Cocky Prick: A Bad Boy Romance

by Tessa Thorne

  “Oh, Jesus,” he says, lowering his voice. “A crying woman is the last thing I need.”

  I flinch as he puts a large hand on my shoulder, but he holds me there and his hand softens to a tender stroke.

  “I’m not gonna fucking kill you, sweetheart.” His voice is even softer than his touch, but his eyes are just as hard as before. “What kind of man would do that to a woman he just fucked?” He’s probably just trying to put me at ease while he figures out what to do with me.

  He puts his other hand on my arm and moves me gently toward the couch. “Just sit down on the couch, pull your shit together, and we’ll figure this out.”

  “Okay,” I stammer as I let him seat me on the couch, put my purse on my thighs and try to look him in the eye. I hope he just sees me as the desperate human being I am and not as someone trying to get him killed. I’ll do anything to get out of this alive and get back to my son.

  He pushes back the chest, shoves aside a magazine and sits down on top of it across from me. He leans forward with his hands on his knees, eyes locked onto mine. It takes all my courage to not drop my eyes from his.

  “Okay,” he says. “This meant enough to you to gather fifty grand in cash. But I’m going to need to see way more than that.”

  Thank God. Maybe this isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. This is almost all the cash I could pull together, but there’s still a bit left in my IRA account and Ethan’s college trust fund I can cash out.

  I breathe in deeply and swallow the lump in my throat, desperately trying to pull myself back together. “How much more do you need?” I ask.

  “At least two-fifty.” His voice is totally flat, and completely serious.

  He’s not kidding. I want to scream. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars! My heart is racing, and it’s hard to think straight. I blink at him, and my mouth works open, trying to get some words out but I can’t.

  I sway forward, feeling lightheaded and he catches me by my shoulders.

  “Don’t faint on me now, sweetheart,” he says. “Come on now. If you pulled together fifty, how hard could two hundred more be?”

  I look at him, swallowing back the urge to vomit. “Are you joking?” I ask.

  “The fuck? I’m trying to work with you here!” he snaps, his eyes narrowing in anger. “If you want this cop dead as badly as you do, you need to find a way to get that cash. Then we’ll see if I can do it or not. Got it?”

  I press my lips together to hold the stream of obscenities I want to spew out at him inside me, and nod my head curtly.

  “Good. You work out your money situation,” he says as he stands up. “I got your number. I’ll call you within a week and tell you what’s what. Got it?”

  I nod again and stand up on shaky knees. He watches me warily like he’s not sure if he’s going to let me walk out of here alive.

  “It goes without saying, sweetheart,” he says, a dangerous tone in his voice. “You don’t talk about this to nobody. Got it?”

  I nod again, keeping my mouth closed, but my breathing is ragged with emotion. I just want to go home.

  He walks toward the door and unlocks the deadbolt. The sound of the lock clicking open gives me a rush of relief. I walk past him carefully, but he tugs on my arm gently to stop me. His eyes are softer now, and his face more relaxed.

  “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have fucked you,” he says, his voice soft with regret. “I don’t do women dirty like that.”

  I drop my eyes. That’s the last thing I want to think about right now. I just want to go home to my son.

  He lets go of my arm and opens the door for me, and I quickly walk out of the bar with my head low, trying to shield my face from the bar. I feel like everyone’s staring at me on the way out. It’s like I’m doing a walk of shame in a frat house. Except it’s a mob joint. It almost makes me want to laugh.

  “Hey, stop!” I hear a voice behind me, and I pick up my speed heading toward the door. I wish the bar wasn’t this long. I hear footsteps behind me and turn around when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

  He’s younger than Rocco, but his face is similar. They could be family. My eyes widen as I notice the hand he’d put on my shoulder is missing its pinky.

  “You forgot your phone,” he says, holding it out to me.

  “Thank you,” I mumble as I take the phone. He’s got a curious look on his face, like he wants to ask me what happened. But I turn around and rush out of the bar before anyone else can stop me.

  It took me an hour to get back home to our motel in the Bronx. An hour of sitting in that car thinking over everything that happened as Rocco’s cum dripped out of my pussy, staining the back of my skirt. I didn’t even have the presence of mind to grab some more paper towels as I rushed out of that bar.

  The old man at the desk looks up from his phone and takes a swig from his bottle of whiskey as I walk past him. I shiver, feeling his eyes shifting from my tits to my ass as he openly stares. It’s hard to get used to living in a place like this. I feel like the worst mother ever, dragging Ethan out of our home in the Upper West Side to a part of the Bronx where I’m afraid to let him play in the park.

  It burns me to think that Rocco could peg where I lived so easily. I’d do anything to be able to move back, but I had to move to keep Ethan safe.

  I unlock the door and quietly step into the motel room. I kick off my shoes so the heels don’t get caught on the loose coils from the cheap carpet.

  Jasmin rises from the couch and smiles at me. “Hey, babe,” she whispers.

  A sense of relief washes through me. Thank God it’s just her. I didn’t want Ethan to see me like this.

  “You okay?” she asks me quietly, walking up to me.

  I nod, but the tears that start pouring down my face give away my lie.

  “Oh, baby, it’s okay,” she says as she wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls me into her chest.

  I don’t want to do this, but I can’t help it. It’s been so hard. I finally thought I had found a way to end it all. But now I don’t know what’s going to happen next, or what I’m going to do if Rocco doesn’t come through. All I can do is bury my head on my friend’s shoulder and cry.

  She leads me to the couch and sits me down next to her as she softly rubs my back.

  “There, there, baby,” she coos. “You’re going to get through this.”

  After a few minutes of crying, I finally pull myself together. Jasmin hands me a tissue as she watches me with genuine concern in her eyes.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” she asks.

  I shake my head no as I dry the tears from my eyes and blow my nose clean.

  “It’s okay,” she says. “I get it. Just know I’m here for you, okay?”

  “Thank you,” I say and hug her tightly. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  “Well, you won’t have to find out,” she says, a comforting smile on her face. “I’m your ride-or-die girl.”

  I laugh, my voice still shuddering. “I know. I love having a bad bitch like you in my corner.”

  “Always,” she says. “Just remember, whenever you're ready to talk, I’m here for you, okay?”

  I nod and toss the crumpled tissue into the wastebasket. This motel room may be disgusting, but I like to keep it as clean as I can.

  “Do you want me to stay while you take a shower?” Jasmin asks.

  “Do I look that bad?” I laugh, blinking my puffy eyes.

  “Maybe a little disheveled.” She laughs as she tucks some loose strands of hair back behind my ear. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just got fucked.”

  I let out a laugh. If only she knew. “Thanks again for watching Ethan.”

  “What are best friends for?” Jasmin asks. “And it’s no bother. He’s a sweetheart. I love spending time with him.”

  I take another tissue offered by Jasmin and dab the corners of my eyes.

  “I’m sorry for asking you to come out here to watch him,” I say.r />
  “Please, babe.” She laughs. “I grew up in Red Hook. The Bronx don’t scare me.”

  I drop my eyes. I wish I could say the same. But this is the only place I could find a motel that didn’t need a credit card or my real name.

  “You sure I can’t convince you to come stay at my place?” she asks.

  I shake my head no. I want so badly to say yes. But I can’t drag Jasmin into the middle of this mess more than I have. Harry knows where she lives, and the last thing I want is for him to drop by her house and threaten her for keeping him away from his family.

  “I really appreciate it,” I say regretfully. “But I can’t.”

  “Offer stands, babe,” Jasmin says. “I’ll stay in case Ethan wakes up. You go take your shower, okay?”

  “Thank you,” I say. “But you can go home. He's a heavy sleeper . He won’t wake up.”

  Jasmin shoots a questioning look at me, and I nod.

  “Alright, babe,” she says as she grabs her purse and stands up. “I’ll see you Monday.”

  She wraps me in another tight hug, kisses me on the cheek and heads out the door. I watch her till she heads down the stairs and I lock the door.

  I open the wall safe, lock the stacks of cash inside and head to the bedroom to check on Ethan. He’s lying on his side of the bed, covered with a light blanket. I walk up to the bed and almost cry as I hear the light sounds of his breathing. My little boy. My little treasure. I promise you; I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

  I head into the shower stall, trying not to touch the grimy walls. It took me half a day to clean all the mold and mildew off these walls and the glass door, but it’s not even halfway clean.

  I turn the water on hot. There’s barely enough pressure, so the water comes down on my hair in a trickle, dripping down my face, mixing with my tears.

  What did I do to deserve this? Not even the shower in this God damned place is good enough to let me wash away my sins and mistakes.

  Chapter Three

  Rocco

  I look up from the invoices as Pinky pokes his head inside the office.

  “Get the fuck in here, Pinky,” I say.

  Pinky nods nervously and stands in front of the desk.

  “What do you have for me?” I demand.

  Pinky looks down at his hands and fiddles with the pink diamond ring on his remaining pinky. “I got everything you asked for, bro.”

  I glare up at him. I shouldn’t have to remind him to cut it out with that ‘bro’ shit. The way he drops his eyes from mine tells me he knows it, too.

  “And?”

  “Everything she told me online was correct,” he says. “Harry Brennan, the cop she wants clipped, that’s her ex-husband. Divorce filed two years ago and finalized six months ago. They have one kid together. Ethan Brennan. She has full custody.”

  “It didn’t seem weird to you that she was married to a cop?” I ask, my voice rising with anger.

  “Come on, Rocco.” He shrugs. “I looked up her info, said she was divorced. Didn’t think it mattered who she was married to before.”

  “Next time, dig deeper.” Pinky flinches back at the venom in my voice.

  This is not his fault. I shouldn’t be taking out my anger on him. It’s just a fucked-up situation.

  “What else you got?” I ask, lowering my voice.

  “She’s filed multiple restraining orders against him. All of them have been tossed out,” he says.

  “Hard to get one of those to stick to a cop,” I say. The system protects its own at the expense of everyone else. Makes me want to fucking spit.

  “She tried to get him charged with domestic violence. Said he beat her and the kid. But the charges didn’t stick,” he says, his voice drifting away as if he’s lost in his own thoughts.

  I shake my head and clench my fists. Only a fucking coward would raise their hand to their woman, let alone a kid. Why did he have to be a fucking cop and complicate this? Fuck. If he weren’t a cop, I’d clip him pro bono.

  “How’s his record?” I ask, pulling Pinky out of his thoughts.

  “Nothing that stands out for a sergeant. His dad’s a lieutenant in the organized crime task force though,” he says guiltily.

  “Just what I needed. Another complication.” I bark out a laugh, and Pinky flinches. Shit, I need to go easier on the kid. This isn’t his fault.

  “What about her finances? Can she actually pull together the cash?” I ask.

  “Maybe.” He shrugs again. “She’s the cofounder of a tech startup. She’s gotten some funding. Other than that, not much. No house in her name. Just a retirement account and a college savings account.”

  “So she can’t pay?” I ask.

  “She can if she loots her company,” he answers.

  There’s a hard pit of guilt lodged in my stomach. This woman comes to me to save her and her son from a violent ex-husband. And instead I use her like a fucking whore and toss her out on her ass.

  Fuck!

  I’d never have done it if I’d known. I can’t imagine what’s going through her head after what happened. But I do know one thing. If she was willing to go through what she did to contact us on the darknet, gather fifty grand in cash and work up the nerve to come meet me knowing full well I could just have killed and robbed her if I had wanted to, then she’ll do whatever else it’ll take to save her family.

  “She’ll find the money,” I say.

  “You think so?” Pinky asks.

  “Trust me,” I say with finality. “She’ll do what it takes.”

  “Need me to do anything else?” he asks.

  The chair creaks as I stand up and walk around the desk.

  “Visit Ma when you supposed to,” I say sternly.

  “I will,” he says. “Sorry for missing it last time. Won’t happen again.”

  “Good,” I say, patting my little brother on the cheek. “You did good, kiddo.”

  “Thanks,” he says, smiling up at me. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  That smile of his always reminds me of the little kid I raised. Before he followed in my footsteps. I should have never let him get into this life. But I got no room for regrets.

  “Going to go see Tony,” I say.

  Pinky puts a hand on my shoulder to keep me from leaving. “Are you going to ask him for permission before you know she has the money?”

  If he were anybody but my brother, I’d smack him to remind him of his place. But I know he’s just watching out for me, and I’ve already been too hard on him.

  “She’ll get the money.” I hug him and pat him hard on the back and head out of Franky’s.

  The door jingles as I step into Tony’s Pizza and Subs. Luco, the kid working behind the counter, nods at me as I walk in.

  “Morning, Mr. Rocco,” he says as he finishes making a sub. “Can I get you anything?”

  “It’s just Rocco, kid,” I say with a grin. “Is Tony back there?”

  “Yes, sir,” he says as he hands the sub to the working stiff in front of the counter.

  He steps out of the way as I step behind the counter, grab a couple of beers from the fridge and head into the back.

  Tony’s sitting on a folding chair at a small table across Jimmy, one of the older button men under him.

  Tony stands up as soon as he sees me, wide smile spreading across his chubby face. “Hey, Rocco!” he says, opening his arms. “It’s good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you too, Tony,” I say, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “Jimmy.” I nod at him, passing a beer to Tony. “Want a beer?” I ask. “I thought he was alone.”

  Jimmy shakes his head as he stands up. “It’s alright, Rocco. I was just on my way out.”

  “Alright, Jimmy,” I say, giving him a hug as he leaves. “I’ll see you around.”

  Tony waits for Jimmy to head out the back before he sits back down. “Sit down, Rocco.” He gestures to Jimmy’s empty seat.

  I plant
my ass and take a pull from the beer. It’s got that watery taste of the cheap domestic shit, but I’ve got bigger worries than the quality of beer Tony keeps in stock.

  “You look like you got something on your mind.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Go ahead. Place was just swept last night.”

  “Shit.” I laugh. “I’ve always been an open book to you.”

  “It’s a good thing, Rocco.” He grins. “Means I can always trust you. If you want to die old in this thing of ours, you’ve got to trust some of your friends more than others.”

  “I hear that,” I say, clinking my beer against his and we both take a pull. “I need permission for a job.”

  I take the photograph of Harry Brennan from my pocket and slide it over to him. He picks it up, and his smile turns into a frown as he reads what I wrote on the back.

  “Well, shit,” he says, tossing the photograph back to my side of the table. I take it and tuck it back into my pocket.

  “That’s what I said.” My smile is grim.

  “How much you asking for?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Two-fifty,” I say. I finish my beer and toss the bottle into the recycling bucket where it lands with a loud clatter.

  Tony lets out an impressed whistle. “Is this through that… darknet thing of yours?”

  “Yeah.” I nod.

  “Damn.” He shakes his head in wonder. “I don’t know shit about that darknet stuff Pinky’s running. Just that it pays.”

  “Speaking of.” I take a folded manila envelope out of my back pocket and slide it over to his side of the table.

  He picks up the envelope and smacks it into his other palm. “Thicker than usual,” he says with a happy smile.

  “Been a good week.” I grin. “Pinky’s my top earner.”

  “Like I said. I don’t know shit about this darknet of yours, but I know it pays,” he says, laughing to himself. “But as much as I’d love to tax that two-fifty, it’s not gonna fly, Rocco.”

  “Shit.” I lean my elbows on the table and lean forward. “What will it take to get the clear?”

  Tony sucks on his beer as he thinks. “Hard to say, Rocco.” He gestures with his hands. “Clipping a shield is a big fucking deal.”