The F King: A Bad Boy Romance (Still a Bad Boy Book 3)

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The F King: A Bad Boy Romance (Still a Bad Boy Book 3) Page 12

by Ada Scott


  Sarina was blissfully ignorant of how enjoyable it was watching her bounce her way into her tight jeans. It made me want to take them right off her again. But instead, I dressed myself from the bag of clothes I’d given to Sarina when we had planned for me to stay in her room after the Halloween party.

  Shortly afterward, I led the way out of Sarina’s door and waited while she locked it behind us. A group of people were hanging out down the hallway, and a cheer went up as they noticed us.

  I smiled and waved as we walked towards them. Sarina jogged a couple steps to catch up with me.

  “What are they cheering about?” she asked.

  “I told you the walls were thin here.”

  Sarina’s brow furrowed, then her eyes went side and she looked down at the ground, shielding her face with her hand as the blood rushed to her cheeks. She must have had some idea of the kind of noise she made while she was getting fucked good and hard, but possibly not the full picture.

  If I had needed any feedback about just how much she loved it when I was powering my cock into her, the way she came like an air raid siren would have done it. It was music to my ears, and I wondered if Badass would have a new nickname by the time she returned to her dorm this afternoon.

  Sarina

  If a wider range of emotions had ever been packed into ten minutes in my entire life, I had blanked it out. The instant I opened my eyes, Ryan told me he loved me and the waterworks started.

  Twenty five years. Twenty five fucking years I heard those words in movies, I heard them said to other people, read them in books, and I waited. Why not me?

  Now, the first time I heard those words spoken to me, he thought he was talking to somebody named Sarina Bell. I wanted to ask him to say “I love you, Sarina Beckett,” but that would raise some questions, to put it mildly.

  Part of me hoped to hear some kind of doubt in his voice, or to hear the cocky edge of a player telling a girl whatever he thought would get him more pussy. I didn’t hear that. When he said it, I believed him.

  Most of all, the rational part of me wished that I didn’t love him so much too. Once Ryan said the word, put a label on this almost tangible connection between us, there was no way to construct even a flimsy argument against it.

  I was in love for the first time, and I had to live with the knowledge that we were almost certainly doomed. What possible way was there for it to work out?

  Even if I renounced everything I had made out of myself in my so-called real life and ran off with Ryan, the authorities would find me, and then he’d find out what I was. He’d hate me for that betrayal, he’d think it was all the lie that it was supposed to be.

  But it was real and, in its own little bubble, it was perfect. The best thing for me to do was to push forward with the investigation, get as much information as I could on people upstream of Ryan’s supply chain, and divert as much of the heat away from him as possible when it came time to crack down on the F operation.

  Our relationship already muddied the waters a lot, in terms of any charges that might be levied against Ryan in the future, and I’d divert as much as I could too. It was the only chance we had for either of us to end up with the equivalent of a slapped wrist rather than going to prison, and the only chance for him to, maybe, forgive me.

  Last night, after all that sex, he’d seemed impressed when I handed over a bundle of cash that paid Ryan back for the F he’d given me. That was why, when Ryan said he had something important to show me, my ears pricked up with the thought that maybe he was going to take me to meet his source of F.

  In undercover cop terms, the investigation had been moving at light speed, but this would be the first breakthrough that would point the finger at somebody other than Ryan. My heart leapt at the opportunity, though it was brought crashing down pretty quickly by the brief but intense wave of shame in the hallway.

  I wasn’t that loud, was I? Just how thin were the walls in Cumberland, anyway?

  I didn’t have to feign the embarrassment that kept me quiet as Ryan drove the car, but the reasons for Ryan’s silence were a mystery to me. From the glances I stole at him as we went, he was definitely nervous about something.

  Was his supplier dangerous? Another one of those Cannibal thugs? Just somebody who’d hate to see a new face like mine turn up during a transaction?

  The questions only deepened when we pulled into the hospital parking lot. Was his supplier a doctor? A nurse? Anybody else who had access to the stockpiles of drugs in a hospital? Was Ryan also a middleman, bringing ingredients for the manufacture of F?

  All those questions melted away when we entered the elevator and Ryan pressed a button for the tenth floor labeled “Private Wards.” He looked pale, like all his strength was being sapped away from him.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, leaning in and slipping my arms around him.

  “I hate this place.”

  “Why?”

  “Some days are better than others, but she should be relaxing at home, enjoying her retirement. Some days are bad.”

  The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. We walked out slowly as he rested his arm over my shoulders, almost leaning on me.

  “Wait… your mom?” I asked. “Is your mom here?”

  Ryan nodded after a few seconds. Holy shit. He was introducing me to his mom. My heart jolted like a monster had just jumped out in a horror movie. Would she grill me about my intentions with her boy? What were you supposed to do when you met your boyfriend’s mother?

  I blinked a few times and composed myself. However startling it was for me, it looked like this was a lot tougher for him. For most people, I could have understood that this was a daunting milestone in the relationship, but Ryan had always been so immensely self-assured that it was scary to see him looking so embattled.

  “Is there something I need to know?” I asked.

  Ryan took a deep breath, then let it out as he rethought his wording before starting again. “Well, like I said, you’ll see when you get in there. I want you to meet her. I want her to meet you. But…”

  “But what?”

  “But I would never bring just anybody here. I don’t know how much longer I could stand coming here alone. I need help.”

  “With what?”

  “It feels like everybody around here has given up. Even her. They’re just counting down the days and I’m the only one fighting anymore. I love you, but I still probably couldn’t handle bringing you here if I didn’t know you were a fighter too. I need you here to fight with me.”

  I reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. He squeezed back, and I could almost sense him trying to draw energy from me while he steered me down the hallways as if he knew them all too well.

  Outside a room marked “Crewe,” he paused, took a few more deep breaths, and contorted his face into a cheerful mask before leading me around the corner into his mother’s room.

  The clinical lines of the hospital had been disguised by what looked like the evidence of a long stay. The standard bedding was replaced by colorful covers, a huge flat-screen television on a stand made the one suspended from a bracket on the ceiling look like a toy, and flowers adorned a set of drawers next to a standalone wardrobe.

  Sitting in the bed, propped up with pillows and wearing a bandana, was a woman who looked supremely tired. Though she was pale and thin with dark circles under her eyes, I could still see more than a spark of Ryan in them and she carried herself with a quiet dignity.

  Those eyes found the energy to light up and I saw a flash of the beautiful woman under the illness when she saw Ryan and I walk in.

  “Excuse me, Miss California, I’m looking for my mom, have you seen her?” Ryan asked.

  “Shut up, sweetie. So this is her?”

  Ryan

  “What do you mean “her”?” I asked.

  “The one you’ve been daydreaming about these last few visits. Come here, let me get a look at you.”

  My mom held out her hands for Sarina, w
ho let go of mine as she stepped forward. I brought a couple of chairs closer to the bed as they took each other in.

  “Hi Ms. Crewe, I’m Sarina.”

  “And do you have honorable intentions with my boy?” my mom asked.

  Sarina stuttered over her response and I jerked my head to face them. “Mom!”

  “Kidding! I’m kidding! Sorry, dear, I’ve had that joke pent up inside me ever since Ryan was born, but he never brought a girl home before.”

  I put a chair down behind Sarina, who was chuckling with relief, and grabbed one for myself.

  “Yeah, well, I still haven’t. This isn’t home, don’t even start thinking about it like that. You’re getting out of here,” I said.

  “We’ll see.”

  My mom spoke the words quietly, as if she was humoring me, and the chair felt all the heavier as I carried it over next to Sarina’s. The two of them were still clasping hands as I hugged my mom and sat down.

  “Ryan and I thought it was really time for me to meet you, now that I’m pregnant,” said Sarina.

  Sarina’s body was directly between my mother and me, but if my mom looked half as surprised as I imagined, then it was well worth the shock I felt before I realized Sarina was simply turning the tables on her. I heard spluttering from the opposite bed that were more than a little reminiscent of the way Sarina had sounded a few seconds ago, before I saw Sarina’s shoulders shaking as she put a giggly end to the charade.

  “Oh! Oh you little… don’t do that to a poor sick old woman!”

  Sarina moved a little so my mother could peer around her at me. “I like her. How did you two meet?”

  “Just out on the town one night,” I said.

  “I go to college at HU,” said Sarina.

  “Let me guess, chemistry?” asked my mom.

  “No, HR. Human Resources. Why chemistry?”

  “Oh, I guess that’s just me living in the past. My Ryan was always so fascinated by chemistry, it confused me no end when he decided to study engineering.”

  “I was just a kid, Mom, I grew out of it. I thought there were more jobs in engineering,” I said.

  Sarina glanced at me with a slightly knitted brow, then back to my mom, who was reveling in this moment she’d supposedly been waiting for ever since I was born. It wouldn’t be long until she pulled the potty-training photo album out of nowhere.

  “Just a kid, pfffft. You always got the best grades in chemistry all through high school. The last few times he visited me here, I knew he was daydreaming about something special. Or someone.” She squeezed Sarina’s hands. “I hadn’t seen him that preoccupied since the year he got a chemistry set for Christmas. I’m sure the neighbor’s Labrador is still a little purple to this very day.”

  Sarina and my mom laughed, and neither of them looked likely to let go of the other’s hands. Clearly my mom was having a good day, perhaps made better by Sarina’s presence. I could only speak for myself, but my days were sure as fuck better when she was around.

  The two of them got along like a house on fire. I felt my muscles, which had cramped up one by one on the drive over here, slowly unwinding while I listened to them banter as if they were best friends from school. I hadn’t felt this relaxed on a visit to see her since the day she told me she had cancer.

  As much as I loved my mom, I could usually only last so long before the cramps worked their way up my neck and I ended up with a headache. Fighting the defeated resignation on her face, and the staff going through the motions of a hopeless cause, was more than I could take.

  It was little wonder that I fed off the power that creating F had given me. It was because this, in here, was what powerlessness felt like, and it was horrific. To be so helpless in the face of this… monster attacking my mother was beyond my ability to really cope with it.

  Having Sarina here was even better than I thought. I’d hoped it would feel safe like having two legs to stand on instead of one, but it was more like having two legs and a big fucking gun.

  Wrapped up in a blanket of hope that my mom could see the same special things in Sarina that I did, I wasn’t even aware that my head rolled back and I fell asleep at some point. I had no idea how long their hushed voices washed over me, before I recovered from my power nap and sat there with my eyes closed for a few more minutes.

  “No, I swear it, never,” said my mom, “but I saw a few. No offense intended to them, but… they looked like, well, skanks.”

  Sarina laughed quietly.

  “But you’re really…” my mom searched for the words for a moment. “Nice. That sounds like a weak word to describe it, I know, but… um… it’s not supposed to be. I mean, you seem like you really care for him. That’s all a mother really wants for her son. Somebody out there who thinks about him as much as I do before I kick the bucket. You’ve got to be good to him, Sarina, he’s been through a lot with all this. That’s all I want you to promise me.”

  “I can’t promise that… unless you make me a promise too,” said Sarina.

  “What’s that?”

  “I need you to promise to stick around for a while to make sure I keep my promise. You need to fight for every day. No more of this “we’ll see” and “bucket-kicking” bullshit.”

  “Well… I can’t say I approve of the language. I hope that doesn’t rub off on my Ryan, but… OK. I’ll promise to fight. That’s the best I can do.”

  “Good enough for me, Ms. Crewe,” said Sarina.

  “Oh, you. Call me Diana. Hey, do you like baking? I was just reading a brownie recipe in this magazine I bet you could fatten Ryan up with.”

  Ryan

  I craned my neck up at the Acardi building, wondering if Alberico was up there right now. If I hadn’t had that meeting with him right at the start of my arrangement with the Acardis, I might have wondered if he was a work of fiction, because I hadn’t seen him since.

  Just inside the main entrance, a few men wearing “W. Darrin & Co Construction” high visibility vests came and went amongst the more professionally dressed members of the Acardi Crime Family, and the people who worked in the various businesses housed in Trafford Tower who had no idea who they really worked for.

  They thought they were travel agents, accountants or personal assistants, many of whom had been pretty pissed at being temporarily relocated as the construction workers made their way through the building, checking for damage and making repairs as necessary since the earthquake. In reality, they were cogs in several interconnected money laundering machines, but at least their inconvenience was coming to an end, as the work was almost complete.

  I sighed. I had big plans for this building. Plans that would entail a shitload more inconvenience for everybody, to put it mildly. Especially the Acardis.

  Lately, though, all that had seemed to fade into the background in terms of importance. Ever since the night of the Halloween party, Sarina had decided that we’d moved slow enough for her liking and we’d been fucking like bunnies.

  All I could think about was shaking Sarina’s body again and again, tasting her, and hearing her scream my name, when she was capable for forming words at all. Then, when we weren’t fucking, she was the sweetest, toughest, most supportive person I’d ever met.

  My mom hadn’t looked this healthy in over a year. She glowed when she saw Sarina and I walk through her door, and even in that stark hospital setting, I felt complete. Maybe it would be easier and ultimately more satisfying to just disappear with as much of the Acardi’s money as I could, rather than take their place in a bloody coup.

  The idea of all that power was still wildly alluring. To own a city, and then who knows where I might go from there? On the other hand, to earn the love of a woman like Sarina was incredible too. A large and growing part of me thought it was more powerful.

  Was it possible to have both? A question like that was going to take more than the time required for the elevator to take me up to the forty-seventh floor, and my monthly meeting with Giovanni.

 
I’d barely started the mental logistics of leaving the path I’d been walking on for the last couple of years, when I had to dismiss that train of thought and concentrate on the scowling Mafioso behind his desk. Giovanni looked unhappier and more full of himself than usual.

  “Sit the fuck down,” he said. “At least you’re not late this time.”

  I sat the fuck down in the chair in front of Giovanni’s desk, hoping this was at least the kind of rant that I could autopilot my way through without having to really think of how to respond. Nod and agree at the appropriate places, take my money, order the shit I needed and get out before the insults got a rise out of me.

  “Kid, you are a pain in the fuckin’ ass.”

  I nodded and fought to stop my eyes from losing focus.

  “You may have struck a deal with Alberico when he was feeling generous, but when you start fucking up like you have been, the generosity only goes so far.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Giovanni opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a handgun. “What am I talking about? You fuckin’ serious? You think this is a fuckin’ game?”

  Out of the corners of my eye, I could see Giovanni’s guards pushing their suit jackets out of the way to expose their holstered guns for quick access. The tone of the room brought me all the way back to reality, and I sat up a little straighter, eyes narrowing.

  “What’s going on here?” I asked.

  “This is a fuckin’ warning, shit for brains. A warning right from the top. You gotta know by now how much I fuckin’ hate you, and we both know you’ve been hiding behind Alberico’s protective wing like a little pussy. You make a lot of money for us, and you know that too, so you mouth off like you’re fuckin’ untouchable.”

  Giovanni stood up and leaned over his desk. I tried to look in all directions at once, but mostly in his eyes when he started talking again.

  “So, normally, I’d threaten to kill you and you’d roll your cocksuckin’ eyes, take your money and waltz out of here. Today, I’m just gonna give it to you straight. In light of recent events, Alberico has officially given me permission to shoot your sorry ass in the leg if you give me any shit today. Maybe that doesn’t seem so bad to a tough cunt like you, huh? That’s only because you’ve never been shot before. I’ll be happy to pop your cherry, bitch.”

 

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