The Disciples: A Dark Romance Collection

by Sweet, Izzy

  Laughing, Lucifer says, “Now that would be interesting.”

  “It would,” Simon says, “This could be falling back to the troubles the Italians and Irish were having over in Ohio. Two of the best hitmen in the world dropped off the map after the big dust up over there. What if the Irish were trying to take over more space and needed to pin serious damage on the Italians?”

  That’s some convoluted thinking, if you ask me. But if the Irish killed the wife of an Irish boss… fuck me. That’d be a mess to deal with. They’d have to have a damn good reason for doing it.

  “Any chance it was the Russians?” I ask.

  “Blame the Italians, cozy up to the poor little Irish and get their allegiance?” Andrew asks.

  “I’ve got a thousand bucks right now that says it wasn’t the Italians who did it,” Johnathan says with a laugh.

  Snorting with a chuckle, I say, “Not taking that fool’s bet.”

  As soon as we start standing up to go about our tasks for the day, Lucifer’s phone starts ringing on his desk.

  Looking down at the phone, he frowns at it. “It’s an unknown number, Simon.”

  “I’ll start a trace,” Simon says quickly.

  Lucifer picks up the phone and waits a moment before saying, “Hello.”

  Simon makes a thumbs up gesture from his laptop and motions for us to stay.

  Lucifer grins as he says, “Let me put you on speakerphone.”

  Pushing a button, he sets the phone down in the cradle and a Russian voice comes over the line. “Of course.”

  “Now that we’re all here, how I can help you… Alexei?” Lucifer says in a smooth drawl.

  “It’s been an exciting week so far, for the both of us. Too much excitement. Perhaps we need to come to an understanding,” Alexei says.

  “What kind of understanding?” Lucifer asks.

  “You have property of mine. You stole it, and I want it back,” Alexei says with a small growl to his voice.

  “Ah, you speak of Mr. Callahan’s daughter,” Lucifer says with a grin.

  “Yes,” he says. “Give her back to me, and all will be forgiven.”

  My eyes widen with anger as I stomp toward the phone. A growl of anger begins to work through my throat.

  Then a strong hand grips my bicep, stopping my forward moving progress.

  Lucifer looks into my eyes then, his grin only widening as he says, “No.”

  I’m not sure who he’s speaking to, and I don’t really care. Meghan’s mine. Anyone who tries to take her will die. I won’t be creative in my killing, either. I’ll simply put a bullet through their heart and stop them dead.

  “No?!” Alexei spits out through the line, and I can imagine his face turning beet red from his anger.

  “Correct,” Lucifer says in that smug way of his.

  “I’ll fucking murder you all. I’ll take your women and rape them to death. I’ll have my men fuck your children. All of your lives are forfeit!” Alexei screams at us through the phone.

  “Hmm, let me think about this, Alexei. I’d hate to be rash,” Lucifer says quietly.

  “You better. You have no idea what kind of hell I will bring on your heads!”

  All around me, the inner circle bristles with fury. It’s one thing to threaten one of us. But to threaten our families….

  Alexei has gone too far.

  “Here’s my offer, Alexei,” Lucifer says after a moment of quiet. “You will give us all the properties in Garden City that you still hold.”

  “Done,” Alexei says a bit too quickly.

  “You will give us all the properties in Bethlehem, as well,” Lucifer says.

  “Sure—” Alexei tries to say.

  “I’m not finished,” Lucifer snarls. “You will then remove all of your men from my country. You will return to Russia with your hands empty and your testicles left on my desk. You will each put a bullet through your brains, and then, when you reach hell, you will submit my name as your fucking Master.”

  “I will fucking end you all,” Alexei screams. “I will blow—”

  Lucifer pushes the disconnect button and looks to all of us. “I want them all dead. I do not care how much blood is spilt. They all die.”

  Nodding our heads at Lucifer, we look to Simon.

  “The tracer failed. He’s hiding behind too many firewall layers. He used a satellite phone that’s former Russian military hardware. I could hack their systems, but it’s unlikely I’ll be able to locate him. The phone is used to latch onto as many satellites as possible to give it a broad reach. Triangulating will be next to impossible,” Simon says with a sigh.

  “I fucking hate Russians,” I say with a deep growl.

  16

  Meghan

  I begged Gabriel for space, and now that I finally have it, I don’t know what to do with myself. The house is quiet and empty. Too fucking quiet and empty.

  Every little noise has me on edge.

  Every shadow is a person who wants to hurt me.

  All alone with my thoughts, I feel like I’m going a little crazy.

  I pace the rooms, the halls, passing time until Gabriel returns to me, and find myself missing his presence.

  I try to convince myself it’s only because I feel safer with him, but it’s more than that…

  Much more than that.

  Dammit, I think the fucker is growing on me.

  Shaking my head at myself, I stop in the bedroom and stare down at the bed. His scent still lingers in the air, a raw, unapologetic masculine scent, and there’s an imprint in the shape of his huge body in the ruffled sheets.

  Reaching down, I trace the outline of his back, remembering that blissful moment of feeling safe.

  What we did last night, the things he said, the way he desperately thrust himself inside me and held me in his arms afterward… I think it’s completely broken me.

  Broken me in a way that can never be fixed.

  There was truth in the way our bodies joined, an unmistakable truth I can’t ignore or deny.

  Despite the circumstances that brought us together, despite everything against us, he honestly wants me and needs me.

  And worst of all, I think I need him in return.

  It’s insane, so damn insane.

  And wrong on so many levels.

  He goes against everything I’ve ever believed.

  But after everything I’ve been through, I can’t stop myself from wanting him to be someone I can lean on. Someone I can count on.

  The one person in the world who will never abandon me. The one person who will always stand beside me.

  After he said it, I’m honestly starting to believe that he just might be my guardian angel.

  God’s fucked up answer to all my prayers.

  Stalking back into the living room, I pull the curtain back on the front window just enough to peek my eyes out. The neighborhood is alive with activity. Kids playing, riding their bikes, or chasing each other and being noisy. Neighbors working in their gardens, chatting, and doing other things.

  I search for anything suspicious, anything that could be out of place.

  It’s not lost on me that despite all that’s going on outside, that if Alexei has been watching us, if he knows I’m here, then this would be the best time to grab me.

  Fuck… Alexei.

  Just thinking his name sends chills through me. Reaching down to my hip holster, my fingers squeeze around the handle of the pistol Gabriel left me.

  I didn’t think I could hate the man more than I already do, but after Gabriel told me about Beth, her friends, and Charlie, I was filled with this mix of sheer anger and horror.

  I knew that pathetic slimeball was selling kids. I fucking knew it. Yet meeting one of his victims face to face makes it more real.

  More awful.

  The pain, the suffering he’s caused, can’t go unpunished. And if Gabriel ends up being the one to punish him, I hope I’m there.

  I hope he lets me put a bullet between hi
s soulless eyes.

  Dropping the curtain, I force my fingers to release the butt of the gun and pace my way back down the hall.

  I must wear a thousand more steps into the floor before I hear the sound of the garage door sliding up.

  Rushing back over to the front window, I flick the curtain to the side and peek outside.

  I don’t recognize the car.

  Shit.

  A million things run through my head in my panic. Alexei found me. Something happened to Gabriel. Some other asshole wants me dead.

  His own men are stabbing him in his back.

  The garage door begins to slide back down, and I try to force my racing heart to calm.

  It doesn’t matter who’s out there, I decide. All that matters is that I protect myself.

  Fingers trembling, I take a deep breath and ease the pistol out of my holster as I silently walk over to the door and position myself.

  I don’t hear the car door open, but I hear it slam shut.

  Gabriel loaded the gun for me, I know he did, but I double-check the loaded chamber indicator before I lift it in front of me, just to be sure.

  Heavy footsteps thump up the two stairs and the soft beeping of the entrance code being punched in comes through the door.

  My finger eases over the trigger as the door swings open. I’m a split-second from squeezing it when Gabriel steps through the doorway.

  He takes one look at me and freezes.

  I’m so worked up, so freaked out from being left alone, in that split-second of time Alexei is in front of me and I want to shoot him.

  I want to blow his fucking head off.

  And I almost do it.

  “Holy shit!” I cry out as I drop my arms and point the gun at the floor.

  I’m so fucking scared, so fucking terrified of Alexei, I almost killed Gabriel. Like seriously fucking killed him.

  I was a hair away from squeezing the trigger.

  I start to shake uncontrollably, and if I didn’t think the gun would accidentally go off, I’d throw the damn thing away from me.

  Staring at Gabriel, I’m utterly helpless and unable to move.

  I came so close to killing him, to losing him, I’ve petrified myself to the bone.

  And there’s such a look of rage on his face, such a dark, twisted expression of anger, I don’t know what to do.

  “I’m sorry,” I say after I gulp in a mouthful of air, and it doesn’t feel like enough. How could sorry ever be enough? “I didn’t recognize the car.”

  He walks up to me, his expression darkening even further, and still I can’t fucking move. My damn feet are glued to the floor.

  I know he won’t do it, but I half-expect him to lash out at me. To retaliate. To hurt me for what I almost did.

  It’s what my father would do.

  He stops in front of me and I inwardly flinch as he reaches out.

  Hand dropping down, he grabs the barrel of the gun and helps me tuck it safely back into my holster.

  “It’s fine,” he grits out and releases the gun.

  As if he can read all the shit that’s going on inside me, he stares into my eyes, his harsh face threatening to give into softness.

  And for a moment, he looks like he’s going to touch me. Lifting his hand up, he nears my cheek, but then, as if he’s suddenly remembered something, he squeezes that hand into a fist and whips away from me.

  The loss of that touch hits me like a punch in the chest.

  It’s not fine. None of this is fine. Not by a long shot.

  If the fucking Russians and Irish don’t kill us, my dumbass probably will.

  Gabriel begins to stomp around the house, checking all the doors and windows.

  “Did anyone bother you while I was gone?” he asks, peering out the front window after checking the lock.

  “No,” I push out of my throat.

  He grunts and snaps the curtains shut.

  Once he’s satisfied with the exterior entrances, he moves deeper into the house.

  Eventually, my thoughts and heart begin to calm down enough for me to wonder what the hell he’s doing.

  Putting one foot in front of the other, I walk down the hall, keeping a safe distance as I follow behind him.

  There’s so much anger in the way he moves, I can practically see it radiating off him. Pushing into each room, he checks it before closing the door behind him.

  Ever since that first night, I’ve never seen him close an interior door before, I realize. In fact, he has this awful habit of leaving them all open.

  “Gabriel…” I say to get his attention but trail off as he keeps stomping around in his big black boots, ignoring me.

  Oh god, did I just ruin this thing blossoming between us with my panic? Have we ended like we began? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s decided to wipe his hands of me now. After all, how many times can I expect him to put up with me pointing a dangerous weapon at him?

  The need to apologize, to make him understand why I did what I did, causes the words to tumble out of me as I follow behind him.

  “I didn’t recognize the car. I’ve never seen it before. I thought you were still driving the truck and expected the worst.”

  Without glancing back at me, he says, “I know. You did good, I’m proud of you.”

  That brings me up short.

  What the hell is going on here?

  If he’s so proud of me, why does he seem so pissed off?

  He begins to stomp up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and I race to catch up with him.

  “I almost killed you. I thought you were Alexei,” I huff out as I grip the banister.

  Suddenly he stops before reaching the top and I hear him take a deep breath. I watch the muscles in his neck, his shoulders, and his back bunch up through his tight black shirt as his entire body tightens with tension.

  He’s so rigid, I’m surprised I don’t hear his bones crack from the stress of being so stiff.

  “Gabriel, what’s wrong?” I ask, reaching out to touch his back.

  I feel his muscles tighten even more before they relax.

  Both hands squeezing into fists, he cracks his neck to the side, then he slowly turns around to face me.

  The black look etched into his rugged features is so terrifying I find myself taking a hasty step back.

  Glaring down at me, his lip curls up as he says, “If you fucking killed me because you thought I was that cockroach, I’d still be proud of you, baby girl.”

  His words don’t match his expression at all, and I don’t know how to reconcile what I’m seeing with what I’m hearing.

  Is he truly not angry with me, or is he only saying it for some unknown reason?

  He takes a step down, and I find myself instinctively taking another step back.

  “Then why are you looking at me like that?” I finally ask.

  “Looking at you like what?”

  “Like you want to kill me and bathe in my blood.”

  Stilling at my question, he closes his eyes for a moment and then lets out what I think is supposed to be a sigh but it comes out more like growl.

  “It’s not for you,” he says, and spins back around.

  He moves back up the stairs with a renewed purpose, and I hesitate, wondering if it’s wise to chase after him.

  He’s upset about something, and perhaps it’s best to give him some space…

  But the need to know what’s made him so angry has me pumping my legs to follow him up the steps.

  “Who is it for?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer.

  He ignores me, pulling the door open to the bathroom. He pops his head inside before slamming the door shut.

  “Gabriel,” I frown, trying to step in his way.

  “I have to check the house, Meghan. I have to make sure it’s secure,” he grits out, then the big fucking ogre literally picks me up by the waist and moves me out of his path.

  My jaw drops and I stare after him as he walks away.

  Snappin
g my jaw shut, I grind my teeth together as he checks on the bedrooms, still treating me as if I don’t exist.

  Well, fuck him if he’s going to be that way. Picking me up and moving me like I’m a damn child…

  Shaking my head, I turn around and walk back down the stairs.

  When I reach the bottom, I can still hear him prowling around upstairs, so I head to the kitchen to get a drink.

  I’m pulling open the cabinet above the counter and stretching up on my tiptoes to grab a glass when I sense his presence filling the small space.

  Still annoyed by the way he treated me, I decide to give him a taste of his own medicine and ignore him as I pull the glass down.

  Suddenly his shadow rolls over me, swallowing me up. He shuts the cabinet for me and then his fingers lightly brush down my arm.

  Jerking away from him, I move over to the sink and hold the glass under the faucet.

  “Is the house secure?” I snap as I turn the faucet on.

  “Yes,” he replies, that one word dropping from his lips as if it’s somehow both significant and insignificant.

  Whipping around when he moves closer to me, I lift the glass between us. “Well, I suppose that’s good then.”

  I take a drink and begin to lower the glass back down when he decides to yank the rug out from beneath my feet. “Alexei contacted us. He’s demanded you back.”

  The glass slips from my fingers and shatters against the floor.

  At once every fear I’ve been carrying around inside seems to grow, looming larger.

  Water splashes against my ankles but I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.

  “What?” I gasp, hoping I heard him wrong.

  Gabriel looks down at the floor, at all the glass, then he grabs me by the hips.

  Picking me up, he sets me on the counter with a thump.

  “What did you say?” I repeat, my voice a harsh whisper as I tip my head back to look up at him.

  The glass on the floor crunches beneath Gabriel’s boots as he steps into me. “Alexei has demanded you back.”

  Those words drive into me like nails in my coffin.

  I’m dead… dead…

  So fucking dead.

  I thought… Well, I guess I secretly hoped that Alexei wouldn’t want me now. That he’d consider me not worth the effort and move on.