Hang Em' Up: A Bad Boy Sports Pregnancy Romance

by Ashley Stewart

  I'm sure it sounds like rationalizing, but this job really didn't bother me, except for one thing- I don’t kill children. I don't care what the circumstances are, I don't kill children. Adults are fair game because they know exactly what they get themselves into. They know right from wrong, and they are old enough to know better. I pride myself on being meticulous, fast and clean. It's just business, it isn't personal.

  Sometimes someone will ask me if I think about these marks and their families. My quick answer is no I don't. If they didn’t make stupid decisions, they wouldn't reap stupid consequences. I just clock in and out for the mob and I get paid to do it.

  I saw her walking up to her apartment, fumbling with her keys. This struck me as odd because I thought it was common knowledge that a woman should never take her focus off of her surroundings, especially late at night. She should always have her keys in hand ready to go. After all, anybody could come up and attack her. Yes, I realize that's ironic coming from me.

  The outside light was illuminating the front door, and when she stepped into it I noticed her features more clearly. She was a very beautiful woman. A tiny waist, long brown hair and a tight black skirt that hugged her curves. I was still confused why anybody would want to hurt her, even though it was not my business. Still, it just seemed like a huge waste. I wasn't ready to make my move yet. I needed to get closer to figure out what she did when she went inside. She finally got the keys to open the door opened and shut it behind her. A second later the outside light was turned off.

  Chapter 3

  Cierra

  My hands were shaking so bad trying to get the right key in the door. It was becoming nearly impossible. I had been like this all day long. I just couldn't stop shaking. Obviously it was the anxiety from what I witnessed, but that was a couple of days ago. I thought for sure that my nerves would calm down, but I guess walking home late at night like I did on the night of the murder, wasn't helping matters. I kept feeling like somebody was following me on my way home. I looked behind me to see if I could see someone. I passed a group of four people who were obviously drunk and stumbling, laughing and giggling. There were two men and two women together, and even just passing them freaked me out. I had all these irrational thoughts in my head, and I just couldn't stop worrying that I was going to be attacked. I wondered if this was what post-traumatic stress syndrome was like.

  I had my keys ready in my hand, but I dropped them on the ground. I bent down trying to pick them up. Leaving my outside light on was a good idea. I wanted to light up my front door, so it wouldn’t be so dark when I got home. All I wanted to do was get inside of my apartment, lock the door, huddle down and not leave again until I had to. It was becoming a routine. I wasn't happy with becoming a shut in, but the outside world was terrifying to me right now. I didn't know what else I could do.

  I finally managed to put the right key in the lock and successfully opened the door. Once inside, I closed the door and locked the dead bolt behind me and leaned against the door. I tried to slow my heart rate. Maybe I should get a dog? Dogs were noisy alarms that could warn me of any kind of danger. A big dog. A German shepherd, perhaps? Except that they were messy and you had to walk them and I really didn't have the lifestyle that could accommodate the attention a dog needed. Much less the apartment space.

  Maybe a security alarm? Except that they just made noise, they didn't actually help fend off an attacker who was already in my house. A stress headache was forming. I put my purse down and went into the kitchen, searching for some pain reliever. This always happened when I had anxiety. I wasn't even hungry. I was so exhausted and I was sure the headache was a result of not drinking enough water and eating properly. I just didn't have the energy. I was too scared to even turn the lights off, so I left them on in the kitchen and the living room and headed toward my bedroom. I closed the blinds and looked around in the closet and under my bed just to be sure no one was hiding there. I thought I was too old to worry about the bogeyman these days, but the bogeyman came in a different form as a grown-up.

  I got undressed thinking how a nice hot shower would feel. I wanted to wash off all the cigarette smoke and sweat that accumulated on me during work. I wanted to wash away all this fear that I had. Steam formed on my bathroom mirrors as I adjusted the temperature. I locked the bathroom door feeling secure enough to actually take a shower. Thoughts swirled in my head as I washed my body. I kept hearing noises that weren’t there. Was I was going to be like this forever? Was I always going to worry about any kind of bump or noise and assume it was an intruder coming to get me? I began to cry. The hot drops of water covered my tears as I sank down into the corner of the shower and continued to sob. I needed to get out of this town. The sooner the better.

  ***

  Giovanni

  I watched her walk in her house. When I knew she was safely inside, I got out of my car and walked across the street to the house. I looked for any kind of unlocked windows or doors. That was usually the path of least resistance. It made things much easier. She had protected herself well as everything appeared to be secured and locked. I went around to the bedroom window. The blinds were drawn, but there was a small space between the blinds that I could see inside. I saw her undress and then walk into the bathroom.

  I heard the shower running. She was even more beautiful naked than clothed. Her body was tight and curvy; her breasts were perky. Why would anybody want to hurt this girl? I asked myself this question repeatedly. The tight clothes that she was wearing when she came home seemed ill-suited to her. She didn't seem like the kind of person who would choose that wardrobe for herself. I realized that all the waitresses that worked along the night club strip wore that same kind of black skin tight stretchy dress as a work uniform. I assumed that because of the direction she was coming from she was one of those waitresses.

  I frequented those nightclubs a lot, but I couldn't recall if I had ever seen her in one of them before. Of course I had never been looking for her before so it was possible. She just wasn't immediately recognizable to me. She was beautiful, though, and it would be a shame to extinguish such a beauty. But if I didn't do it, there was no doubt that Antonio Geremia would have a contract out on my head. The Geremia family didn't give second chances. They were pretty ruthless. Their methods of extortion and bullying people to get what they wanted were legendary. I personally liked to keep out of the particulars. I’d rather show up and just get paid for the job. I was fortunate that I was able to come and go and that it was only because I worked for him for so long that I built a rapport with him. He had asked me before to join his organization, but I preferred being a freelancer. I was a hired gun.

  I saw her step out of the bathroom naked and lay on her bed. The window was positioned at the perfect vantage point where I could see her stretched out on the mattress. She intrigued me, I admitted it. A mark had never affected me this way. I made the decision that at the risk of my own head I would get more information about who this girl was before I killed her.

  Chapter 4

  Cierra

  The sun shone down between the blinds and caught me in the eyes just at the right angle, causing me to squeeze my eyes closed. It was enough to wake me up. I looked over my nightstand and the clock read 12:00 PM. I was still tired from not having slept the past couple of days, so I laid there for a few minutes before getting up and heading to the kitchen.

  Thoughts of not wanting to leave my house consumed me. I was terrified that someone would be waiting for me right outside my door. What kind of surveillance did they have on me? It was hard to shake the paranoia I felt. I tried not to think about it, but the entire ordeal was very traumatic. The only way I could function and get out of bed was to talk myself out of my paranoia. Maybe I was giving myself too much credit. Maybe those guys wouldn’t pursue trying to find out who I was even though they had my purse with my identification. I realized that fact again and a renewed sense of terror overcame me. They have my driver’s license. They know who I am. Sho
uld I go to the police? Or would they definitely come for me. Maybe they weren’t interested in me at all. Maybe they would just take what little cash I had in my wallet and call it a day. I gave a silent prayer of thanks that I was still alive and that I would never see those men again.

  I opened the cupboard to retrieve the coffee filters. Coffee had always been the first thing to get me going in the morning and I needed that before I could deal with the world. I took the coffee pot over to the sink to rinse it out before setting it back on the coffee maker and putting the coffee grounds in the filter. I flipped the switch on and listened to it gurgle.

  I walked into the living room and flipped on the television. The channel was on a talk show. There was something about paternity tests. Trash TV I called it. I picked up the remote and changed it to a cooking show, which was one of my favorite things to watch. I had never been a great cook, but I was always so amazed at how they could throw things together with just a few ingredients. It intrigued me to watch them do it. I liked to cook, but I really hadn't had much success as an accomplished cook. Usually, I didn't have much time to sit around cooking. I usually threw stuff together or I bought it ready made. Eventually, I'd like to have the time to make meals and sit down and invite other people to dinner, but right now it just wasn't in the cards.

  My mother had liked to cook when she had time. That was when she wasn't working two jobs, or later when she was trying to medicate her issues with alcohol. I wondered what it would've been like to have a big family, sharing holidays and celebrations together, and have everyone functional and happy. I intended to find out one day by having a big family of my own.

  That was the one thing I wanted so badly that I didn't have as a child — stability and a lot of love and support. I had to grow up too fast and become the parent when my mother decided she loved alcohol more than she loved being a mother. I know my mother loved me, but she just couldn’t give me all that she wanted to because her time was devoted to battling her demons. Only she gave into them more than she battled them. It was a confusing and heartbreaking feeling as a kid to realize that a parent that you love, loved their addiction more than you. It took me a long time to realize that the mother I knew early on was no longer there. In her place was an empty being who needed help. More help than I could give her. I wasn’t equipped to help her with her addiction as I was just a kid, but she was the adult and she should have wanted to get help for the sake of her kids.

  That’s been a hard pill to swallow for years. The fact that she didn’t try hard enough. She allowed me to miss out on so many things growing up — prom, dating, after school clubs — so that I could take care of her when she got drunk. I was so mad at her for a long time after she died, until I realized that alcoholism was a disease and she was its victim.

  As an adult, I don’t touch the stuff. The last thing I wanted to do was follow in her footsteps.

  The coffee was ready. I could smell the aroma from the living room. I stood up and walked back to the kitchen grabbing a cup out of the cabinet and poured myself some. The list on the agenda today consisted of wanting to get a quick run in before I had to go to work tonight. Running was always such a great stress reliever for me and I hadn't been able to do it lately. It always lifted my mood when I needed it to. It was always loyal and faithful and there for me and a small part of me was sad for having gotten away from it. I was also scared to go outside, but I figured that if I didn't start now, I may never get back into it. I couldn't let fear dictate my life anymore. I had to rejoin the living.

  My job had become tedious to me. I was smart. I knew that. I wanted a job that challenged me, not just be the object of men's fantasies or groping. I hated fighting off men who thought that paying me a hundred dollar tip meant that they could touch me if they wanted to, or make sick, disgusting jokes. What I really wanted to do was get my nursing degree. I had heard that with nursing I could work where I wanted, what hours I wanted and make great money. The medical field was always going to be in demand, it was recession proof. Then I could get out of this city. Having been stuck here since I was a kid, I've only seen poverty. I have only known how to live on the basic necessities and survive. It wasn't something I wanted to teach my own kids. I wanted to live far away from the city lights.

  I slipped on my yoga pants and sports bra, fastened my phone on my armband and put my earbuds in my ears. I grabbed my keys, opened the door and made sure I locked it securely behind me before going for a run.

  ***

  Giovanni

  “Why does the Geremia family want this girl gone?” I asked Sal.

  He was a guy who worked for the crime boss, a soldier. He and I had become pretty good friends. He was always good for finding out the inside scoop on stuff. He had access to the inner circle. On occasion, he was able to explain the reason for some of these hits.

  “She saw something she shouldn't have and she needs to disappear,” Sal said. “At least that's what the boss wants.”

  “Was it an accident?” I asked.

  “Yes, poor girl, but as you know that's business,” he said.

  “Can she identify them?” I wanted to find out how much she knew.

  “Maybe, I'm not sure,” Sal answered.

  This was not very convincing to me. I was not sure that what I was going to do needed to be done. Yes, I knew that I was in the business of not asking questions and getting the job done. That's why they contact me because they know that I always get it done. Understanding that, I still didn’t think this girl deserved it. It was different. She wasn’t a drug addict or prostitute. She didn't bring anything on herself. It was a coincidence that she was in the wrong place at the wrong time and I didn't feel comfortable about killing somebody for having bad luck on a particular day.

  I was used to snubbing out criminals. People who tried to screw the crime boss by stealing money or drugs, not innocent bystanders. This was an entirely different situation. I wasn’t comfortable with it. It went against my moral compass. I know it sounds ironic as a hitman to have a moral compass, but I've made it a rule not to kill anyone who didn't deserve it. Trying to tell the crime boss that was a different matter. He didn't care. He just wanted what he wanted and he was willing to pay for it. But for me murder was a gray issue. Sometimes I saw myself as a regulator keeping the population under control by doing society a favor and getting rid of the trash. People who added nothing of value, or who were only hurting other people. Personally, I couldn’t stand the crime boss or the flunkies who did his bidding. No one was going to own me like that. I made sure of it.

  Everything this guy stood for was disgusting to me. Still, I was under no illusions, it was part of the machine that had a higher power than what I possessed. I could accept that but I was going to keep clean what part of my conscience I still had by not taking the life of an innocent woman. The only problem was finding a way to keep Antonio in the dark, and keep her away from where she's used to going, because if somebody sees her after I've told him I knocked her off, it's going to be my head. How was I going to do that?

  The only answer was that I would have to befriend her, get to know her and find an excuse to take her away from the city. That was going to be pretty hard to do short of kidnapping her. I weighed my options as to whether I should do that. A bigger question was why did I care so much to keep her safe? I didn't know her. Yeah, she was innocent, but she was very beautiful, and she looked so lost walking home. Something in me felt the need to protect her.

  Chapter 5

  Cierra

  I walked off the tiredness my legs felt and tried to catch my breath. My run felt great. It completely wiped away the stress and tension of the week. It even made me feel a little less scared of the people around me. It was a beautiful afternoon at the beach. I watched as the tourists enjoyed the crystal clear water in the summer sun.

  Heading back to my apartment, I checked the mail. I opened the door and went inside. My intention was to go straight into the bathroom and take a shower, b
ut I was so tired I sat down on the couch and drank water out of my sports bottle. Rubbing my forehead with a towel, I turned the TV on to the cooking channel that I liked and look through the mail. Most of it was junk with a few bills.

  It was exasperating seeing the new bills pile up. Knowing the amount of interest involved and knowing that there was only so much money I could make to pay them all off. It was like a never-ending circle. I could never get ahead. I was always working to pay the bills. It was going to take forever to eventually get out of here. I had a huge credit card bill that an ex-boyfriend charged up a few months ago. Because my name was on it, I was liable for paying the bill if I wanted to keep my credit in good standing. It was weeks before I had realized it and was able to report it. By then he had already caused the damage. Fortunately, he was in jail for another crime, so I never had to see him again, but I was still stuck with the bill.

  My choices in men have not been the best, I admit that. I always seem to run to the bad boys who were dysfunctional. I have allowed their good looks and their bad boy persona to outweigh my good sense. This was why I decided no more men for a very long time. I was going to keep my focus and commit myself to my career and apply for school to get my nursing degree. Maybe in between all that I could figure out why I was always attracted to the bad boys. I definitely didn't want to repeat my mother’s mistakes. We seemed to share a preference for bad boys. They got neither of us anywhere we wanted to be.

  I knew that if I keep my focus and concentrated on getting my nursing degree that one day I was going to escape my past, the poverty I felt in the cycle of dysfunction. I would move out of the city and go on to better things. That was my hope and I intended to see it is a reality. The alternative was living a life like my family and repeating all the same choices they made for their lives. I would do anything it took to avoid a life like that. It made for a miserable childhood. The only thing worse than having a childhood like that is making the choice to live like that as an adult.