Monster: Made & Broken (A Mafia Bad Boy Romance)

by Nora Ash

  Was tonight the big strike against Brigs?

  Worry for Marcus fluttered in my belly as I began walking up the driveway. Surely Mira and Aidan would be inside, still guarded by Rob as Blaine had demanded. She would know when they would be back.

  It was probably because of the darkness and the large, evergreen bushes lining the driveway that the twenty or more dark figures sneaking around from the back of the house in a hunched-over run didn't spot me as they made their way to the front door.

  I stopped dead in my tracks, adrenaline snaking its way up my spine even before my brain managed to put two and two together.

  Someone was trying to break into the Steel mansion while everyone was away. A lot of someones.

  A sharp shock of panic lanced through the raw adrenaline.

  Not everyone was away—Mira and Rob were inside, with the baby.

  Rob might be a big, scary-looking mobster, but no way he could take on that many at a time.

  My heart hammered in my chest, forcing me into action. I dove behind one of the bushes and dug out my phone, frantically scrolling through the contacts until I found Blaine's number.

  I pressed “call”, praying he would pick up.

  The phone rang three times, and I feared my heart would leap out of my throat as the quiet buzz seemed to permeate the silent evening. If whoever was breaking in heard me and came looking, I was done for.

  But if I didn't call, Mira and Aidan would be dead.

  When the call connected, I didn't wait for Blaine to answer.

  "Blaine, it's Evelyn. Someone's breaking into your dad's house. There's at least twenty of them. Come back quick," I whispered as loudly as I dared.

  An inventive curse hissed back at me from the other end.

  "God dammit, I knew it was a fucking trap," Blaine's voice crackled through my phone. "Get out of there now, we're coming."

  "But Mira and Aidan are in there, I have to get to them," I protested, even though I had no idea how on Earth I was going to take on a group of probably-armed criminals. "Is there a backdoor, or—"

  "Evelyn, listen to me, get out of there now. Mira and Aidan are safe, they're not there, and if those men catch you—”

  I didn't hear what else he said, because just then someone clamped their hand around my mouth from behind, pulling me backwards through the bush. I shrieked and flailed wildly, but the sound was absorbed by the meaty hand pressing painfully tight against my lips. A hard slap against my hand sent my phone flying into the dirt.

  "Well, well, what do we have here?" a harsh voice growled into my ear. "A filthy Steel spy, hiding in the begonias?"

  I bit down, hard, on my attacker’s palm and kicked backwards, aiming for his shins.

  The man cursed and released his grip on my mouth long enough for me to suck in a lungful of air.

  "Marcus!"

  My scream rang through the night, but I didn't have time to ponder why it was the name of my ex-lover and not his brother I cried out for before a sharp blow to my temple made pain explode in my head and the world flicker as it went blank.

  * * * *

  Chapter 24

  Marcus

  I had never experienced the kind of sick fear that crept up through my chest and wrapped an icy cold hand around my throat as Blaine cussed into the phone moments after calling Evelyn's name.

  "Blaine," I said, clutching at the steering wheel of the car I'd been driving—up until it became obvious who Blaine was talking to. "Where is she?"

  "Dad's house," he said, hanging up on the call before he quickly pressed in another number and held the device back up to his ear. "This whole fucking mission is a trap. Hello?" The last word he spoke into the phone, his attention leaving me, but I didn't care. I'd heard enough.

  Tires squealing, I set the car back into gear and ripped it around, stepping on the speeder until my foot touched the floor.

  Brigs has Evelyn.

  Flashes of what I'd done to his nephew made me grit my teeth to keep from crying out with terror. If his lackey had known what she meant to me, Brigs did too—and he wouldn't hesitate to hurt her to get back at me.

  Oh God, Evelyn, why did you come back?

  Beside me, Blaine was shouting instructions into his phone, but my focus was purely on the road ahead. I didn't care what they were planning, nor what consequences tonight would have. All I knew was that Evelyn needed me and I had to get to her before it was too late.

  When we pulled up in front of the house it was still cloaked in darkness, but I could make out shapes moving inside the windows, watching. We were expected.

  "Marcus, wait. If you go in without backup, he'll kill you," Blaine said, putting a hand on my arm as I unclipped the seatbelt.

  "I don't care if he kills me," I hissed, climbing out of the car before Blaine could stop me.

  The passenger side door opened, and he crawled out. "Marcus, for fuck's sake, you crazy bastard, you won't help her by committing suicide! Just wait for five fucking minu—”

  I shoved past him and walked up the driveway with long strides, hands lifted above my head. Hopefully she was still alive. Hopefully Brigs would be satisfied with me instead of her.

  I didn't stop until I was a few yards from the front door, hands still above my head.

  "Gerald!" I shouted, clenching my fists above my head to keep myself from storming through the door. The snarling monster in my chest was roaring to be set free, but I knew that if I gave in, Brigs would kill Evelyn before I could ever get to her. So for the first time in my life, I kept control of the monster, even though everything in me begged to unleash it.

  A short moment later the front door opened, and there he stood. Holding Evelyn in front of him like a shield, a gun pointed at her temple.

  "Well, well. If it isn't the murderer himself," Brigs said, his voice as icy as ever. "And what can I do for you this fine evening? Let me guess: you're here for the little whore?"

  "Don't speak about her," I snarled, unable to keep a hold of my fury at the blatant display of disrespect to the woman whimpering in his grasp.

  "Oh, that's funny, you think you get to make demands?" he chuckled. "You murder my nephew, my heir, after this dumb cunt betrays me, and you try to tell me who I can speak about? No, son, that's not how this is going to play out. You see..." Brigs tapped Evelyn's temple lightly with the gun, making her cringe. "I was planning on ransacking your father's home for valuables before setting it on fire while you were all off dying in the trap I've so painstakingly laid out for you... and then who do I find in the flowerbeds, ruining all my hard work and carefully laid plans? My former employee! So I do hope you understand that I'm a little displeased with Miss Embry's performance these past few weeks, and a stern talking to is inevitable."

  I gritted my teeth as my gaze swept over Evelyn, trying to determine the best way to make Brigs surrender her. I'd never been the diplomat in the Family, and right now every instinct in my body was screaming to throw myself at my enemy and save the woman who had claimed my heart.

  "Take me instead," I said. "Do with me what you want. Just let her go."

  "Oh, so my informants were right?" he said, that cold chuckle once more ringing through the driveway. "You did fall for the piece of arse I sent to ensnare you? Ah, you Steel boys, so bloody predictable. Play into your mummy issues, and you fall like dominoes. It would be pitiful, really, if it wasn't because you were all such a smug bunch of pricks. You get that from your father, of course. You've always been his spitting image, inside and out."

  I bit the inside of my cheeks until i could taste blood, the urge to tear his flesh from his bones nearly insurmountable now.

  "Please." It came out as a hoarse whisper. "My family will be here soon. I will make a better hostage."

  "Will you, though?" Brigs said, tilting his head a little. "Do I bank on William Steel loving his most infamous son enough to watch in silence as I burn his empire to the ground and once and for all prove to the rest of the underworld that the Steels are done
for? Or do I keep the girl and get you to plead my case and, if necessary, protect me from your own father and brothers? I think I might just like my chances better with dear Evelyn here as my trump card. Or what do you think, Evelyn? Does he love you enough to kill his own family if they attack us?"

  "Go to hell," she hissed, murderous rage clear in her voice even as her defiance ended in a pained whimper when he yanked her hair backward.

  "I think that's a yes," Brigs said, smiling with false cheerfulness as his gaze focused behind me. "I guess we're about to find out, huh, boy?"

  I heard them behind me then, fast feet on the driveway and rustling in the evergreen bushes surrounding the lush gardens.

  My Family had come.

  “What you you doing, Gerald?” my father’s voice came from somewhere behind me, sounding more conversational than angry at finding his long-time friend-turned-traitor on his doorstep. “You know we’ve got you outmanned and outgunned. This is folly.”

  “Do you, though? Marcus, perhaps you want to plead my case, hmm?” Brigs said. When I hesitated, he jabbed Evelyn with the gun once more, and I had to clutch my hands until the nails dug into my palms and drew blood to stop myself from attacking him.

  “Let him do what he wants,” I ground out, turning to my father. “He can have the fucking house, and whatever else he desires.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” My father said, looking crestfallen. “Is it the bloody girl? You want us to give up everything for some stray bitch you’ve dragged in off the street? And you,” he said, turning to Brigs. “I can only assume you think I’ve gone soft in my old days if you think this desperate ploy is going to work.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Brigs said, an unpleasant smile curving his lips. “Ask your son if he’s going to let you attack me. I do have his beloved, after all.”

  My father sighed, an exasperated sound. “Gerald… for old time’s sake I’m giving you this one opportunity to tell your men to lay down their weapons before I order mine to kill every last one of you. I concede, what happened to your nephew was unfortunate, but you did try to steal information from my son.”

  Brigs’ eyes narrowed. “No deal, old friend. Tonight, your reign ends. Fred!”

  I braced, ready for an attack, but at first, nothing happened. Then orange light lit up on the sky from the back of the house, a whooshing sound ripping through the night.

  My father’s face contorted in anger when the flames licking at the roof became visible in the next moment. “You are going to regret this!”

  “Dad, no!” I saw his intention in his eyes before he vocalized it and rushed forward, a hand stretched out. “Don’t! He’ll kill her!”

  “Get out of the way!” he sneered, and then raised his voice. “Attack!”

  I didn’t pause to think. When his order cracked through the air I lunged, my desperation mixing with fury and carrying me forward. My fist impacted with his face before anyone could react, taking him to the ground as dirt and gravel flew around us.

  “She’s my fiancée!” I yelled as I tackled him. “I love her! But you don’t care, do you? You don’t fucking care about any of us! I hate you! I hate you!”

  I wasn’t aware of the words I was slinging at him, nor the tears—I only felt the deep-seated hatred and anguish I’d carried for this man for so many years finally erupting in an explosion from the deepest, darkest part of my soul. I swung at him, breaking his nose, but before I could do any more damage a sharp kick to my side right where I’d been shot knocked me off him. I grunted from the searing agony and rolled several feet before I landed on my back, momentarily stunned from the pain.

  Wesley’s face came into focus above me. He was holding a gun, aiming it at my chest. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice oddly businesslike. As if in slow motion I saw him release the safety, shaking his head as he did as if tutting at a disobedient child.

  But before he could pull the trigger, Wesley froze, his eyes widening before they glazed over and he tipped backwards like a falling tree-trunk, the gun dropping limply from his hands. Two red holes sullied his dark-clad chest.

  “You all right?” One of the twins stood above me, a gun still in his hand. He reached the other down and pulled me up.

  “Evelyn?” I asked instead of answering, swirling around to look for her. My father’s estate had erupted into mayhem. Guns were firing all around us, making bullets fly and men groan, but there was no sign of my beloved. Nor Brigs.

  “Brigs got her. Inside,” my brother said, forcing me down to a crouch behind a plant pot. “We’ll get her, we just need a pla—Marcus!”

  I ignored his shout as I ran for the stairs, pulling my own gun out from my inner pocket as I dodged out of the way for Brigs’ men. When I got to the door one of them finally turned my way, gun aimed, but I got to him first. He fell to the ground with a bullet between the eyes, and so did the man inside who tried to take me down when I came crashing through the door.

  Inside, the roar of the fire spreading through the house was deafening, and smoke was starting to seep through the cracks to the entryway.

  I looked around, my pulse pounding so hard in my ears it nearly drowned out the crackling pops from the fire consuming my childhood home. Where are you, Evelyn?

  I saw the smoke billowing thicker from the left side of the house and bolted to the other end, running as fast as I could despite my wounds. If Brigs had her, he would be moving away from the worst of the fire, trying to buy himself more time as his men fought ours outside to clear a path for him.

  I came to a stop when I tried to push through the kitchen door and found it locked.

  Finally.

  I kicked the door in, satisfaction surging through me as it flew off its hinges and shattered on the black and white tiles.

  Brigs was standing against the far wall, his hand still clutched in Evelyn’s hair and the gun pointed up at her chin.

  “Well done on taking your father down, son,” he said, but the mocking smile on his lips was tense. “Now be a good kid and slide your gun over here and you can have your girl back.”

  I pulled my lip up in a silent snarl, not taking my eyes off him.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Do you really want to test me? It’s a stressful situation—my finger might just slip, and then pretty Evelyn won’t be so pretty anymore.”

  Seething, I bent to slide my weapon across the floor toward him. I wanted to kill him more than I’d wanted to kill anyone since I saw Leo torture Evelyn, but I knew I had to restrain myself or she would pay for my mistakes.

  Quick as a snake, Brigs bent to pick up my gun, releasing his hold on Evelyn. My heart gave a spasm of pent-up relief, but it was quashed the moment he turned my gun back on her, his own now aimed at me.

  “Ah, there we go. That’s much better,” he said, the coldness in his eyes flickering for something darker. “You stupid son of a bitch, did you really think I was going to simply give you back the girl who betrayed me? Who you murdered my nephew for? Love really does make you blind, huh? And dumb. No, this is how we’re going to do this…” He pushed Evelyn with the muzzle of my gun, making her stagger a foot to his side so he could keep her at arm’s distance. “You get to choose, Marcus. One of you can live. The other… I’ll shoot. So what’s it going to be? Your own life, or the traitorous slut you fucked while thinking about your mother? And before you answer, may I remind you that if you choose a noble death worthy of a Shakespearean tragedy, there’s the small matter of your father. With you gone, you think he’s going to let her live? The cunt who made his own son turn against him? Ah, decisions, decisions.”

  “Me. Kill me,” I said, not hesitating for more than a second. He was right about my father—he would take his fury with me out on Evelyn if I was not there to protect her, but I knew without a shadow of doubt that Blaine would take care of her. He would put her on a plane and she and her mother could live a happy life in America, forgetting all the horrors. Forgetting me.

  “Ma
rcus, no!” Evelyn gasped, but Brigs only smiled his cruel smile, uncocking the gun trained on me.

  I didn’t look at him, choosing instead to keep my gaze locked on Evelyn. Even now, with her face twisted in fear, she was so unbelievably beautiful. And for a short moment in time, she had been mine.

  “Goodbye, Evelyn,” I said softly, touching my hand to my heart.

  But instead of despair, her expression changed into anger so fierce it looked foreign on her delicate face. Faster than I’d thought she could move, she swung around and grabbed the barrel of the gun trained on her with one hand, smacking Brig’s arm right in the elbow joint so hard I heard the crack from across the room.

  He yelped, losing his grip on my gun as she ripped it from his numbed fingers and turned it around on him, holding it up with both hands.

  He stared at her with his mouth open in shock, but she didn’t hesitate. The room rang with the sound of first one, then two, and finally three shots as she put three bullets in his chest and stomach.

  Still with that shocked expression plastered across his now frozen face, he slid to the ground with a thud. Dead.

  * * * *

  Chapter 25

  Evelyn

  I’d never killed a man before.

  Of all the horrible things I'd done in the past year and a half, killing hadn't been among them. I’d always thought that taking another human being’s life, however vile they were, would feel awful. But as I looked down at Brigs’ blindly staring eyes, I felt nothing but relief. The man who had made my life hell for so long was finally dead.

  “Evelyn.” Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me away from the sight of the bleeding body on the floor. “Are you hurt, my love?”

  “No,” I mumbled groggily, resting my head against Marcus’ shoulder. My body, apparently deciding that as long as he was there it no longer had to keep me upright, went limp with exhaustion as adrenaline slowly seeped out of me, and I sagged in his arms.