Step Bride: A Bad Boy Mob Romance (Includes bonus novel Honored!)

by Hamel, B. B.

  I pushed open the old wood door and took in the dim room. Immediately, heads snapped in my direction, and I noticed a man or two looked surprised. They must have recognized me, though I couldn’t place them. The bartender, Davin, gave me one glance and immediately walked into the back room, not bothering to hide his movements.

  Smirking, I sat down at the bar. I had to admit, I loved making an entrance, even if it meant that I was about to get a bullet in the back of my head. It felt nice to get a bunch of tough guys riled up. It was the sort of shit I lived for. Not long after sitting, two big guys sat down on either side of me, obviously O’Brian’s muscle.

  “Hey there, boys,” I said.

  Neither of them answered.

  “Not talkative tonight?”

  I looked at the big guy to my right and grinned. He stared back with dead, lifeless eyes. He was a terrifying bastard, I had to give him that, though I suspected he was more bark than bite. The guys up front tended to be that way; you kept your real scary boys in the back, in case you really needed them. Most drunk idiots were kept under control by the threat of violence. It was the men who didn’t mind violence that you needed to worry about.

  “Well, at least buy me a drink,” I said to the guy. “I mean, if you’re going to be sitting so close.”

  He didn’t react.

  “Tough crowd,” I muttered, looking away.

  Davin reappeared from the back and walked directly over to me. I could sense more than a few eyes glued to me. I guessed more than a few guns were, too, and I was careful not to make any sudden or threatening moves. I had to appear calm and in control, otherwise I’d risk some idiot with a revolver getting nervous and shooting the place up.

  “Hey, Liam, what are you doing here?” he asked.

  “Whisky, no ice,” I said.

  He stared at me for a second, and then he shrugged and started to make my drink. He placed the glass in front of me, half full with my favorite blend. I picked it up and sipped it, smiling.

  “That’s what I needed,” I said.

  “Okay, now what are you doing here?” He looked impatient and nervous.

  I shrugged. “Hoping I could talk to the boss.”

  “Not sure that’s a good idea.”

  I sighed. I didn’t expect them to roll out the red carpet, but I had hoped for a little more courtesy. Then again, I was still alive, so that was pretty good. I knew Davin from way back; he was actually O’Brian’s number two guy. He was a good earner, and although he wasn’t the toughest man in any room, he was always the smartest.

  “Tell him I have a business proposition for him.”

  Davin shook his head. “Word came down about you, Liam. You’re officially on the blacklist.”

  I smirked and took another sip of my drink. The blacklist was a relatively new invention of Colm’s, started when he took over the Mob. It was a list of wanted men, typically men who rebelled against him or were somehow untrustworthy. Men on the list carried a bounty in exchange for killing or capturing them. I briefly wondered how much money Colm valued me at.

  It had better be a lot.

  “Stop bullshitting me, Davin, and tell O’Brian I need a few minutes.”

  “He knows you’re here, and he isn’t interested.” Davin paused and stared at me as I took another sip. “You should leave.”

  I sighed, bowing my head. I hadn’t expected it to be easy, but I also hadn’t expected O’Brian to turn me away completely. We did have some history, he and I, at least through my father. I was glad he wasn’t murdering me, but I didn’t understand why he was keeping me alive but not talking. With a grunt, I pushed back from the bar and stood up. The two goons immediately stood up with me.

  “You sure he won’t change his mind, Davin?”

  He shook his head. “Just go, Liam.”

  I sighed again and moved fast. I stepped around the guy on my left and darted toward the back. The guy grabbed at my shoulder, half turning me. I reached up and gripped his hand, digging my fingers into his wrist and index finger, and twisted hard. He cried out in pain as his joints locked and flexed, on the verge of breaking. I kicked him in the back of the knee, dropping him to the floor, careful not to let the bones in his hand snap.

  The other goon responded, coming at me hard. I shoved the man on his knees forward, releasing his hand and sending him sprawling, as I ducked under a heavy right hook from the second goon. I came up with a fist to the guy’s gut, doubling him over, and then punched him three times in the kidneys. He stumbled forward and dropped onto his knees. I stepped back, readying myself for the second guy to get back to his feet and come at me. Time felt like it had slowed down as adrenaline coursed through my body and my mind began running through the next few moves.

  “Enough,” I heard a voice call out.

  Everyone stopped what they were doing. My heart was hammering and I was intent on the two men in front of me, but even I was brought up short. I looked over and saw Boss O’Brian standing in the doorway to the back room, staring at me. He gestured for me to follow him.

  I grinned over at Davin as the two goons unsteadily got to their feet. He shrugged at me. I looked back at the other two guys.

  “Sorry about that, fellas.”

  “Fuck you,” the guy I had kidney punched spat.

  What a sore loser.

  I walked around him and followed Boss O’Brian into the back. He pushed open a doorway that lead into a large, richly furnished office. Pictures of him shaking hands with more than one mayor were hung up on the walls, plus him with other important city officials, including at least two state senators over the years.

  O’Brian was in his mid-sixties, about the same age my father would have been. He was round in the middle and balding on the top, and sometimes a soft Irish accent drifted through in his vowels. He wasn’t intimidating to look at, but he was one of the most feared men in the city. He rubbed elbows with politicians and bribed police chiefs on a regular basis, and he had probably committed more crimes than any man alive. If he was ever caught for anything he did, I was sure he would spend years in jail.

  “Liam Sullivan, as I live and breathe,” he said, lowering himself into his chair.

  I sat down across from him. “Boss O’Brian. I’m glad you’re well.”

  He laughed. “Well? I’m a fucking mess, kid. I’m old and I’m fat and Colm is bleeding me dry, and now you show up at my fucking door.”

  I laughed and nodded. “I’m sorry I came without notice.”

  “Fuck the notice. Just try not to break my bouncers next time.”

  I grinned and he laughed.

  “What can I do for you, kid?” he asked.

  Right down to business, then. Usually we’d sit there, shooting the shit, maybe share stories about my old man, have a drink or two, but not this time. Although he was his usual affable self on the outside, there was something underneath the whole exchange, something ominous. He didn’t need to say anything to let me know that I wasn’t welcome.

  “I guess you know what happened already.”

  He nodded, staying silent.

  I continued. “Colm is a monster, you know that. He was going to murder a civilian, a kindergarten teacher named Ellie Boucher. All because she was unlucky enough to stumble on Colm’s idiot muscle dumping bodies in a public place.”

  O’Brian held up his hand. “What does this have to do with me?”

  “I know you have your issues with Colm. He’s changing the way we do things. He’s making our lives less profitable and much more dangerous. I know you want him gone, even if you’re not saying it. And I’m here to offer you my strength in turning him over. Between the two of us, we can take him down, and install you as the new boss.”

  I stopped talking and waited. He stared at me for a few seconds and then let out a long sigh. He looked at his office, gesturing around him.

  “Do you know how I got all of this?” he asked.

  “Because you run a good business.”

  He nodded.
“Exactly. I run a damn good business. When Michael was the boss, even though I didn’t agree with a lot of what he did, I kept my head down and ran my business. And I grew my territory. Now, I’m one of the richest, most powerful men in the city. Do you know how I got that?”

  I blinked. “By running your business?”

  “No, you fucking idiot. I got that by not getting involved in Mob politics.”

  His face was calm, but there was a menace underneath his words. I was surprised to hear him say that, considering he had been one of the most outspoken opponents of Colm in the beginning and had always been a part of big decisions when Michael was running things. And yet there was he, claiming not to be a part of politics.

  The man was so full of bullshit that he stank.

  “You’re blacklisted, Liam. How much muscle could you possibly bring to bear for me, even if I did decide to try this little coup of yours? You’re a fucking pariah to the Right People. And for what, for some kindergarten teacher? Maybe you have some men who are loyal to you above anything else, but it won’t be enough.”

  He paused, and the implications of his speech began to sink in. I felt a stone set itself at the bottom of my stomach.

  “Give it up, Liam. Kill the girl, apologize to Colm, and hope he lets you live. Otherwise, it’ll only get more difficult from here.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t do that. I just can’t do it.”

  He nodded sadly. “I know you can’t, kid. I don’t agree with what Colm’s been doing lately, but he’s the fucking boss now. You either adapt or you die in this business, and I plan on adapting.”

  “You know Colm is going to tear us all apart. We can’t keep going this way for long. You’re the man we need in charge. You’re the man who can put all of this back together.”

  He held up one hand. “That’s enough, Liam. Now, the only reason you’re not dead is because I respected your father, and I like you. But never come back here. Never speak my name to anyone. From here on out, consider me an enemy.”

  I gaped at him, shocked. I felt a chill run through my body.

  “But you know Colm isn’t right.”

  “Stand up and leave now. Walk out of here and be happy I didn’t kill you.”

  Without another word, I stood, and I felt like everything was crumbling around me. I knew it was a long shot, getting O’Brian on my side, but it would have meant everything. Now, my plan was gutted, and I was going to have to work with almost no resources. The world felt like it was crashing down around me.

  As I turned to go, O’Brian spoke up. “He’s offering your whole territory to whoever finds you and finishes you off, you know. Don’t trust anybody.”

  I looked back at him and nodded.

  “Good luck, kid.”

  I opened the door to his office, strode out through the main bar, ignored looks from Davin and the two goons, and went out into the night. The sun dipped down below the horizon, bringing on the soft darkness of twilight. As I climbed into my car and started the engine, I promised myself that I would keep Ellie alive no matter what.

  I didn’t care what the cost would be. I had to protect her. I had to make her situation worth the blood and the destruction.

  And my plan wasn’t completely ruined. I still had my ace tucked firmly up my sleeve. There was still a chance.

  There had to be.

  Chapter Fourteen: Ellie

  Liam promised he’d call Chelsea, and then he disappeared. It was late, probably around six or seven, but he said he had some business. That man could be so frustrating sometimes, treating me like a child and not telling me what was going on.

  I stretched out on the couch, staring blankly at the television playing some reality TV show about young girls raising kids. I believed what he told me, or at least I believed most of it. I didn’t think he was lying to me, but I sensed that he was leaving some stuff out. It was the omissions that I was most interested in. I trusted that he was genuinely trying to protect me, but I was terrified that I couldn’t help myself if he wasn’t going to tell me everything I needed to know.

  My whole body felt heavy, and I heard my stomach growl. I hadn’t eaten since Liam’s eggs earlier in the morning. We had talked for most of the day, and I had asked him pretty much every question I could imagine. My biggest issue was why we weren’t going to the police. He kept saying that Colm had his fingers in everything, and that even going to the cops wouldn’t keep us alive. I had a hard time believing him; if that were true, why did they care if I called the cops in the first place? It was more complicated than that, he had said, and I sighed.

  It just made no sense. I couldn’t help but ask, over and over in my mind, why me? Why did I have to see what I saw? And why were they dumping dead bodies in a public place?

  But Liam didn’t have the answers to those questions. He could only frown and shrug his shoulders, as if that were answer enough. Maybe he was used to violent men trying to murder people, but that wasn’t something I could easily adjust to. I may have had my own darkness in my past, but it didn’t nearly touch what Liam lived with on a daily basis.

  I had to admit that he impressed me. Despite everything, he was still willing to risk his life to save mine. He could have easily killed me, or at least let me be killed, and moved on with his life. But he tore everything up, put himself in the most danger possible, just to keep me alive. I hated him and blamed him, but I knew that none of it was really his fault. I just didn’t know what else to do. I felt trapped, caught in an impossible situation, and completely powerless. He was the only one who could fix our situation, and I was stuck lying on an old, uncomfortable couch watching shows I hated all day long.

  When we spoke, there was a glimmer of something deeper down inside of him that I didn’t think he normally showed. It was something like honesty, or sincerity, and that was what kept drawing me to him, above everything else. It definitely helped that he was gorgeous and ripped and dangerous, but that was only a small part of him.

  ––––––––

  It felt like hours before I heard someone messing with the front door.

  I had a moment of deep panic, and I jumped up off the couch, skin turning white with fear. I looked around like a crazy person, searching for some kind of weapon. What if it wasn’t Liam? He hadn’t told me what to do in case someone else showed up. I grabbed the lamp from the end table, ripping the cord from the wall, as the bolt unlocked and the door swung open. I held the lamp above my head, ready to smash it on whoever walked through.

  “Whoa there,” Liam said, holding up two bags of groceries like a shield.

  “Fuck, Liam.”

  My heart was pounding.

  “It’s okay. It’s me.”

  I stared at him and suddenly felt like an idiot. I lowered the lamp, turning red with embarrassment. He peeked out from behind the bags and grinned at me, this huge cocky grin.

  “Calm down, warrior princess.”

  “You didn’t tell me what to do if someone else showed up,” I said lamely.

  He nodded, expression turning serious. “Beating them with a lamp is probably a good start.” He paused and grinned. “I’ll be more careful next time. I’ll knock three times before coming in.”

  I nodded. He took a few steps into the room, moving close to me and frowning. I had the stupid urge to reach out and touch his stubbled face, to feel his skin and to kiss along his chin. Instead, I looked away, ashamed of my overreaction and of the heat that built in my core.

  “You can put the lamp back. It’s really okay. You’re safe here.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, putting it on the end table.

  Liam shut the door and moved into the kitchen with his two big grocery bags as I plugged the lamp back into the socket. I walked over to the front door, slid the bolt back into place, and followed him into the kitchen. He was busy unpacking the bags, putting fresh vegetables and other food into the refrigerator and the pantry.

  “This should be enough for a few days,” he said.<
br />
  “Thanks.”

  I sat down at the kitchen table, feeling déjà vu, and folded my legs underneath my body. I was on edge, for obvious reasons, and I wished I could fold myself into my own body and hide away from the world. When he was done putting away the groceries, he looked at me and smiled.

  “So, what do you want for dinner? I make a mean mushroom risotto.”

  “I’m not hungry,” I lied.

  I don’t know why I felt so defiant, why I wanted to refuse his offer. For some reason, I felt like if I let him keep cooking for me, I’d give him some sort of control or power over me that I wasn’t ready to give up.

  As if he didn’t already have everything.

  He looked concerned. “Come on, you’re definitely hungry. I’m starving.”

  “Where were you?” I asked abruptly.

  “It’s not important,” he said as he started to bustle around the kitchen, taking out ingredients and setting up pans.

  “It is important, Liam. You need to tell me things.”

  “Look, you’re safe here, and I’m going to fix this. You don’t need to worry about all the shit I’m doing out there.”

  I wanted to scream at him, smack him and shake him. He had no clue what it was like for me, practically a prisoner. Every time he refused to give me more information it was like he made the cage just a bit smaller. I felt like the walls were beginning to press in around me, and he was the only one with any power to spread them apart.

  “If you don’t tell me, I’m getting the fuck out of here.”

  He stopped what he was doing and looked at me. I tried my best to show him that I was serious.

  “You really want to know?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  He sighed. “Fine. I was out at another boss’s place.”

  “What boss?”

  “His name is O’Brian, old friend of my father. But he can’t help us.”

  “So what are you going to do now?”

  “Now, I’m going to make some risotto, and you’re going to eat it.”

  “I said I’m not hungry.”

  “I know you did, but you won’t be able to resist.”

  He went back to cutting and preparing, and I lapsed into silence. I watched him work for a few minutes, chopping and mixing ingredients, and I marveled all over again at how he moved. I had a theory that you could tell a lot about a person by how they navigated a kitchen, whether it was quick and easy, or messy and loud, or clumsy and thoughtless. He was both graceful and precise, with everything laid out exactly in the order he needed it, all within arm’s reach. There was no excess mess or unused pots or pans.