CLASS ACT (A BRITISH ROCKSTAR BAD BOY ROMANCE)

by Julia Gardener

I knocked harder.

  I was about to give up all hope.

  That’s when the door began to open.

  I didn’t even need to look through the door’s peep hole to know who it was. I could sense it was Kelly. The young woman had this strange aura around her that was driving my sixth sense haywire. She would be the end of my career as a hitman if anyone ever used her against me.

  After coming home from a fruitless meeting, all I wanted was a night of rest.

  The meeting had been interesting enough. Some of our Russian rivals were getting bolder. Some members of the family wanted to strike back at them. Others didn’t want to rock the boat and attract the FBI. There was no point in cutting the nose to spite the face.

  However, no one could make final decision without Don Pastore having his say. I knew my grandfather was getting old but it was yet another meeting he had missed. Frank Pesci, the underboss, held the meeting. I would’ve worried about my grandfather’s health if I didn’t hate that man so much.

  Nonetheless, I was glad to be out of that meeting as soon as possible.

  Now, some neighbor was knocking on my door.

  I barely knew Kelly. She was just this forgettable college girl who I profiled before moving in this apartment. We had barely even seen each other before today. I didn’t know why she was banging on my door and asking to be let in.

  Then again, there were these strange men making rounds in this hallway. One of them was American but the rest sounded native Russian. They had the nasal whine in their accents I’ve always associated with the criminal type from border of Ukraine. What the hell was the Russian mob doing here?

  This got a lot more interesting.

  With a handgun held behind my back, I ever so slightly opened the door. “What do you want?”

  Tear-stained eyes greeted me. “It’s me, Kelly. You have to let me in!”

  I hated when a woman turned on the waterworks. Most men say a woman’s best weapon is between their legs but it was their tears that always got to me. I never liked seeing a woman cry any more than I liked seeing my late mother in tears.

  I tightened the grip I had on my handgun. If this was a trick to lure me out, I had to admit it was a clever one. The only question was why she was here. “What’s wrong?”

  “They’re after me!” she whispered in desperation. “I don’t know why but they’ll kill me. Please, you have to help me!”

  I heard footsteps from the men in question. The smarter side of me told me to not get involved. If this was the Russian mob, then I had no reason to get caught in the crossfire. The Pastore family looked like saints next to these guys.

  Then again, the Russians had been making a power play lately. It wouldn’t be long before they were in open conflict with all of the big Italian families over territory and their less than legitimate businesses. It wouldn’t necessarily be good for someone in my line work.

  Hitmen were valuable during peacetime. We were silent and efficient in our assassination techniques. If you needed someone gone while maintaining your plausible deniability, I was the man you came to see. Mob wars required brute force and foot soldiers. I wasn’t as valuable in an all-out gang war.

  Besides, I never would miss an opportunity to fuck over the Russian mob. We had history between us. It went back to the death of my mother.

  “Get in.”

  Kelly rushed as I closed the door and clamped the lock shut. The footsteps outside passed us without incident. She had just missed whoever was after her. I gave a good peek through the peephole to make sure the coast was clear.

  The young woman slumped against the wall and gathered her breath. “Thank you...”

  “What the hell is going on?” I asked. Kelly looked shell-shocked. I hadn’t seen that look in anyone since my days as a marine. “Who are those men?”

  “I don’t know who they are,” she sobbed. “They killed my father. I went out to get groceries and they tried to abduct me in the middle of the street.”

  Another day, another tragedy. Nothing ever changed in this damn city. “How’d you escape?”

  She gave a soft laugh that sounded more cynical than a girl her age needed to be. “I kicked one of them in the groin. But dad’s dead and they’re still after me…”

  That was pretty impressive for someone her size. “Do you know why they’re doing this?”

  “I think it had to do with his job,” Kelly said, gathering her breath. “He worked as head of security for this big company… the Atlantic Corporation. They tried to bribe him into giving them security access but he said no.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “It must have been a big payday if they’re willing to rack up a body count. Then again, this is Bratva we’re talking about.”

  Kelly shot me a look of confusion. “Bratva?”

  “The Russian equivalent of the mafia.”

  “Russians? Are you sure?”

  “I can’t say for sure but this sounds like the work of the Russian mafia,” I explained. “One of the men after you sounded American, though.”

  “He’s one of my dad’s coworkers,” she answered. “His name is Harold. He works at the company but he might not have my father’s level of security access.”

  I nodded and tried to piece everything together. “Makes sense. Although, it looks like things got out of hand. Even the Russian mobsters know not to rock the boat if you can avoid it. Sending civilians to the morgue just attracts the police. Worse, they’ll get the FBI’s attention.”

  The young woman sighed and got up. “Why is the Russian mafia after me?”

  I shrugged. “That makes two of us. I suppose you’re a loose end that they have to take care of.”

  “I have to go to the police and-”

  “Any criminal organization worth a damn has their agents infiltrating the police,” I sighed. Kelly had entered my dark, twisted world. She had to learn how it worked before she got herself killed. “If you go to the police, some dirty cop will spill it to the Russian mafia. They’ll have you exactly where they want you. Hell, they could eliminate you and make it look like a tragic accident.”

  Kelly gulped. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. Can I stay here?”

  This college student had just brought the Russian mob to my doorstep. I liked to poke the hornets’ nest but I knew not to bust it open. “Out of the question.”

  Her eyes pleaded with me. “Please, just let me stay until I figure out what to do.”

  The wheels in my head began to turn. Kelly had brought much danger as she had gifted me with an opportunity. The Russians had a hand in the death of my mother. Sergei Petrov had support from one of the Russian drug kingpins when he went up against my grandfather.

  The Irish mob may have pulled the trigger but it was some Russian drug kingpin who had supplied them with guns and pointed them at my mother. I had done investigation on my mother’s killers in between my hits. He was some Ukrainian who had seized power from the previous head of the Russian mob and entered into conflicts with the Italians, Armenians, Chinese Triads, and just about every criminal organization who competed with their businesses. He targeted my mother to send my grandfather and the Pastore family a message.

  I had killed the Irish attack hound but his masters still remained. Sergei and his accomplice were still out there. The problem was that the Italians had kept me on a tight leash. I couldn’t just barge into the Russian territory, especially without a contract. It would inflame the already tense relations between the family I worked for and the Russian mafia.

  However, Kelly may have solved this dilemma. The Russians had come and brought their mess to my doorstep. They had threatened my cover and inevitably brought the police to my location. Rules dictated I could give them retribution for this act. There would be nothing stopping me from getting my revenge. At the very least, I could investigate them and find any clues on Petrov’s whereabouts.

  It was probably the only chance I’d get and I needed the girl’s help. She could have valuable informatio
n. “Kelly, we might be able to help each other.”

  The girl stopped crying and lit up. “Really?”

  Our conversation was cut short by the sound of footsteps and loud talking outside. “Stay here.”

  Kelly whispered. “Who is it?”

  I looked through the peephole. It was a large entourage of policemen and paramedics. The other tenants, many of them half-asleep, opened their doors to see what the commotion was about. One woman fainted when she saw that they were transporting a dead body.

  “Police and the EMT,” I said grimly, pulling out my handgun from my holster. Thankfully, it didn’t look like the police were going door to door with questions. “They’re hauling out your father’s corpse.”

  “Daddy,” Kelly sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “I have to see him. One last time-”

  “You go out there and you’re as good as dead,” I said sternly. She was older than me when I lost a parent. Yet, she responded with sorrow when I replied with anger. “Who knows whether or not one of the policeman is a spy for the Russians? Trust me, you don’t want to see the corpse of a loved one. That kind of thing sticks with you for life.”

  The young woman seemed so emotionally spent. She took in a deep breath and took a seat on the couch. Suddenly, she glanced at me. “Why do you have a gun? The apartment doesn’t let you keep firearms.”

  “For shooting people, why else?” I replied in irritation. “Keep your voice down and we’ll be able to talk. If the police come for questioning, you go to the closet in my bedroom and stay there until I tell you to come out.”

  “You have a nice place,” Kelly, said, looking exhausted. I always made sure to keep my apartment immaculately clean. It was a trait I got from my mother. Besides, I didn’t want to hire a maid and risk her discovering my gun collection. “Very clean.”

  I gave the hallway another glance before sitting down next to her. “The policeman and paramedics are pulling out.”

  “What am I going to do, Jackie?” she sighed. “I’ve lost everything.”

  I was never good at these kind of conversations. “The first day is always the hardest. Find something to do with your life and it’ll help you deal with the pain.”

  “Jackie, why do you have a gun?” she asked again. The woman’s curiosity was going to be the death of her. As well as me for that matter. “You have to be a cop to have one in this building. You’re not a cop, are you?”

  “Do I look like a cop?” I retorted. My mind began to hatch a plan. I needed to get the blessings of the Pastore family before I could have my revenge. In the meantime, I had to keep the woman safe. “Do you have any relatives you can go to? Someone you can trust like a school friend?”

  “Most of my relatives are dead or in nursing homes,” Kelly answered. She seemed resigned to her new life as an orphan. Or maybe she was just too emotionally exhausted to care. “My college friends are in another state.”

  “Figures,” I mumbled. “We have to get you to safety.”

  “Can I stay with you? I can do chores and earn my keep.”

  The young woman looked desperate. If I didn’t have a code or was just some degenerate, I could’ve had her begging for sex. Kelly was as good as putty in my hands. But if I did that, I wouldn’t be any better than the men who killed my mother.

  Besides, Kelly wouldn’t be able to survive in this wicked world. Her life had gone pear-shaped in the span of a day. She’d have to live on the streets and steal in order to survive.

  This would be her new reality. The only thing men would see in her was another body to fuck in exchange for a few dollars. Worse, they would rape her and live her to rot on the side of the street. I couldn’t let that happen to her.

  “You can stay for the night,” I answered with a sigh. “I’ll sleep on the couch and you can take the bed-”

  I felt soft, feminine hands wrap around my muscular frame. Kelly buried her face against my chest and sobbed. I hadn’t been held like this by a woman by a long time. Most of my lovers were more interested in my cock or my wallet than any real intimacy. “Thank you, Jackie.”

  “I should be thanking you,” I replied. “You’ve finally given me a means to have my revenge.”

  She shot me a look of confusion. “Revenge?”

  “A story for another time,” I replied. The less she knew, the better. “I’ll move you to my safe house later. It’ll attract less attention.”

  More importantly, it’ll get her away from the scene of the crime. Her father had been murdered only a few doors down from her. Who would want to live so close to a murder site?

  She nodded. “Okay…”

  I took her hand in mine. That’s when I realized how soft it was. My hand was hard and callused from years of training and hard labor. “I’ll show you to my bedroom. You can sleep there, Kelly.”

  She gave me a strange look.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Sorry,” she said, looking downcast. “My dad always make sure I went to bed on time, even when I got older. I used to hate it whenever he did that…”

  I could relate to missing the things her parent did for her. “You should rest.”

  I led her to my bedroom. Like the rest of my house, everything was meticulously clean. I simply hated clutter. It was an aspect of my professional life that had bled into my personal life.

  Kelly sat on the bed. I almost hated to leave her. However, I had work to do.

  “Go to sleep,” I ordered. Hopefully, I didn’t sound too much like her father. “Don’t open the door if anyone knocks. Don’t go wandering outside. And most of all, don’t go to your apartment. It’s a crime scene anyway. They’ve probably put police tape around it.”

  “Got it,” she answered, her face looking half-asleep. “Where are you going?”

  I put on my jacket and inspected my handgun. “I’m going to try and find some answers.”

  Kelly stared at the gun for a moment. Nevertheless, sleep began to overtake her. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.

  It was time for me to get to work.

  I awoke staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. I rubbed my eyes as if to vanquish a bad dream. However, the strange ceiling still remained.

  I got up in a bed that was not my own.

  It hadn’t been a bad dream.

  My father was dead. Strange men were after me. Jackie had offered me shelter for the night.

  I felt as though I had run a marathon yesterday. I wanted to lie in bed and sleep another ten hours. However, I felt compelled to get up and explore my new home. Besides, it looked like I slept through much of the day.

  It was funny to think of this place as a new home. My apartment was only a few doors down. It was now a crime scene. The people after me had seen to that.

  I wished I had brought a change of clothing since I had gone to sleep in my street clothes.

  Jackie’s clean, unpretentious furnishings matched his personality. I barely knew anything about the man. Yet, I had placed my life in his hands.

  Who was he exactly?

  He knew his way around a gun. He wasn’t afraid to break the rules. He had intimate knowledge of the city’s criminal organizations. I could be assured he wasn’t out to get me. He could have easily done it at any time.

  I wandered the apartment which didn’t take very long. Jackie had opted for the one bedroom style as opposed to the larger type I lived in. The man loved simplicity.