Loving Marcus (Mafia Generations Book 1)

by Roxanne Greening

  The room was not much to look at. It contained a dresser and a bed on some sort of metal platform. The bed didn’t have a head or footboard, and the room only had one window with a green and blue plaid curtain.

  “Where are we and where are you taking me?” I demanded.

  I cried out when Slade pulled me harder. I stumbled as he yanked me again.

  “My safehouse,” he said.

  “Is that where we are or is that where we’re going?” I asked him. My voice was filled with confusion and not an ounce of fear. I was a bubbling mess inside, but I didn’t let it boil over.

  Like a festering infection, it lurked just beneath the surface.

  “We’re at my safe house, and no they have no clue where it is,” Slade smiled at the thought.

  My heart sunk deep and my brief moment of hope was squished under his size eleven boot.

  “Where are we going?” My voice came out as a whisper.

  “I thought you would want to clean up,” he said quietly.

  My stomach churned violently at his words. Was he going to watch me strip and shower? Was he going to do other things? Oh god. I fought the sob as it tried to wiggle its way out.

  “Please, don’t do this,” my voice pleading and was filled with fear.

  He just looked at me blankly. His face and eyes were devoid of any emotion. I tried to read his intent but found there was nothing there.

  “What happened to you?” I whispered.

  “Your father,” he says coldly.

  What did he do to him? My father wouldn’t let him live if he felt Slade was a threat.

  “He taught me to kill and gave me my first taste of blood. He let me think that you would be mine and then pulled the rug out from under my feet. Every bloody inch of my life was taken from me!” He screamed the words.

  My brows furrowed. My father wouldn’t have let him live. I was missing something.

  “How are you still alive?” I asked him quietly.

  “I was being rehabilitated,” his voice was filled with humor at that, “Like a fucking robot.”

  “My father liked you, Slade. There’s still a chance...” I started, but he cut me off.

  “Listen to me, Willow. He will be proud of what I’m doing. He will thank me for saving you from the enemy.” It sounded like rantings of a true believer.

  My feet dug into the smooth tile floor. I didn’t want to go any further.

  “What are your intentions?” I asked him hesitantly.

  I wasn’t so sure I wanted the answer to that particular question. Replaying the question over in my head I winced as it sunk in. I sounded like a woman from the dark ages. Almost like I was speaking to a would-be suitor.

  “Slade….” I started.

  “Hush, Willow. Go get that cut cleaned up,” he told me as he released my arm and nudged me towards the bathroom.

  My eyes widened as I realized that he wasn’t following me. All the fear of him touching me swiftly washed away. I was a fool to think I was safe, even slightly.

  I turned the knob on the bathroom faucet and watched as the water rushed out of the spout and went down the drain. Then I saw a washcloth folded neatly next to the sink.

  I reached for it and placed just a folded corner under the warm spray of water. My eyes met my own reflection in the mirror and I brought the wet cloth to my face. I pressed it gently onto my sore head.

  My eyes watered as pain radiated out from where the gun hit me hard. I continued to press it firmly on my cut, while I tried to remove as much of the blood as I could without removing the scab.

  Chapter 26

  Marcus

  The house was dark, and there was a soft glow coming from a lamp in the corner. I could see two shadows close together and my fingers clenched together causing my sharp nails to dig into the calloused flesh of my palms.

  “Breath,” Cole muttered.

  I turned and looked at my brother who was on my left and Lark stood quietly on my right. Darkness filled me as anger and hate swirled within me.

  “How the fuck could you let this bastard live?” I demanded.

  Lark’s eyes darkened, and the man I knew people feared more than death stared me down.

  “He’s family,” he replied.

  As if that makes it any better.

  “She wouldn’t be in there if you killed him!” I growled.

  “Watch your fucking tone, or I’ll remove your tongue,” Lark’s voice was quiet and lethal.

  “Shut the fuck up both of you!” Cole snapped, “This isn’t the time for your bullshit.”

  He was right. Shame and guilt burned through my anger. My eyes were once again transfixed on the silhouettes of Slade and Willow.

  They were too close. My teeth ground together he was almost touching her. Moving closer I peered into the slit between the sheer like curtains.

  The air left me in a rush. The coolness around me made my breath come out in little white puffs. Cole tapped my shoulder, and I forced my eyes away from them and looked at him over my shoulder.

  He gave me a nod and a slight tilt of his head indicating he headed towards the front. I looked over at Lark and grumbled as I realized that he was missing altogether.

  I decided to take the back door, which was closest to Willow, and closest to the fucking bastard I was about to gut. Inching backward I made my way to the back door while my palm caressed the hilt of my gun.

  The blade that was pressing against my thigh was what I really wanted to use. I turned the knob and took a deep breath. This was tricky as fuck if he had a weapon, Willow could die. Fuck, he could snap her neck before I get within reach.

  I pushed the door slowly open and inched into the house. I didn’t bother closing it behind me. No need for unnecessary steps or sounds.

  The air left my lungs in a rush as my world titled and I all but fell off its axis.

  Chapter 27

  Willow

  I watched as Slade placed a plate in front of me. I wanted to push it away and refuse to eat, but my stomach was cramping. How long has it been since he hit me? How long since I last ate?

  “How long have I been here?” I asked him. It was a harmless question.

  “Twelve hours,” he replied as he set about eating the chicken and potatoes on his plate.

  My hand moved on its own and quickly stabbing a piece of bite-size chicken and stuffing it into my mouth.

  It’s been twenty-four hours since I’ve had food.

  “Good?” He asked.

  My eyes strayed from my food to his face. I nodded because words have failed me. He was acting like this was… What was this exactly? A meal between friends? A meal between captor and his captive?

  I watched in amazement as the food disappeared quickly into my stomach. It didn’t protest in the slightest, which was something that shocked me.

  Time was slipping away. Where were they? Why haven’t they come for me? Was I truly trapped here…?

  “Finished?” His voice was gentle.

  Looking at the now empty plate, I nodded. He quickly cleared our plates. I stood debating what I was going to do? Really what could I do?

  Fingers wrapped around my arm and pulling me into the living room. I watched as he tensed and scanned the room. Something changed, even I could feel it.

  Time dragged and it felt like hours. I blinked and then screamed as his fingers wrapped around my throat. He twisted me, so my back was pressed against his front.

  He had me in a way that all he needed to do was twist his hands and my neck would break. My eyes slammed shut as the world grew colder. I thought I was terrified before?

  “Don’t fucking move,” Slade growled.

  “I didn’t,” I whispered back. How could I move?

  “I mean it, Valisk. Move a fucking inch, and I’ll break her pretty neck.” Slade’s voice was dark and full of promise.

  My eyes shot wide as the name sunk in. I looked in front of me and met Marcus’s dark blue eyes. His was full of anger and a hint of f
ear.

  “What do you want Slade?” Marcus asked.

  “Your head,” he replied coldly.

  Marcus nodded in agreement. “Does that mean you’ll let her go? If I promise to let you kill me, will you let her go?”

  My eyes filled with tears. Marcus dead? No! Oh god, I couldn’t picture a life without him in it.

  “You die, she’s free,” Slade told him casually like they were discussing the weather and not Marcus’s death.

  I watched as Marcus raised his gun and dropped it. Slowly he kicked it towards us. I watched as a knife followed it and then another knife.

  “Let her go and take me,” Marcus begged.

  Slowly, the pressure on my throat lessened.

  “Willow, take a step to the side and keep going out the front door. Once he’s dead you’ll be safe,” He sounded so reasonable. He’s fucking crazy.

  “Do it now, Willow,” Marcus demanded. His eyes filled with love and resignation.

  Oh god, I was going to watch him die. Sidestepping, I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  “I love you,” I whispered to Marcus.

  His eyes darkened, and he said softly, “I love you too baby.”

  Just like that the tears that I was holding fell and kept falling. I felt gutted and peeled like someone had taken a spoon to my insides and scraped me raw.

  Not taking my tear filled eyes off Marcus, I slowly backed out of the room. Once I couldn’t see him anymore, I turned and ran. The front door opened, and a hand wrapped around my mouth.

  “Shh, I’ve got you,” Cole’s breath whispered past my ear.

  I sagged into him briefly before pushing away. Quickly Cole transferred me into my father’s arms. His strong embrace calmed me but only marginally.

  “You need to help him. Please, daddy,” I cried against his chest.

  The sound of a gun firing had my body tense and everything in me crumbling. Did Slade kill him?

  Chapter 28

  Willow

  The air was cold as we surrounded the grave in front of us. The rain drizzled around us, and the black umbrellas were up trying to keep as many of us dry. It was a good showing. The families were all around looking down at the black coffin.

  Tears filled my eyes, and they slowly crawled down my chilled cheeks. In my condition, it was hard not to tear up. Stupid hormones. It always hurt to lose someone, even if the bastard deserved it.

  Marcus had stabbed Slade repeatedly. The gunshot I heard was Slade’s. It was his twitchy finger firing at a wall. Marcus wrapped an arm around me as his fingers splayed over my slight baby bump.

  “Are you feeling okay, baby?” His voice was gentle.

  I nodded as my eyes cast on my cousin. She let out a big fat sob of pain. She was in love with the man that was slowly being lowered into the ground.

  Normally we would have departed before the coffin was lowered, but I needed to make sure he was really going to hell where he belonged.

  I know he wasn’t all bad. He thought he was saving me. It was something that I needed to remind myself of frequently. But, I couldn’t get over the nightmares that have been plaguing me over the last few weeks. He was going to steal my baby.

  The police ruled it an accident. The body had been badly burned due to the house fire that he was trapped in. No one questioned the lack of smoke in his lungs or the small nicks that were carved into his bones.

  “Come on baby, let’s get you home,” Marcus was slowly directing me to my car. My uncle Jason stood by the open door and stopped me.

  “I know he fucked up...” he started.

  “It’s okay, Uncle Jason. I know he was like a son to you,” I told him quietly.

  I was sorry my uncle was going through this. Jason Carter found Slade on the streets when he was just a child at the tender age of seven. He took him in and raised him.

  I couldn’t picture having to do what Jason just did. Burying one’s child. I slipped into the car and pressed my lips to Marcus’s as he settled in next to me. The ride home was filled with silence.

  Epilogue

  Seven months later….

  I felt like I was wetting myself. Small drizzles of liquid were leaking from between my legs. Jumping from the bed as fast as my extended stomach would allow, I rushed to the bathroom.

  The trickle slowed and stopped so I went back to bed only for it to start again. Oh god, what was wrong with me? Then the pain hit, and it felt like someone wrapped a vise around me and started squeezing relentlessly.

  “Willow?” Marcus’s deep rough voice reached my ears.

  His hands started rubbing my back in gentle, comforting circles.

  “It hurts,” I whispered in misery.

  Marcus was on his feet with my hospital bag in one hand and keys in the other.

  “I’m going to start the car,” he said quickly and disappeared.

  If it didn’t hurt so much, I would have laughed. Before I could move an inch, he was back inside and quickly picked me up. One arm went under my legs and the other around my back as he carried me to the car.

  “I’m too heavy,” I told him through the pain.

  “Never baby,” he said sweetly.

  After hours of labor, and me screaming through the pain, a little boy was nestled in my arms smacking his lips together.

  I looked over at Marcus, and his arms were full with our little girl.

  “Angelica Valisk,” I told him before yawning.

  “I called your father,” he said as his face was filled with love and joy.

  “He’s probably out there scaring the nurses and wearing a hole through the floor,” I said with a laugh.

  “You want me to get him?” he asked me quietly.

  Looking down at our son I thought about it.

  “Joshua Valisk,” I whispered.

  “Baby?” Marcus asked.

  “What do you think of their names?” I asked instead of answering his question.

  “You’re making him wait, aren’t you?” Marcus laughed.

  “The names are perfect, baby,” He replied as he placed a kiss on my forehead.

  “Get some rest Willow, everyone and everything will be fine,” He told me as he placed another kiss on it.

  “I love you,” I tell him as my lids closed.

  “I love you too, baby,” he replied as his voice started to sound far away.