The Hitman's Desire: A Mafia Romance (The Silent Family Book 1)

by T Steele

  I hurriedly pour my cereal, almost forgetting the milk before walking back to my seat at the table.

  A foot nudges me under the table and I glance up at Liz eyeing me as if to say, “You got some splainin’ to do.” I quickly look away from her to eye everyone else, only to find them all already staring. Their eyes ping pong between John and I, then to my father. When John scowls at them, though, they get back to their plates.

  My relief is only short lived when my father says my name.

  I sit back in my chair and look up at him and I’m suddenly filled with anger once more.

  My dad looks away before clearing his throat. “I hate to do this to you, but—”

  “I can’t perform tonight, I know.” I cut him off, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “Anything else?”

  Again, I feel the weight of everyone’s stare and I want to yell “Boo!” just to see if they’ll jump or not.

  “Well, no, I guess not. I’m sorry. I know you enjoyed it last night.”

  “She was fucking killer,” Liz butts in, and I manage a small grin for her.

  My dad doesn’t take his eyes off me and continues, “I think it’s best if you just stay home for now.”

  I nod, feeling the heat on my cheeks from anger and embarrassment.

  “Also,” he continues, clasping his hands on the table, “Ryder and Eli will stay here tonight and John will come with me.” My father smiles at John like a proud father. A smile that instantly falls when I bang my fist on the table.

  “No!”

  My father’s head whips to mine, and he lowers his chin so he can stare down his nose at me.

  “What do you mean ‘no’?” my father asks angrily. “Last time I fucking checked, I was the Boss here.”

  Watch your words, Ruby, I think to myself. I glance at John and he’s calmly staring back at me which relaxes me a fraction.

  “I’m used to John babysitting me now.” I look to Ryder, Eli isn’t at the table, and shrug. “No offense.”

  “I need John at my back tonight. The enemy will be back, I’m sure. Since we killed three of their men.” My eyes go back to my father.

  “Why are they even after us? What did you do to make them this fucking mad?” I seethe.

  My father’s jaw tics. “That’s not your concern,” he grits out. “I’m just trying to protect you now, Ruby.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. The fact that people keep trying to kill me made me think that I was involved. I guess I misunderstood. My bad.”

  My father smooths a hand down his face, and I relax my clenched fists on my lap in an effort to calm down, but I want to keep going back for more. I want to scream at him and hurt him and show him what it’s like having a daughter who doesn’t follow his every word.

  “Why did they kill her?” I ask.

  Again, I’m aware that there are others at the table, but my rage has made me blind to where all I see is red. It’s as if a red strobe light appears over my father’s face pointing to him, saying: This is the one to blame. This is the one who deserves your hate.

  “Because I stole her from them! Are you happy now? They kidnapped her. Back in the day. Why? I don’t know, I guess because they could. She was never supposed to be a part of this life but—” he cuts off shaking and trembling with rage, sadness, regret? Maybe a mix of all three. “She fucking got thrown into it anyway and when I saw her fear one night when we were dealing with the Russians, I knew she was going to be their slave and something inside my coldblooded heart fucking snapped. And. I. Took. Her.”

  My eyes fill with tears and I blink quickly, trying to get rid of them. How did my mom have this whole other traumatic life I never knew anything about? I hated that I didn’t know who my mother really was. She seemed so boring, in the best possible way, when she was alive. She was a receptionist at the hospital near where we lived. She went to work and read books and crocheted and was in bed by 9pm.

  “When she got pregnant with you, she said she didn’t want her daughter living the way she had. She wanted you to have a normal life where you’d be safe, never knowing anything about the mafia and she almost got her wish. But with as much bad blood as we have with the Russians, they never forgot that I stole something of theirs.”

  “How did they know about me? How did they find us?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” he spits. The chair scrapes against the floor as my father swiftly stands. “John will go with me tonight and that’s final.”

  John doesn’t look at my father. Instead, he keeps his eyes on mine, letting me decide and I nod. “That’s alright, John. You can go with him.”

  When John gives a subtle nod, I feel the mood shift in the room. John Russo just took an order from me instead of my father.

  Because everyone here knows that if I would’ve asked, John would’ve stayed behind.

  I glance at my dad and he looks taken aback. His eyes dart back and forth between John and I as if wondering if he’s in an alternate universe. Then, he shakes his head, and when he asks John to follow him back to his study, I suddenly feel nauseous. Wondering if my dad is already suspicious, if John should even be alone with him, but then I think back to the story John had told me. He’d taken a knife for my father at the ripe old age of eleven and I feel like my father couldn’t possibly be that cold-hearted and merciless, could he?

  There’s a soft knock at my door. “Come in,” I say.

  John enters, shutting the door behind him. He walks to me in long, quick strides and wraps me in his arms. “Are you sure you’ll be alright tonight?”

  I sigh against him. “Yes.” No, I want to say. But how could I not be fine? I’ll be bored out of my skull sitting here, having nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs.

  The three words I confessed to John in confidence earlier are on the tip of my tongue and I want to say them again. Of course I’m wondering if he feels the same. I don’t know how to bring it up, though, and I’d rather not suffer the embarrassment.

  The thought of down playing it comes to my mind, but I don’t want to do that, either. Just because it may make me feel better, doesn’t mean it’s fair to John. I think the reason I’m feeling so insecure and love starved has to do with what’s been going on lately.

  John pulls back and he looks at me softly. “Listen, Ruby. About earlier. I understand if you felt like you had to tell me that after that story I told you—”

  “Wait, what?”

  John shrugs with a sad smile. “I didn’t want your pity after telling you my sob story. I understand if you felt obligated to say that after hearing ever—”

  I bring his lips down to mine, silencing him. His mouth responds to mine eagerly like this will somehow be our last kiss. Like whatever I’ll say next will confirm his fears that I did just say ‘I love you’ out of pity. If it were anyone but John, I would’ve been mad. But I know how he feels about himself.

  I break away from our kiss. “You’re going to have to learn to trust me and listen to me when I tell you things. I’m not going to lie to you or play with your feelings.”

  “In order for my feelings to be played with, I must first have some to begin with.”

  I roll my eyes and then cup his face in my hands. I try to put as much sincerity in my voice as possible when I speak. “I know this is hard for you, but I know you care about me, too. And deep down, I think you love me and I think a small part of you knows I’m being honest.”

  It’s the weirdest thing—at first his face looks content, almost peaceful, but then it changes and all emotion is wiped from his face and he bows his head, closing his eyes.

  “Ruby, you’re so fucking out of my league that we’ll never be on equal ground. I’m practically a serpent in hell reaching out for just a glimpse of an angel. I’m only going to bring you down with me. I ruin everything I touch.”

  I flinch at his words. Hurt and sadness and anger fester inside of me. “Stop it,” I snap. “If you think so highly of me, then you should know I wouldn’t st
oop so low.”

  John straightens. “I . . .”

  “No, listen.” I put a hand up and cock my hip out. “You’re not some broken piece of garbage, John. You’ve been through horrible things and I hate that you had to go through that, but you’re not defective or broken in anyway. You’re just a little bent is all, and I love you that way. You never have to be perfect for me. Nothing and no one can live up to those standards. But the most important thing is that there’s nothing you can do about it. All your bent pieces fit perfectly with mine, and I’ve already fallen in love with you. It’s new and exciting and scary, but it’s real and I’m never going to be able to change the way I feel about you.”

  John lets out a harsh breath and this time when he kisses me, tears spring to my eyes because he’s communicating what’s too hard for him to say out loud. He loves me, too. He’s trying. He’ll cherish me. Always.

  There’s a knock at the door and John starts, jumping away from me so fast, I’m wondering if he actually teleported. His chest is heaving and he jams his fingers into his hair. He hadn’t heard the footsteps of someone coming and it’s shaken him—I’ve shaken him.

  He swiftly walks over to the door before opening it.

  “John?” my dad’s voice filters through the room questioningly.

  “Coming, Boss.”

  John’s voice is neutral again and you would never know what just went down between us. I, however, have to pick my mouth up from the floor so that I’m not gaping like a fish.

  My dad’s head peeks in and we stare each other down for a long time.

  Finally, he clears his throat. “I’m so sorry, Ruby,” he whispers before shutting the door.

  “You got any nines?” I ask Ryder.

  Ryder sighs, making sure to be as dramatic as possible indicating that this is the last shit he wants to be doing. “Go fucking fish.”

  Eli, Ryder, and I are playing a card game because there’s nothing else to do and since my father has strictly forbade me from so much as taking a piss in private, it seemed like our best option to pass the time.

  I pull out my new phone and scroll through Facebook, even though I have no friends on there. I still decide to stalk Daphnee a bit without sending a friend request, even though I’m dying to.

  Minutes after John and my father left for the casino, Ryder and Eli had appeared in their place. They’d come bearing presents. I guess my father felt so guilty for everything that went down, that he’d gotten me a new, top of the line iPhone. This version wasn’t even out yet, but I wasn’t dumb enough to ask how he’d gotten it. Ryder handed it to me saying, “Here’s your guilt trip gift from Daddy, princess. Don’t look at any porn or anything. It’s being monitored by the Boss.”

  “Dammit! I love watching porn.” Eli giggled while Ryder glared, but I was too busy staring at the phone. Daphnee was the first thing to pop into my mind. I knew I couldn’t bring her into this life—but it would ease my worries if I could at least check on her through social media. Even though I didn’t know if I could resist the temptation of reaching out to her. I missed her terribly. As awful as it sounds, she was part of the pain John had been fucking away, but my guilt is eating at me, and it feels like I’m grieving a new person. One that isn’t even dead.

  I feel the weight of Ryder’s stare on me, and I glance up only to be proven correct. He stares at me with narrowed eyes as if he’s just waiting for me to fuck something up.

  I smile cheekily. “Should my first Facebook status be: ‘party at Ruby’s big, bad mobster daddy’s house. BYOB!’?

  Eli laughs loudly and Ryder bares his teeth at him. “What?” Eli asks, wiping a tear from his eye. “She’s funny.”

  Ryder smoothes a hand down his face. “You need to get your dick wet.”

  I form my mouth in a perfect O making an “oooo” sound as if I just came up with the best idea. “There’s a sink in kitchen. Go on, go run your dick under the water.”

  Eli slaps his leg, laughing loudly again.

  It all happens in a matter of seconds, but seems as if everything is in slow motion. Eli’s face is still stretched in a smile when blood oozes from the newly pierced hole in his head.

  His head bangs loudly against the table as he’s propelled forward from the impact of the bullet and then I feel myself being thrown onto the ground. Ryder’s hard body covers mine and then his hand covers my mouth and the loud shrieking stops. I was screaming. We’re under the table we were sitting at just seconds ago. My body shakes violently with fear and then I feel cold steel being slid into my palm. My eyes widen at the gun in my hand, and Ryder puts his finger to his lips for the universal sign of “be quiet”.

  He brings his mouth to my ear. “Help is coming. But we need to get to the basement. Stay behind me.”

  When I do nothing but blink at him, he gives me a slight shake. “Do you understand? I need you to take this gun and fucking survive.”

  I nod frantically and Ryder suddenly throws the table on the side as a cover and scoots it along as we crouch behind it, crawling to the stairs that will lead us to the basement.

  Then, there's laughter and it’s the most horrible sound I've ever heard. I can’t help the small scream that erupts from my throat at the sound cutting so suddenly through the silence. After the window was shattered from the gunshot and Eli had collapsed, I didn’t hear anything else. I stupidly thought we had some time, or I was at least hoping we did.

  Oh God, Eli. I think to myself. Everything happened so fast.

  “The tables a good touch,” says a sinister voice. “Very action movie-like.”

  I hear a few others chuckle and my panic rises causing my chest to burn with the speed in which I’m trying to suck in breaths.

  Ryder’s glancing around the room and he’s fuming, but there’s a calculated and focused look in his eyes when they land on me.

  “You’re gonna have to run for it, Ruby. I can hold them off for a little while. They’re not going to let me survive. But at least if I get a few shots in you'll have a better chance of escaping.”

  I grab onto his arm, my nails digging into his skin. “Don’t you dare fucking leave me.”

  He closes his eyes for a moment and that’s when I see a sliver of fear before it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared. “This is how we live, Ruby. Right now, you’re the most important person here and I cannot let them take you. So you fucking run as fast as you can and shoot behind you. Keep shooting untill you run out of bullets and even then you keep fucking going.”

  My whole body trembles and I don’t even know if I have the power to stand, let alone run from several men with guns. But I nod, nonetheless.

  Ryder gives a curt nod. “On my signal,” he whispers.

  “Whatever plan you’re forming behind that table isn't going to work. You have to know that,” the man says with laughter in his voice as if he knows a secret we don’t. The sound rakes across my skin causing my shoulders to bunch with every new word spoken, and I imagine seeing actual claw marks forming on my flesh. I look at my arm just to be sure.

  Ryder pulls out another gun and a knife, from where I don’t know, but I’m thankful he’s loaded down with some weapons.

  “Now,” he mutters and I take off and don’t look back.

  I’m sobbing but the adrenaline rushing through my veins allows me to continue running.

  Gunshots reverberate throughout the house causing it to shake and tremble, there’s pounding footsteps behind me and I’m so overridden with terror that I almost miss the turn down one of the many hallways.

  My feet skid and slide, but I catch myself, turning and racing into said hallway. I run and run until my throat is dry and burning. There’s a stitch in my side, but still, I keep going.

  Finally, I find one of the secluded entrances to the elevator that barely anyone uses. I can’t hide in a bedroom and I couldn’t have made it outside, which likely would’ve only had more men waiting for me.

  I don’t want to get on the elevator. I’l
l be stuck on there with only one way out, but I don’t know a better way, or at least, my clouded mind can’t think of one.

  I dash inside the elevator punching the lowest ground level and I hear footsteps as they run after me. I frantically push the button that signals the doors to close.

  It finally shuts, but not before I get a glimpse of a masked face. It was all white with nothing else on it, similar to a plastic grocery bag. All I could make out of his features were dark eyes and the accents from earlier.

  The Russians are here.

  The elevator descends, and I try to gather my thoughts and focus on my breathing. I wish so badly that I could have just one sip of water to help my aching throat and side. Then, a whole new terror strikes me when I reach the living room floor: the glass walls allow me to see what’s happening and I quickly wish they hadn’t.

  There are six masked men standing around a bloodied Ryder on the floor. When they see the elevator coming, they turn as one and shoot through the glass. I’m on the ground covering my head and curling up in a ball the moment I see them raise their weapons.

  The elevator stops, but the doors don’t open. I peek out from under my arm and realize not only have they shot through the glass, but the buttons and control panels as well. I’m stuck about twelve feet in the air on an elevator with no way out.

  I remember the gun Ryder gave me. I lift it and aim. I’ve never shot a gun before, but I do manage to hit one man. He goes down with a cry holding his stomach. Invigorated by this, I keep shooting. There’s no way I can kill so many of them with no actual fighting experience, but still, I aim and shoot from my crouched position on the elevator floor.

  I’m screaming so loudly that eventually my voice goes hoarse and faint.

  Everyone rushes for cover and they move around the living room trying to get closer to the elevator. I’m wondering why they don’t just shoot me already—but then I realize why none of them are shooting back.

  They must want me alive for now.