by Gabi Moore
Against All Odds - A Gripping Secret Baby Romance
(Bad Boys After Dark, Book 9)
Gabi Moore
Contents
About the Author
1. Chapter 1- Evelyn
2. Chapter 2 - Jack
3. Chapter 3 - Evelyn
4. Chapter 4 - Joseph
5. Chapter 5 - Evelyn
6. Chapter 6 - Jack
7. Chapter 7 - Evelyn
8. Chapter 8 - Jack
9. Chapter 9 - Evelyn
10. Chapter 10 - Mickey
11. Chapter 11 - Jack
12. Chapter 12 - Evelyn
13. Chapter 13 - Joseph
14. Chapter 14 - Jack
15. Chapter 15 - Evelyn
16. Chapter 16 - Joseph
17. Chapter 17 - Evelyn
18. Chapter 18 - Jack
19. Chapter 19 - Evelyn
20. Chapter 20 - Jack
PARANORMAL
Manipulator of Elements - A Young Adult Urban Fantasy
Faerie Rift - A Paranormal Romance
STEAMY BAD BOY ROMANCE
Break
Surrender
Doing It Faster
Damaged
Unholy
Rough (a full-length novel)
BAD BOYS AFTER DARK - The COMPLETE Series
BAD BOY BONUS BOOK (a full-length novel)
WHAT HAPPENED NEXT? Bonus Chapter: Janie
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 by Gabi Moore. All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved. Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
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About the Author
Hey there! I’m Gabi Moore and I’m on a mission to love like I’ve never been hurt, dance like nobody’s watching and write sex scenes like my mother didn’t raise me right.
I write about some of the naughty things I’ve done, and some of the naughty things I still wish I could do. Some days, I forget which is which.
I like coffee and men with accents. And lately, I’ve been trying to give up dirty puns …but it’s hard.
So hard.
PS: You’ll find additional steamy bonus books and the complete Bad Boys After Dark series in the table of contents!
- Gabi Moore
Join me on Facebook:
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Chapter 1- Evelyn
I can keep a secret. And that’s the only reason why I am where I am today.
Ever watched those nature documentaries, the ones where two alpha males go at one another, fighting it out all horns and claws, trying to find out who’s the toughest and strongest so he can settle down and enjoy all the territory?
Well, I hate those documentaries.
I always thought, why is it the males who are called “alpha”? Why don’t they tell you all about the females those dumb male animals are fighting for, or say how they’re really the top dogs, when you think about it? I’ll tell you why – because those documentaries are made by men.
Not that I care much, honestly. The more big-ego, hot-shit alpha males there are to keep one another distracted, the easier it is for me to get what I want, quietly, behind the scenes. The trouble with being a woman is that you can’t play these big boy games. But then again, the good thing about being a woman is that you don’t have to.
The man on the other end of the line was possibly one of the biggest big shots in this whole city. The entire organization jokingly called him “Mrs. Robinson” because except for an elite few, nobody actually knew who the hell he was.
I knew who he was, though. A smart man, smart enough to stay out of the lime light, Angelo Valenti was one of those old-school mafia types you just don’t get anymore. He was cold. He played the long game, and completely obliterated his enemies, but I could respect him. And he wouldn’t have placed me in the upper ranks I currently dominated unless he didn’t have a little respect for me, too.
“You sure they’re not just bluffing?” I asked. I didn’t want to question his judgment, but we had been tricked before, and I was wary of letting it happen again.
“I want you to go down there, Evie,” he said. “Take Jack with you just in case.”
I knew that I would be sent down to the warehouse for Jack’s safety as much as he was sent for mine. Fine. I guess I could give up my Saturday evening to scare off some low-level street goons and, maybe, there’d be a little side bonus in it for me.
“Sure thing,” I said.
If he trusted his sources, I trusted them too. If there’s one thing I knew about this organization, it was that it was riddled with snitches and spies.
He hung up.
I had never actually seen Mrs. Robinson before. But that’s OK. Like I said, the most powerful people are always the most well-hidden. I flicked on my bedroom light and scanned around for my jacket. As I tucked my .22 into the waist band of my tights, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Not bad.
Good Italian genes give you a leeway of around 5 years or so when it comes to aging, I swear, but even still, I was getting on in years. A month ago I had found a tiny crinkle lines at the corner of my eye when I smiled. But then, I don’t smile all that much, so, problem solved I guess.
I never liked drug deals. In my experience, they were always about scared kids holding things up or some random cowboy trying to make a point when we all had business to tend to. Our business works so beautifully because we know how to manage and contain shit like that. We dabble in a bit of everything – drugs, women, weapons – but our strength is that we’re built on a system of compartments. Each compartment has a sub-manager. And when you put the hot-shit guys in positions like that, they get to feel like they’re running the show… the people who are really running the show aren’t distracted by any petty street-level drama, and everyone gets what they want.
Or at least, that’s how it’s worked all this time. Maybe I’m getting old, or maybe things really are different these days, but I don’t like the way the business is headed. Angelo Valenti’s son was a real piece of work, for starters. And managing his compartment for him was starting to take up more of my life than I was happy with. But that was OK, too. After more than ten years, I was on my way out. Sometimes, the only way to get out of a game is to play by the rules right till the end.
I yanked out my phone and gave Jack a call.
“Mrs. Robinson wants us at the warehouse,” I said as soon as he picked up. “He thinks there might be trouble with the kid’s new shipment. He doesn’t want the deal to get nasty.”
Jack took his time with a slow sigh.
“OK, stay put. I’ll be over in ten,” he said, and hung up.
I looked at my reflection again. It was a shame, what was going to happen to Jack, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the opportunity while I had it. I quickly grabbed a lipstick on my dresser counter and swiped on a layer of cherry red. I cracked my neck on either side, did one last scan of my untidy apartment and then waited patiently for Jack to pitch up.
Women can rise in this “industry” if they’re persistent and have the stomach for it. To succeed in this business, you need unflinching focus, smarts, and just a little bloodthirstiness. I think most women, whether they know it or not, are already deeply bless
ed in those areas.
Women are tough.
My grandmother birthed four of her nine children in a Sicilian spinach field during the war. She survived three husbands and the countless young bucks who came in there with their polished shoes and their hair triggers. I came from a long line of women who were tough as burnt nails. I was no exception.
Stupid men with king complexes would always be the norm. But women like me would always find new ways to work around that. In any case, this is a long way of saying: I never liked drug deals.
By the time I heard Jack’s car idling outside the front of the house, I felt mildly irritated at having to give up my Saturday evening. Again. Little Joey Valenti was making a mess again and big daddy needed me to swoop in and clean it up. The more things change, huh?
I grabbed my keys, zipped up my black leather jacket and pressed my lips together. I locked up, walked over to the car and took my time getting in. I wanted him to really have a good look before we had to head off to the warehouse and focus on whatever crap we had to when we got there. My jacket creaked as I settled into the passenger seat and looked over with a faint smile. He smiled back, then swung around, whipped the car into reverse and had the tires screeching as we pulled off and headed over.
Jack was …hot enough. Most importantly, he was there. Quiet guy, company-man, the kind that are thick on the ground in an organization like this. He had a broad jaw, a small mouth, and eyes that seemed like they were always focusing on something happening a few hundred yards off. He didn’t say much, ever, but turns out, I was in a stage of my life where what I needed from a man wasn’t exactly his conversation skills.
“Nice night,” I said to nobody in particular.
I had been trying to get this guy into bed for weeks now, and the only progress I had made so far was to get him to actually answer me occasionally.
“Yeah,” he said, and kept driving, steely eyes glued to the road ahead.
I adjusted my weight to ease the butt of the gun jabbing into my hips.
“Hey, do you know a lot about this new stuff? The stuff on the shipment?” I asked. Like blood from a stone, I swear.
He briefly flicked his gaze over to me but then back at the road again. I knew that in that split second he had noticed my tightly fitting jacket. He knew. I knew that he knew. But I was getting impatient.
“Nah. They say new stuff, but it’s all the same shit to me.”
There was something really sexy about how quietly you could speak in a car on the road late at night, and still be heard. Or maybe I was just really horny.
“Oh come on, really? You’re not even a little bit curious?”
“Nope.”
“They say it’s an aphrodisiac, though,” I said. “That it makes sex super intense. Like, you almost get to read the other person’s min.”
“Sex should be like that anyway,” he said quickly, and readjusted his hands on the steering wheel. I smiled. At least this Jack could be a little unpredictable.
I leaned back into my seat and watched the street lights race past my vision.
“You spoke to Mrs. Robinson?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“He told you to call me?”
“Uh huh.”
I could make out his strong hands tightening and loosening around the steering wheel. It was a fun power play, seeing all these thugs and hitmen slowly realize that in this nasty little web, I had superiority over them, and that yes, I spoke to the illusive Mrs. Robinson. Quite often, actually.
“What’s he like?”
“Excuse me?”
“What does he sound like?” His eyes never shifted from the road.
I gave a dry little laugh.
“Well, that’s a secret, isn’t it?” I said, and pressed my crimson lips together again.
And that’s the only reason why I am where I am today.
I can keep a secret.
Chapter 2 - Jack
It wasn’t that she was an older woman. I mean, that had something to do with it, but it was more than that. It’s not that she intimidated me, either. She was a hair over five feet and couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds.
But she still felt dangerous somehow. It still felt like a tease, when she came at me with her cutesy small talk and climbed into my car wearing those tights that looked like they were painted onto her legs.
I didn’t have time for drama. Fucking one of the key ladies in the organization seemed almost suspiciously easy – so I hung back. It might sound strange to hear a hired hitman talk about principles, but even I have my limits. Mixing business and pleasure is just one of those don’t-shit-where-you-eat type fundamentals that I didn’t have the guts to mess with.
Still. She looked fucking hot.
We drove in silence, her leather jacket squeaking every time I made a turn. I had been to this warehouse a few times before, but never like this. Never with just that lone street lamp on the corner and that ominous blackness wrapped all around it. I took a moment to scope out the front entrance – it didn’t look like anyone had been through here recently.
We exchanged looks.
The shipment was most likely still inside. But then, they were probably still on site too. These ass-clowns weren’t exactly known in the industry for their devotion to squeaky clean ethics. We had worked with them only once before, and, from what I can gather, they were a bunch of slime balls who were always looking for a juicy corner to cut. Little Joey wanted to open up new lines, but from what I could see, he was the only one who thought it was a good idea.
We sat in silence together, in the darkness, listening to one another breathe.
“Our job is to quickly find the threat, neutralize it, and make sure we have the shipment. We might even have to transport it back ourselves,” she whispered, her eyes fixed on the huge corrugated door that led into the main body of the building.
I had heard rumors of how ruthless Evie could be, even a little crazy, but I had yet to see any proof for myself. It was all well and good to prance around in leather and pink lipstick, but I wasn’t sure how all of this would play out on the ground, where it counted.
When you have loads as big as ours coming in and out of this city, there are bound to be small fish nibbling around, trying to get a bite. And it was our job to make sure those little fish never got to be big fish. With a bit of luck, this would be over in ten minutes and I could get out of here.
I could hear my heart beating.
Crack.
I flinched as the sound of gunfire rang out. We sprang out of the car, slammed the doors and raced inside, weapons drawn. I was impressed that that tiny hundred-pound frame of hers easily unbolted and threw open the solid iron door. I make my living killing people. I’m good at what I do. But I had never seen anyone – a woman or otherwise – storm into a situation with that much clarity and focus.
In a split second she had singled out a shifty looking asshole and marched over to him, gun outstretched, while she scanned the room. Her knee flew down onto his chest and he collapsed, her gun barrel following down closely on his neck as she pinned him to the ground and spun around to survey the rest of the interior.
I cocked the trigger and aimed at a young guy reaching for his belt, till he put his hands up in the air and gawped at Evie, eyes wide. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I hissed at the young guy, and he obediently lifted his hands higher and away from his weapon.
There was a body collapsed on the floor, a growing puddle of black liquid spreading out from its center, and the neck twisted at some impossible angle. I recognized our two guys standing off to the side, in front of a dusty blue container with no markings, relief plastered all over their faces.
For the briefest moment, the air whined with silence as the echoes of shouting and gunfire reverberated and disappeared inside that cold metallic warehouse. The whole scene suddenly felt like a work of art. In the tiniest moment, in nothing bigger than that space between breaths, I looked over and saw her, stand
ing like some kind of triumphant war goddess above her opponent, knee in his neck and her chest thrust haughtily up while she jammed her gun into his neck. For that brief moment I only saw her, and the distractingly red daub of her full lips in the near-darkness.
I was spellbound.
When the blow came to the back of my head, I instantly realized what an idiot I had been. My gun slipped from my hands as I staggered forward and the assailant sprung away and behind me, throwing his wiry arm around my neck and dropping his weight to yank down and choke me. Shouting rang out through the warehouse as my vision blacked out and I listed backwards, hands clutching at my throat to claw myself loose of that death grip.
I tumbled down to the ground with him and tried through slit eyes to find my gun again. One ferocious kick to the back of my legs followed another, and waves of pain radiated out from my lower back.
This was one feisty motherfucker.
In my tumbled haze, I heard a panicked shout and scuffle and then a bang so loud I only heard the silence resonating after it. I squeezed my eyes shut at the boom and then felt those sinewy limbs grow heavy and flop off of me. I shrugged my attacker off and looked down to see him, curled up and clutching at a wet, red spot on his shoulder blade, a venomous look on his face.
I leapt back, scooped up my weapon and lifted my gaze to see Evie walking towards me, arms still stiff and outstretched, pointing right at the red spot on the thug. It was almost as red as her lips were. Behind her I could make out our two guys wrestling down the other one. She took a few cautious steps towards me, peered down at her kill and then up at me. I felt fine beads of sweat prickle through my skin like needles.
“You say they hired you as a hitman?” she said, and cocked her eyebrow high as she looked me up and down, a look of disgust playing on her lips.
