their whisky, and she slammed hers down her throat.

  I watched her carefully as she sat down and the boys went back to smoking, drinking, and playing cards.

  She shouldn’t have fit in this room, but somehow she did, or at least she was good at faking it. I had to admit, I was impressed by her performance. Camillo wanted to intimidate and scare her, but she didn’t give him what he wanted, and that won her more points with the others.

  That was good. That was real fucking good.

  I needed harmony in the crew right now. If they started talking shit about having a girl at the table then things might start going bad, and with the Jackals breathing down my neck, I couldn’t have that.

  Leigh was here to stay. And they were going to have to accept it.

  I drank my whisky and let the night unfold, and when it was over and the guys left full of steak and drink and reeking of cigar smoke, I took Leigh back to my house, dragged her into my bed, and tasted her until the sun rose the next morning.

  20

  Leigh

  I stood at the front desk of my store and stared out the windows at the familiar view. Couples walked past, groups of young men laughed and pushed each other, old women in workout gear traveled in tight-knit packs, and the world moved along like it always had.

  The shop was different. I couldn’t make it look exactly like it used to and maybe I didn’t want that. I was starting fresh, starting a new life—and I needed a decor to match.

  I sold a few shirts in the morning, and around noon a guy came in wearing khakis and a button down. He leaned on the counter, looked around like he was searching for cops, then my eyes.

  “You got the best shirt in the world?”

  I smiled, nodded, and held out my hand. He plunked the cash down in my palm.

  I shoved it into a box under the counter, walked into the back, got his shirt with his pills in the middle, and handed them to him.

  He must’ve known the drill, because he took the shirt without comment and left.

  That was my real job. Sure, I sold my own products from time to time and that brought in money, but the pills were the real goal. Everything else was just a front.

  I leaned forward on my elbows and stared out the front window again.

  Just a front. Those words played through my mind all afternoon as a few more pill customers came and went, accepting their shirt without argument. It felt like my whole life was a front these days—a front for something else, maybe the thing I’d always wanted to be, the person I dreamed of when I looked in the mirror and pretended to see my future-self smiling back. When I stood in the shop and smiled and sold my shirts and handed out pills, there was a strange emptiness in my chest that I couldn’t quite define.

  And that disappeared as soon as I saw Owain again.

&nbs
p; I knew it was him. I didn’t want to admit it, even if I knew it, more and more with each passing day, with each passing night spend in his bedroom feeling his body against mine, his sweat on my skin, my lips on his chest—his hands on my hips. He was the thing keeping me in this, not the money or the power or the seat as the table, but him.

  Every time I got close to that truth, I had to shove it away. I couldn’t face it, not really. I couldn’t think about it and still rectify myself as the person I wanted to be or though I used t obe, as the girl with a brother and a mother—even if that brother was dead.

  I couldn’t picture myself as enthralled with a gangster, but I was, so much deeper than I ever imagined.

  The door rang as it slid open. I stood up straight, expecting a customer, but finding Rolan instead. He smirked at me and ran a hand along the shelf to his left, his fingers brushing over the t-shirts, until he got close to the front and stopped. He leaned up against the rack and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Place looks good.”

  “I hear you had a lot to do with that.”

  He shrugged. “A little bit.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Figured I’d stop in and say hello, since we’re equals now.”

  I gave him a tight smile. “Yeah? We’re equals in your eyes?”

  He smiled right back. “Owain says so at least.”

  “What’s with him and all of you, anyway?” I leaned forward on my elbows again and I caught Rolan’s eyes flip down to my chest. Fine by me—let him look, maybe it’ll keep him distracted and talking.

  “Not sure what you mean.”

  “Why do you all follow him? I could tell some of the guys weren’t happy about the war and all that stuff.”

  Rolan waved a hand. “You mean Camillo? Don’t worry about him. He’s always causing trouble. Just the kind of asshole he is, although that particular kind of asshole can be very useful in our line of work.”

  “No, I mean, how’d he become the boss?”

  “Ah.” Rolan ran a hand through his hand and hesitated. “It’s not a real interesting story. You want to hear it?”

  “I think so.”

  “He killed the last boss.” His eyes sparkled and he didn’t smile. I knwo right away that he wasn’t lying.

  “How’d it happen?”

  “A few years back, before the main crew splintered into these smaller crews, Owain was another one of the central figures in the whole thing. It’s hard to explain, but there was like this council of twelve guys with Hedeon at the top. Owain was on that council.”

  “So he was like a leader in the original group?”

  “Exactly. There was another leader, this guy named Frank. He built our crew originally, got the whole drug network set up. Owain joined up with Frank, and together they got the pill trade up and running.”

  “So why would Owain kill him?”

  “Apparently they got into some disagreement. I don’t know about what, but I do know Frank was stealing from the crew. Not a lot, but a little here and there, you know, getting high on the stash, pocketing a few hundred bucks when he wanted it, petty shit. Most bosses would let that kind of thing slide.”

  “But Owain wouldn’t.” I let out a harsh laugh. I could imagine how he’d react to something like that. It wouldn’t be kind and it wouldn’t be forgiving.

  “No, Owain wouldn’t. He got angry, really fucking angry, and I guess they got into some fistfight. You’ve never seen Owain fight, not really, but the guy doesn’t know how to stop until his opponent’s not moving anymore. I think he goes into it thinking that only one person was gonna walk away, and he always made sure it was the other guy.”

  “So he beat Frank to death?”

  “With his fists, yeah, beat him to death. Maybe didn’t mean to do it, since Frank was older and couldn’t take the beating like some younger guys, but still. Smashed his face in with his fists. Knocked all his teeth out and left his face a wrecked pulp. Even if he had survived, he never would’ve been the same.”

  I shook my head, trying to imagine it, and realized it wasn’t hard. Owain could be funny and kind and even gentle when his hands were on my body and he wanted me to feel a particular way—but the danger always lurked just below the surface, ready to manifest at any time.

  “I don’t get why the guys would let that happen, if Frank was their leader.”

  “People didn’t like Frank all that much. Owain’s got a way about him, you know?”

  “I do know.”

  “Sucks you in, huh?” He smirked at me and laughed. “Guess so, since he’s got you doing his dirty work.”

  “And paying me a shit ton more than he’s paying you.”

  “Fair enough.” Rolan pushed off the shelf. “Fact is, Owain’s got that something. Don’t know what it is, but some people are magnetic. They pull you into their orbit and don’t let you go spinning away even when you want to. It’s some cult leader shit, or maybe the shit politician’s have, I don’t know, but whatever it is, he’s got it out the asshole. Hard to ignore, even if you want to.”

  “I noticed.”

  “He’s fair though, Owain is. You follow the rules, you do what he asks, and he gives back in spades. He’d take a bullet for any one of us, and even though we don’t agree with everything he does—” He gave me a pointed look, eyebrow raised. “—we still respect him enough to go along with it.”

  “Thanks for telling me all that.”

  “Yeah, sure. You’d hear it all eventually. Might as well hear it from me.” He stretched and yawned. “Anyway I’ll be outside if you need me.” He walked toward the door then hesitated and looked back. “And hey, just a warning. The guys will accept what Owain says, but that doesn’t mean they like it. So be careful around them, especially Camillo, at least for a while.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  He shrugged and left. As the door shut, Owain appeared, said something to him, then stepped inside. I smiled at him, head cocked to the side as he approached.

  “How’s my favorite girl doing?”

  “I’m doing good. I was just talking about you.”

  “Telling the world how much you’re obsessed with me?”

  “Pretty much. Can’t keep you to myself.”

  He laughed, deep and throaty, and came around toward me. He out his hands on my hips and lifted me up then set me back down on top of the counter. I wrapped my legs around him as he pressed himself closer, running his strong, big hands through my hair, his lips inches away from mine.

  “I can keep you to myself, though,” he said. “Every inch of you, all mine.”

  “How shocking. A mobster that doesn’t like to share.”

  He chuckled again and kissed my lips gently. He lingered there like he wanted to breathe me in and taste me, and I loved when he did that—it always made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the room, like no matter how much he’s around me, he just can’t get enough.

  “What can I say, I’m a cliché. And yet you love it.”

  “I’m starting to get used to it at least.”

  He kissed me again then gripped my ass. I grinned and kissed his neck, but before things could go any further, he pulled me back down from the counter and stepped a few feet away.

  “I came here for a reason, and unfortunately fooling around with you isn’t it.”

  “Maybe you could change your mind and come into the back with me? I can put up a closed sign.”

  “Tempting.” He took a deep breath then met my eye. “I’m going on a hit tonight and I want you to come with me.”

  I frowned, taken aback. “You want me on a hit?”

  “I want you in the car, at least. Nowhere near danger.”

  “Why?”

  He paced across the room toward the door, looked outside, and paced back. I could tell something was bothering him, but I knew better than to push. He’d spill it eventually, all I had to do was be patient.

  Which surprised me. I was learning a
bout him, how he functioned, without realizing it.

  “I’m afraid they’re coming after you. Clifton knows you’re important to me, and I think you’re going to become his primary target.”

  “You don’t want to leave me alone.”

  “Exactly. I’m bringing all my guys except Martin on this one, and I can’t leave only one old man behind to guard you. So I need you with me, as close as you can be.”

  I pulled at my hair, tugging it straight then letting it go. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. Like I said, you’ll stay in the car, away from the danger. But I need you there. I need to know you’re safe.”

  I nodded slowly. “If that’s what you need, then okay. I’ll come with you.”

  “Good.” The relief on his face was surprising.

  “What if I had said no?”

  “Then I would’ve figured out some way to convince you.”

  “And if you couldn’t?”

  He tilted his head slightly. “I won’t force you into anything, my little diamond. We’re beyond that now. Partners, remember?”

  “Right.” I released my hair and let a nervous laugh bubble up from my gut. “Partners. And you wouldn’t violate that.”

  “You know me. There are rules, and I follow them, even when I don’t want to.”

  “True, very true.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, blowing out my cheeks. “Do I need to do anything? Should I wear all black?”

  “Just be ready. I promise, I’ll keep you out of harm’s way.”

  “I trust you.”

  He lingered for another moment then turned and stalked to the door. I watched him go with a strange feeling in my chest, caught halfway between terror and longing, and unsure of which way I wanted to lean.

  It didn’t matter. I’d do what he asked and I knew it. After all this, Owain had somehow proven himself to me, and I knew that he would do anything to keep me safe. If he said bringing me along tonight was the only way to ensure nothing bad would happen to me, then I’d go, no questions asked.

  It was strange, feeling this way for a man I knew was dangerous—and yet it also felt natural, like falling asleep in a warm afternoon. It was easy to get close to him, and the more I resisted it, the more I realized I couldn’t stop it.