Straight, No Chaser: A Mafia Alpha Bad Boy Romance

by Nikki Belaire

  The waitress scoops up the twenties I lay on the least sticky spot I can find on the Formica. I guess I'm getting my exercise in the outdoors today.

  Eli mumbles incoherently but his eyes remain shut as I hoist him against my shoulder. Punch drunk on sugar, sunshine, and spoiling, he slept the entire ride home. Exhausted by too many hands of go fish and too many tubes of cupcake frosting. Gram Judy knows how to keep a kid happy.

  His head lifts as the garage door closes. "Are we home?"

  "Yeah, we are."

  "Is Molly here?"

  I sure as hell hope so. "Probably."

  He nods against my neck, fighting against his grogginess from his excitement to see her. A struggle I totally fucking understand.

  Neither of us has to wonder any more. She sits at the kitchen table. Deep in thought furiously typing on her laptop. Her cute legs swinging against her stool. Yellow flip flop dangling precariously from her right foot.

  "Molly!"

  Her head flies up, and she yanks down her ear buds. A huge smile brightening her sweet face. For him. Not me. All of her attention laser focused on Eli. Like I'm not even fucking there.

  “Hey buddy, I missed you.”

  He slides down my body. His feet barely touching the floor before he races to her. Relief steals his drowsiness completely.

  “Does your belly still hurt?”

  Realization of my lies frowns her forehead when her gaze meets mine.

  “No, now it’s just my heart.”

  Fuck me. That fucking stings more than I ever imagined. Totally deserved but still torturous to my own chest.

  His face falls with worry. “Can we still play cars?”

  “Of course. I’ll be okay. Eventually.”

  Yep, that's a kick to my balls. Shocking how she can fucking inflict such deep pain with just a few words. “I’m going for a run.”

  Neither of them cares about my so fucking obvious escape. Eli already racing to his room, while she stares at me. Her broken spirit visible in her body jerking off her seat. Arms wrapping around herself before she follows the only other person in this house, who still has a heart, to his room.

  "What do you want to do boss?"

  I stare at the piece of shit in front of me. Hanging limp from my two bouncers' corded arms, artworks of intricate black tats covering their skin. Stupid motherfucker ruined my plans to get fucking wasted again tonight. A bad habit I need to break but just can't seem to.

  Getting the shit beat out of him for shoving one of my waitresses isn't fucking enough. He thinks he can get away with manhandling my employee over an incorrect drink order? Hell the fuck no.

  "His ride here?"

  Satisfaction warms my veins when Lucky dangles a small key ring from his pudgy fingers. He knows me and my perverse style of revenge too well.

  "Baby shit yellow Vette."

  Fucking shame to ruin something so beautiful. Damn. Molly's glorious pussy splayed across my kitchen table screams into my thoughts.

  I shake my head, and my guys glance at each other. Confused that maybe I want something different than my usual punishment. Can't let anyone have any fucking doubts. About me. Or my orders. "Torch it and make sure the bastard is conscious enough to watch."

  I sneer and their heads bob in unison. Relief softening the uncertainty lining their faces. The motherfucking boss is back. At least in appearance. My head's still a fucked up mess. With or without whiskey.

  They drag his ass to the back while I stride through the VIP section. Nodding at a few prominent deal makers. Even that rapper that's so fucking hot right now. Fuck I'm getting old and I can't remember his god damn name. But at least I know his face. I signal the waitress, holding up two fingers and point to him. Drinks for him and the girl bouncing on his cock. Earning me a chin lift and a chest tap.

  Just making sure you and your crew return, my friend. Rising stars are always good for business. So is the boss making his rounds. The surprise on some of their faces doesn't get past me. I was right - too fucking complacent. People need to remember who the fuck I am.

  The god damn king of fucking Chicago. Not some pussy whipped ass who can think only of his woman. I don't need any of that shit. I feel better already. Returning to what I've been missing all along.

  A humid breeze steals my oxygen as soon as I step outside. Sweat beads instantly running down my back as I stride to the empty parking lot two buildings down in this abandoned industrial complex. The perfect environment for my gaming parties. Exclusive, expensive, and inconspicuous. In and out before dawn. Everyone drunk, happy, and satisfied.

  Except for this sorry loser. Sick laughter mingles with the begging of the asshole who now realizes the consequences of my wrath.

  "I'll say whatever you want. Do whatever you want. Just don't do it!"

  None of my guys pay any attention to his pleading. I've never felt higher than from smelling the accelerant Lucky splashes across the leather interior before tossing in the entire can and slamming the door shut. Glass shattering onto the gray asphalt from the already cracked window.

  "No! No! No!"

  He's literally fucking crying. Fat ass tears rolling down his swollen cheeks as fast as his kicking legs trying to escape. No chance motherfucker with the Smythe brothers holding you. Fucking scary beasts that I fucking love having on my payroll.

  Gasoline wafts from Lucky's fingertips when he hands me the final supplies required for our bonfire. Squatting down in front of the ass wipe, I can’t hold back a smirk from the absolute pleasure rolling through me from his torture. His eye red and throbbing. Blood dripping down his temple from the gash across his forehead. "Need to learn to keep your hands to yourself motherfucker."

  "I will! I promise! I'm begging you!"

  His head twists in agony as I swipe the match across the cracked ground and bring it to the tip of the fat stogie between my lips. Cuban, my favorite. A long, deep inhale before I toss the tiny flaming stick over my shoulder. Funny how some of the smallest weapons can cause the greatest damage.

  One last pitiful sob before orange flickers in his huge eyes. Got to jet before the flames singe my new suit. Which would really piss me off.

  Lucky gives him one last kick to his balls before he leans over him like a fucking mammoth. “Tell anyone it was us and you die.”

  Simple, straightforward, and oh so true. We leave his sorry ass wailing on the ground. Just like he deserves.

  The remainder of the evening flies by. Catch my brother fucking some girl on a surprisingly still operable hoist. Slice the throat of one the new dealers who thought he could short me. Deflect the chick slinking up to me who stupidly thinks I might be interested in her dirty, wasted ass.

  All in a night’s work of easily clearing two million. Give or take from the piles of hundreds and twenties stacked on Teri’s makeshift work table. Her hands are a blur as she counts. A great talent to add to her brilliant mind. But I dare not speak to her. Even with a compliment. If I fuck up her tally, she’ll try to fuck up my balls.

  Phillip responds to my nod, confirming the crew is almost done breaking down the equipment and loading them into the tractor trailers waiting in the loading docks. “Have a good evening, boss.”

  “You too.”

  Almost morning actually. With the deserted streets, I make it home by four. Like a fucking addict I glance at her window first even though I fucking swore I wouldn’t. Dark like the rest of the house. Good. Asleep like she should be.

  My cock twitches from the thought busting into my mind of her in my bed rather than her own. My heart pounds as I hustle to my room to take a shower. Desperate to be free of the grime and sweat coating me.

  Empty.

  Fucking perfect. Because I would’ve just had to kick her cute little ass out anyway. Back to where she belongs. Which sure as hell isn’t here. Or with me.

  My hand pauses on the knob after I slam the door shut behind me. It’s so fucking late she probably won’t come anyway. Which is no big fucking deal. P
robably beyond furious that she’s now fully realized what a jack ass I am. That she’s better off without me. That she deserves better. And, I should be alone.

  I slowly turn the lock. A satisfying click against the metal signifying the end. Glad to finally be through with all that bullshit. Now I’m free just like I’ve always wanted.

  11

  Chapter Eleven

  I look as shitty as I slept. Fucking great way to meet with DeMarco. His first impression of me will be that I’m a fucking bum.

  The few times I actually drifted off last night were filled with dreams of her knocking. Begging me to let her in. Not just my bedroom. But in my heart. Which is too fucked up to make room for her. Too cruel a fate to sacrifice her to the devil.

  I unlock the door, another reminder of my path straight to hell. Sparkles of light shimmer against the silver knob. A circle of black and white diamonds sliding around the handle. Fuck me. No words needed for her to wound me as much as I’ve wounded her. Proof that she’s over me too. Good.

  Message received, angel.

  In the kitchen, the collateral damage is worse than I suspected. She’s just as broken. Dark circles rim her dull eyes. Ruby splotches canvas her ivory skin. Loose hair hiding half her face. Never lifts her head while she helps Eli spread peanut butter on his toast.

  Even he seems impacted, not uttering a word. Just furtive glances between me and her. Like he used to do with Harper and Dad. Like he fucking knows. God damn it.

  I fucking force a cheerful expression. “Hey little man. Once you finish eating I’ll drive you to school.”

  Her pitiful gaze finally meets mine. The same suspicion scrunches his face too. He hates change, especially when it impacts his time with her. “But Molly usually takes me.”

  “Well, she has something she has to take care of while we’re gone so I’m taking you today.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  He looks to her for reassurance, and of course, she gives him a solid smile. No doubt or hesitation. She’s a fucking amazing actress to be able to make him feel like everything is all right. When both of us are fucking dying inside.

  The racket from the blender mixing my protein shake is the only noise to break the silence. Each of muted from the uncertainty engulfing us.

  After a few more bites and a long drink of milk, he hops down and races to the door. “Got to get my backpack!”

  She stands up too. Obviously unwilling to spend a second more with me than she has to. Too bad we’re going to be alone together for the next twenty-four hours. “I’m having dinner with an important business associate and his wife tonight in California. I need a date. You’re going with me.”

  Disbelief or disgust – not sure which, probably both ‒ lifts her chin. A furious gaze bores into me like daggers. "No."

  I step closer and jerk Eli’s plate out of her hand. Hulking over her to make sure my message is crystal clear. “You. Are. Going.”

  Fury swirls with fear in her expression, but she powers on. Fucking making me want her more. “I’m a nanny. I take care of Eli. That’s what you hired me for, remember?”

  She taps the side of her head, implying my idiocy she’s stuck tolerating. Ignoring my dick hardening from her smarting me off, I smooth down my jacket. Calm as if dealing with any other insubordinate employee. Although they would be dead for talking to me like that. But I’m nice enough to let her insolence slide. "There's a clause in your contract that reads, Other duties as required. This trip is one of those duties."

  We stand off. Neither arguing or backing down. But I will win. I always fucking win.

  "Fine." A rage I've never heard before burns in her voice. "But you can hire a prostitute for your other night duties. I'm not your hooker."

  She has no fucking idea how much that angers and turns me on at the same time. But, I’m a mean ass bastard who lashes back when I’m hurt. “You’re fucking kidding yourself baby if you think I’d ever have to pay for sex.”

  I expect a slap. But instead, she sucks in her bottom trembling lip and spins back to the counter. Busying herself with tying the bread wrapper. Her fingers shaking so much she drops the twist tie twice before she manages to get it fastened. Fuck.

  “Be ready to go when I get back. Bring something nice to wear for dinner.” Maybe I can be a little bit nice. “We might go the beach too before we come home tomorrow so bring a suit.”

  “I need to tell Eli goodbye.”

  My gut fucking drops even more from the sob in her whisper.

  “Make it quick.”

  God I’m a cruel bastard. I just can’t seem to stop being a total asshole. This is what I want, so why the fuck am I hurting her more than necessary. Proof of why I’m fucking insane. Because deep down, I want her to fight back. Fight for me. For us.

  With a curt nod, she brushes past me and runs out, following my little brother’s path. With no other choice, I head to Eli’s room too, where she and my little brother cling to each other.

  "I'm going to miss you. I wish you didn't have to go." Eli's small hand rubs her blotchy face, wiping away the watery trails. "Why are you crying?"

  On account of his big brother is nothing but a fucking bastard. Putting her through hell she doesn't deserve. And now him too.

  "Because I'm going to miss you so much. But I'll be back tomorrow and we'll eat dinner together, okay?"

  “Taco Tuesday?”

  Her head bobs and she smooths down his hair. Comforting both of them. Yet, failing to tame down his wayward locks lifting on his crown. “Yes, Taco Tuesday.”

  "Will you bring me a present?"

  She laughs through her tears. "Of course."

  That appeases him, and he runs to his play table. Grabbing a barn and a handful of tiny horses that he's suddenly become obsessed with. The burgeoning happiness in her expression fades when she catches sight of me watching them.

  "Bye, Eli. I love you."

  "I love you too."

  Yeah, it’s only me she despises.

  "Come on, Molly. It's time to go."

  I shove open her bedroom door. My god damn fucking house. I don't have to fucking knock. But it's empty. Just like my bastard heart.

  Fuck. Why the fuck am I always looking for this girl. When she should always be right beside me. In front of me. I can’t stifle a groan. Fucking under me.

  She sits still as a statue on the front steps. Elegant and dainty with her straight spine and slender legs tucked to the side. Covered to the knees with billowy lavender fabric. The same black bag from the night she moved in rests at her feet. Funny how long ago that seems. How quickly all the hope from that night has evaporated.

  As soon as the SUV stops, she hops up and opens the passenger side door. Tossing in her suitcase and climbing in. Fuck me. Sending a clear message we are very much employer and employee from now on.

  "Hi Kurt!"

  He gets enthusiasm while I get nothing but contempt. Which I need to fuck out of her. If she'd let me touch her again. I drop my ass in the backseat. Grateful for the time to work in silence. I don’t have any fucking patience for her childish games. Or Kurt’s fucking snicker under his breath.

  For thirty-five agonizing, long ass minutes, they chat quietly in the front seat. The movie she’s going to take Eli to. The blueberry pie she hopes to make before the season is over. Maybe finding a place here for Eli to take riding lessons if he really enjoys the horses when we visit her family.

  All the things she used to talk about with me. Sharing everything on her mind and in her heart while she nestled against my back. Her arms wrapped tight around my chest. Damn, I fucking miss her already.

  The pilots stand on the tarmac, waiting for us as we pull up. Prompt and ready as always. Of course, she doesn’t wait for the chauffeur to open her door. And sure as hell not me either.

  "Good morning, Mr. Ellison, Miss Bennett. It should be a good flight. We might experience a bit of turbulence immediately after take-off but, it shouldn't last long. We'll have a brief fuel sto
p in Kansas, and can expect to arrive in Los Angeles around 4:30 local time."

  "Thank you Brian."

  The man nods and gestures for us to board. She jerks away from my hand on her lower back. Fine. I don't give a fuck. She can get herself inside. I'll just enjoy watching her sweet ass while she stomps up the steps.

  I blink when I climb into the cabin, adjusting to the dim light. She sits in the last row, her gaze glued to her hands in her lap. Damn it. I drop down into the first seat, ignoring the brief look of surprise on Justin's face from us sitting apart. His expression quickly falls to neutral when his eyes meet mine, and he glances at Brian, following him into the cockpit.

  Yeah, even they know how fucking stupid I am. I should beat both their asses for their impudence. But it's really me who deserves to have my ass kicked. I'm fucking up with this amazing woman for no other reason than I'm a motherfucking bastard.

  Once we reach altitude, I unbuckle my seat belt and stride to the small bar. Grabbing her some water. I don’t have time for her to get fucking dehydrated. We've got a long day ahead of us.

  She never looks up as I approach her. “Thought you might need this.”

  “No thank you.”

  So it’s going to be like that. No problem. Suit yourself. I drop the bottle into the closest cup holder on the table nestled between the double facing rows. Silence bores into my back, stinging more than a bullet as I return to my chair. I’m happy ignoring her too. Fucking thrilled actually. No rambling. Or timidity. Or huge smile that lights up her gorgeous face every time I caress her soft cheek. Or her gentle hand touching me with her sweet affection.

  Fuck me. I glance back at her. She rubs her hands up and down her bare arms. I don’t know what the fuck she was thinking wearing a sleeveless dress like that. Doesn’t she know how fucking cold it is when you fly. Then it hits me like a two by four. No, because I’m a dumb ass, and she’s never been on a plane before. Like a pussy I trudge back to her. “There’s a blanket in the drawer under your seat.”