Those Boys Are Trouble

by Willow Winters

  Arousal shoots from my chest down to my heated core. The thought of him leaving turns me on so damn much. He still ties me up when he leaves, and fucks me so fucking good when he gets back. I love it. I live for his touch. I clench my thighs and close my eyes trying to hide my desire. Not that it matters. He knows how depraved I am. And he loves it, too.

  But playing during the daytime has waned a bit. I’ve been busy with shopping dates and luncheons. The women in his family are so friendly and open, I can’t possibly say no to their invitations. He always ties me up at night though. And I fucking love it.

  My eyes shoot open and I stare at the canvas. This is supposed to be done tonight, and it needs at least two days to dry completely. I bite the inside of my cheek contemplating what I should do.

  “You need to get this done, don’t you?” he asks, picking up his mug off the table. He grabs mine as well and walks to the sink.

  “I really should,” I say, as I take in more details of the painting. I should take advantage of this inspiration while I can.

  “When I get back...” Vince walks over to me, and reaches under my nightgown to cup my pussy. He breathes on my neck and puts his lips up to my ear, “...you'd better be ready for me.”

  His words send a shiver down my back. My lips part and a small moan of lust escapes me. He turns me to face him and gives me a sweet kiss on the lips. I deepen it. I want him now. I always want him.

  “Did you hear me, sweetheart?” he asks with a slight threat in his tone.

  I look up at him through my thick lashes and place my hands on his chest. “Yes.” I plant a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  He smiles down at me. “That’s my girl. I’ll be gone for a few hours.” He gives me another kiss, then gives my ass a squeeze before leaving me in the dining room.

  I watch him as he leaves. I’m not sure what he’s doing tonight. But I don’t ask. He told me if anyone asks, that he plays the stock market. I sigh, feeling a little empty inside. I don’t like lying, but luckily for me, no one has asked in the half a dozen times I’ve left this house.

  I shake off the ill feelings and get to work. I add a little white paint, and then some black onto the easel. I need a really faint shade of grey though. As I dig though a mason jar of brushes for my favorite thin one, my phone goes off.

  Becca. I grin from ear to ear. Baby time!

  I answer the phone and have to refrain from asking if her water broke. She told me she’d stab me if I asked one more time.

  “Hello?” I answer in a playful, singsong voice.

  “I need a trampoline,” she says as clear as day on the phone.

  “What?” A trampoline?

  “I need to get this baby out! My fat ass needs to get on the trampoline and have gravity do its thing.” I bust out laughing. I freaking love her. I smile as Rigs barrels into the room, wagging his tail that moves the back half of his body. He looks ridiculous. This dog is going to be huge when he's fully grown. I walk to the back door and let him out while she talks.

  “I need to get this painting done and then have a nice glass of wine,” I sigh into the phone as I shut the door, leaving him out to play in the fenced backyard. It’s a large backyard. It’s the perfect size for a trampoline or a swing set. I rub my belly, thinking we could have a little one someday. I could be complaining about heartburn and backaches like Becca does. I think I’d go with a swing set though. Trampolines seem a little scary for little ones.

  “Well, have an extra one for me,” Becca says with a laugh. I smile at Becca’s playful tone, and then my heart stops.

  I can hear Rigs snarling and growling, and then all of a sudden he's barking like crazy. My blood freezes, and my body goes numb with paralysis. I’m not okay. I turn to race to the backyard to get him. I need to get to Rigs. I don’t make it two steps before the front door smashes open, and I scream and drop the phone. My body nearly falls to the ground, I just barely catch myself, and I cover my head with my arms before staring at them with wide eyes.

  There are three or four men, all dressed in long-sleeved black shirts, wearing ski masks, covering their faces. One of them is pointing a gun at me as the others move around him, walking toward me with determined steps. One barks orders at the others. He sounds Hispanic. The responses he gets sound like American accents though. I try to pay attention to the details. I scream it out, hopeful that Becca will hear. “Four men! One is Hispanic! Gun! Al--”

  A hand whips across my face, knocking me to the ground. A metallic taste fills my mouth. I see my phone on the ground. My heart sinks. It’s off. It must’ve hung up when it fell from my hands. She didn’t hear. My eyes close with failure. I know they’re going to take me. I know there’s nothing I can do. My body goes limp. I won’t fight them. Not here. Not now. Not when I don’t have a chance. I didn’t just start living for them to come and kill me. It’s not going to happen like this. I won’t let it.

  Someone kicks me in the stomach. I try to curl inward, but they grab me. The last thing I see is a fist coming at my face as one man holds my arms to my side and pins my back to his chest. The fists lands hard on my jaw, and the world fades to black.

  I don’t fight it. I’ll wait.

  And when I wake...

  I will make them pay for taking me away from Vince.

  Vince

  I tap the small, black velvet box in my pocket as I get out of the car and shut the door. I can’t wait to ask her. Well, I’m not going to ask. I’m going to tell her she’s marrying me. It’s been enough time that Ma will approve. She calls me after their lunch dates. I’m glad the two of them get along. Nothing at all like the relationship Elle has with her mother.

  I cringe remembering how she reacted when I told her Sandra went to rehab. Maybe once she’s out and stays sober Elle will believe she’s changed. It seems like the more time she spends with the familia, the more resistant she is to forgiving Sandra. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it just hurts me thinking she won’t have a relationship with her own mother.

  My phone’s going off again. I know it’s Dom. He’s been calling to get my ass down to the docks, but I told him yesterday, today, they would have to wait a while. Right now it’s all for her.

  I gotta pull the trigger on this. She deserves this for putting up with me. For fitting so perfectly into my life. That, and Ma will kill me if I don’t put a ring on her finger before knocking her up. Part of me still thinks the familia’s waiting for her to run. But putting my baby inside her is gonna change all that for them. And this ring on her finger.

  As soon as I see the door, I know something’s off. Adrenaline pumps through my blood and my heart races. The door’s cracked. It’s been kicked in. The wood is splintered from where the door was locked. I always lock it behind me. Fuck. Fuck! I take the steps up slowly and pull out my gun. I want to call out for her. I need to know she’s safe. But, I have to be smart.

  I already fucking know who did this. I know it was Shadows MC. They’re a bunch of fucking liars. They’ve been working with the Locos Diablos. They set them up to take the fall. But Tony got all their transfers and finances. I grind my teeth as I walk silently through the house. Rigs barks and paws at the back door. I walk to the dining room first. Two chairs are turned over and her canvas is on the ground. Broken. The paint is smeared on the tabletop. Her phone’s on the floor.

  Mine goes off in my pocket again and I answer it. I know they’re gone. Looking around the room, it's obvious they took her and ran. They want war.

  I answer it and hold the phone to my ear.

  “Vince! 'Bout fucking time! Becca’s been--” Dom yells through the phone. I keep my eyes on the entrance to the dining room, just in case someone’s here, hiding and waiting to jump me. But I know they’re gone.

  I cut him off. “They took her.” I swallow the lump in my throat.

  “Elle?” Dom asks after a quiet moment.

  “Yeah.” I bite back my emotions and let the anger come through.
“Tony has their info?” I swallow the lump suffocating me and clear my throat. I put the phone back to my ear to hear him rattling off something in my ear.

  “I don’t want to risk going to the wrong place. We need to split it up.”

  “You sure that’s smart, Vince? We could be outnumbered easily. They’ve got at least 10 of 'em at any given time at either the clubhouse or the warehouse.”

  “Well we’ll have the advantage of coming up on 'em. They don’t know that we’re on to them. They have no fucking clue. But if we all show up to the wrong place, we’re fucked. They’ll know. They’ll…” I don’t say it. They’ll kill her. I know they will. My chest pains and I struggle to take a breath. I can’t even imagine what they’re doing to her now. I don’t want to think about it. But I can’t help it. “I swear to God, Dom. I swear I’m gonna kill them.”

  “I know. I know,” he says solemnly.

  “I gotta go now. Text me the address.”

  “You need back up! Don’t be stupid, Vince!” he yells back.

  “Tell them to meet me there,” I tell him. I can’t wait. I won’t.

  “You won’t do her any good if they kill you first.” Fuck. I hate how right he is.

  “I can’t wait.” I can’t just stand here. She’s most likely at one of those two places. And if she’s not, someone there will know where she is. And I’ll make them talk. I’ll find her.

  “I’m on my way. I’ll call the guys now. I’ll split 'em.”

  I nod my head. I can’t talk. I try to, but my throat dries out and closes. If they killed her... If they put their hands on my sweetheart... I shake my head and focus on getting her back. I have to believe it’s possible.

  “Hurry up, Dom. And text me that address.”

  Elle

  “We need to get her out of here.” I wake up groggy, to a voice I don’t recognize. My back is to them. I know they’re behind me. I’m lying on my side, and I can feel a cool breeze on my face. I remain still and silent, and I’m sure to keep my breathing even. My face is killing me. My temples pound with pain. But I ignore the painful throbbing. I do a mental check. It’s only my face and my side that hurt.

  They didn’t bind my wrists. I try to keep the smile off my face. Thank fuck they’re behind me so they can’t see my relief. Vince was wise to tie me up. These fuckers have underestimated me. My heart pounds in my chest, but I keep forcing myself to breathe evenly. I listen to them. I’ll wait until I can strike. I couldn’t do anything back at the house, with all of them on me at once. I just need to wait until I have a chance.

  I’m sure Vince will come. But right now, I can’t rely on him. I don’t know if he’ll get to me in time. I also don’t know how much time I have. I listen and wait.

  “You really think this is going to work?” someone behind me asks. His voice is deep and throaty, like someone who’s smoked his whole life.

  “It’s their signature move. They’ll definitely believe it’s a message from the cartel.” Another man, one who’s closer to me.

  “They’re a bunch of pussies.” I can hear three men in total laugh. So I’m up against three of them. Those aren’t good odds. I don’t think I could take out three. My heart sinks. I won’t give up hope though. I just need to try to take them on one at a time. I can manage that. I will manage that.

  “Thought they’d have already gone after them. They move slow.” My eyes slowly creep open as I continue to take stock of my situation. I’m facing a cinder block wall, lying atop cardboard boxes. My arm is above my head and it fucking hurts. I want to move it but I don’t. I lie still and wait. Smoke fills my lungs with the smell of cigarettes and I hear a drag being taken.

  “I want at her first.” My eyes open wide, but I keep my breathing steady.

  “You’ll wait your turn.”

  “You sure they won’t be able to get anything from the video?”

  “Yeah, we’ll edit it to cover our voices. It’ll look just like the cartel’s threats. Vince is a fucking stupid hothead. I know they’ll go in for the kill as soon as it’s sent.”

  The men laugh again, and I try to keep the sickness I'm feeling from creeping up my throat. But I can’t. I nearly vomit at the image they’ve put in my head.

  I’m fucked. I know it, too. A hand grips my hair and yanks my head back. I scream out with tears creeping out of the corners of my eyes.

  “Our little bitch is up.” I want to close my eyes, but I can’t. A bald short man with yellow-stained teeth stares back at me with a menacing look. He's got a sick grin plastered on his face. From his voice, I recognize him as the one saying their plan will work. I decide to think of him as the planner in the group.

  His nose is nearly an inch from mine and I take the opportunity to spit in his face. He wipes his face off with the back of his arm and then backhands me so hard I hit the cement ground with enough force that I nearly go unconscious.

  “Get her ass up here.” I hear him move around as I hear more heavy steps come from behind me. “We can all have a practice round.” A sick, disgusting chuckle fills the hot air as I’m pulled up onto my feet. I turn around and kick the fucker as hard as I can right in his balls. The second hurls himself at me from my left side, and I ball my hands into fists, and draw back to punch him, but the first man's arms wrap around my front and hold me back. Fuck! No!

  “No wonder he kept this cunt. I hope she fights us every time.” A tall, thin man with oily black hair smiles and walks closer to me with his hands out to reach for me.

  I don’t care that I’m being held back. I’m not going to stop fighting. Vince would want me to fight. As soon as this bastard’s close enough, I push my weight back and throw my legs up to kick him. The bald man holding me tilts backwards as he's knocked off balance, and my foot gets high enough to knock the guy square in the face. His head flies back as I fall to the ground and when I look up, blood’s pouring from his nose. I don’t waste a second, but the man behind me is faster. He wraps his arms around me and pins my arms in place. He holds me close and I’m trapped. I struggle against him, but I’m trapped in his hold.

  The door to the room flies open.

  “They’re here!” A man barges into the room, completely out of breath.

  “Who’s here?” the bald fucker asks, his vile breath filling my nose and I try to push away from him again.

  “Valettis!” the man yells, and the men all exchange quick glances.

  “I’ll tie her up. You three go now!”

  They run out of the door and the bald man reaches into his jacket and I know what he’s getting. I lunge at him. I’ll pry it from his hands if I have to. I’ll scratch, bite and claw. I latch onto his wrist while it’s tucked at his side, gripping the gun, and sink my teeth into his arm as he fires a shot that hits the wall behind him.

  He screams from the pain and pushes me away, but I bite harder, until his flesh rips from his arm and I spit it out, digging my nails and fingers into his arm and back.

  The man looks down at me with a twisted snarl on his face and tries to shove me away. It gives me enough room to elbow him in his ribs and as he hunches over, the gun falls to the ground and goes off.

  This is my chance. My only chance.

  Vince

  The tires screech and I jump out before we even come to a stop. I know they have cameras here. If there’s anyone looking, they’ll see us coming. I don’t want to give them time to hide her. Or worse.

  I hear Tommy and Anthony call out from my right as they each pull out their guns and run up to my side. Uncle Enzo and Pops are coming, too. Dom has Tony and Joey going with him. A few of the soldiers should be there waiting for them, too. Every last motherfucker is going to die.

  I stand in front of the large doors and Anthony opens them up, staying behind the doors as a barrier. Not me. I’m planted right in front with my guns raised, one in each hand. As soon as I see those fuckers I fire.

  They don’t even see it coming. Immediately I take out three MC assholes. Got one in the
chest. Bang! Another in the head. Bang! Bang! Another tries to run, and I shoot that fucker in the back. Bang! Bang! Bang! I walk into the larger room. Stacks of coke and pot are on my left. Bricks of each of them, wrapped in plastic. A bagging station is on my right. Their operation is shit. And now, it’s fucking over. As I walk in a gunshot goes off to my left and I fire. Bang! Bang! Bullets fly by me from my right. They whiz past me in what seems like slow motion. Anthony gets a kill. Another MC fucker in leather drops behind a counter. He was counting the cash. With the doors open the wind blows the money off the table.

  I walk over to the fucker who got a shot off. Looks like a gunshot caught him in the neck. It must've hit an artery, judging by the way blood gushes out from the wound as his heart pumps. He’s clutching the wound with both hands as blood pools around his head and soaks his hair. His eyes focus on me. He tries to speak, but blood coughs up his mouth. I point the gun at his head and pull the trigger.

  I keep walking at a fast pace with my guns raised. My heart beats frantically, trying to jump out of my throat and the only sound I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears. But on the surface, I’m a cold-blooded killer, walking with purpose, moving with a deadly calmness that would frighten sociopaths. I have one goal in mind. Only one thing that matters.

  My girl. My sweetheart.

  Three men run out with guns firing, and a bullet hits me right in the chest. I fire off both guns. One man’s downed immediately but the other two move off to the side to take cover behind an old rusted car. Tommy and Anthony go up the right side and duck as the guns come up and fire aimlessly. I take a step forward and aim. I hit the hood right where the hand was and hear the bastard swear. That’s not good enough. If he’s talking; he’s breathing. I walk forward and watch my guys go up the right side, sneaking behind. I’ll distract them. I run up close and fire continuously. Four more shells each. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! They sound off one after another, after another, until I’m firing blanks. I keep pulling the trigger, letting the empty clicks fill the air. I want them to know I'm empty. I'm counting on them to stand up and fire at me. And they do. As soon as they’re visible, shots fire from behind them and both men only get a single shot off. One just misses me. But the other lands on my chest, close to the first shot that hit me.