Killing Mary Jane: A Dark Romantic Thriller

by Amarie Avant

  All he had to do was see Mary Jane’s face to know. He stacked two of the three boxes and was prepared to grab the third one as Megan came to his side.

  “Let me help you with those,” she said, pulling the third one into her arms.

  “I’ve got it.”

  “I see. Looks like you have one foot on the race line already.” Megan started toward the porch. “Mom makes the best chicken enchiladas in Southern California. You’re welcome to stay.”

  They glanced toward the kitchen. From this distance, Wulf couldn’t hear the cheerful banter between Mary Jane and Keegan. “No, thanks.”

  He made a quick trip into the house and when Megan dropped the box by the couch in the living room, he placed the other two there. Their ‘goodbye’ was awkward as he reached out a hand, and she gave him a quick hug. In seconds, Wulf was outside closing the trunk of his car.

  “Wulf, you idiot!” Mary Jane shouted. Arms folded, she stood on the top of the patio.

  “Me?” he asked bitterly.

  “You just dropped off my shit—”

  “Watch the language, young lady,” Vincent snapped. Wulf hadn’t noticed the tiny man had taken a seat on a chair at the furthest end of the porch, cigarette in hand.

  “C’mon, Dad, like father like daughter. Close your ears if you need to.”

  “I will not.” The sides of Vincent’s mouth creased a tad. He was secretly delighted in the quip.

  Wulf cut in. “I’m an idiot because I didn’t make it into the building to save you and Bree?”

  She bit her lip. “It’s…”

  He rubbed a hand along his face in defeat. “I tried my best to make it to the two of you, and with the Feds holding the perimeter too—believe me, I tried.”

  She scoffed.

  He grabbed the door handle. “What happened? You saved yourself! Bravo, MJ.”

  “Mallory,” Vincent interjected.

  Mary Jane scoffed. “Fuck that, Wulf, fuck ‘bravo!’ And fuck the fact that you think you can be an asshole to me right now.”

  “How am I being an asshole? My tone was congratulatory.” I’m being an asshole because you should be my Mary Jane, not Keegan’s Mallory.

  “Hello! You just dropped off my shit, and then ran with your tail between your legs.”

  His eyes widened. Jaw clenched, he regarded Mary Jane in the same manner as he once had. The thorn in his side. They were arguing across a lawn anyway. A flat effect marbled his face; his tone became emotionless. “I returned the rest of your things. Most women would say thank you!”

  With an eyebrow raised, Mary Jane turned around and stalked back into the house.

  Lava boiled through Wulf’s veins.

  “That’s all?” Vincent sat high in his chair.

  “Yes.” He turned away only to see Keegan at the end of the driveway, placing a few quarts of oil into the big dumpster.

  Keegan nodded at him. “Mallory is about as stubborn as Vin. You are aware of that, right?”

  “I am.” Wulf regarded him while searching his cargo pockets for his car keys.

  “So you’re leaving? Drop of her stuff, adios, end of story?” Keegan slowly stepped toward him.

  The sudden urge to punch the man’s face in took over. Wulf hadn’t been so angry since accusing Brenda of tricking him into taking her money when he was a teen.

  “End of fucking story,” he said, opening the driver’s side door.

  “Hmmm, that doesn’t sit right with me.” Keegan’s soft voice deepened. “I know Megan doesn’t want you around. Meg’s happy that you brought Mal home, and that’s all. Under any other circumstances, she’s truly the nicer of the two. Megan just sees you as a part of Mal’s nightmare. Though she is grateful. She wants all sorts of therapeutic services for Mal and for her to shed this part of her life. You included.”

  Hardly listening, Wulf slipped into the seat, noticing his keys in the cup holder. He scoffed at himself, having never made this mistake and snatched them up.

  He had another problem now. Keegan continued to chat, while standing behind the car. “Mal never gets what she wants. She’s too much like Vincent. Too stubborn to speak from the—”

  Wulf leaned out of the window. “Move.”

  “Nah, I’m not moving.”

  Wulf got out of the car. He walked around to the back of the car and glared down at him. “I will move you.”

  Keegan placed his palms up. “Look, Mal is my best friend. You can’t leave, not until you go inside. Talk to her, tell her you love her.”

  “Yes, fucktard, tell her that you love her.” Vincent spoke up from his reclined position on the porch chair. “I do believe I was wrong about misjudging you. Because you’re still the dumbest motherfucker I’ve laid eyes on. Keegan no longer counts. I’ve known the little pansy too long.”

  Keegan rolled his eyes at the snub, but glared up at Wulf.

  “Why would I tell Mary Jane I love her?”

  The neatly dressed man shook his head.

  The back door of his car opened. Mary Jane placed a box into the back seat. “Keegan, he thinks he can get rid of me easily, well, he’s got another thing coming.” She turned around and stalked back toward the house with Wulf on her heels.

  “What the hell do you mean, I intended to get rid of you!” He grabbed her arm.

  “You just drop by, drop my shit off, and poof! You’re done with me?” Mary Jane argued through gritted teeth. He just stared at her like he did when she was at SCPD.

  But Wulf was bitter about loving her. “You haven’t answered my calls in a week. You wanted to go home. Now you have Keegan back. Your entire family, MJ!”

  Mary Jane rubbed the back of her neck and smiled. “Damn, I had such an enjoyable conversation with your mom a few days ago. Brenda told me how hard it was to get through your head that she loved you.”

  Wulf’s eyebrows scrunched together. “You spoke with my mom?”

  “I know your sister’s family lives with her. I called around at the police station. Quincy gave me her number and invited me to dinner, and she answered. It was the first of what I assumed would be many chats with her.”

  He gripped her arms and felt like rattling her, instead spoke sincerely. “But why did you just shut me out after coming home?”

  “Before Juarez allowed you to pick me up, she explained that the women who were brainwashed all chose locations. Live by the ocean. A small town. A big city. They chose places and were given money to start over. Juarez asked me where I’d like to ‘start over.’ Those words sounded so good. Start over. It’s the same thing I forced you into doing when leaving Santo Cruces. She showed me a bank account that many men would kill for, just as each other woman had received. I declined.”

  His knuckles caressed her shoulder as he listened.

  “The women are getting their memories back. The moment I said no, Ariel gave me another opportunity, even greater than the last. She said I could be an advocate for the women. There are so many of them, Wulf.” Mary Jane’s voice quivered. “Knowing that I’m capable of helping others, I decided that I cannot be afraid of reality.” She scoffed and added, “I have to keep in the loop too, since Linda Curbelo is out there somewhere living the good life.”

  Wulf admired Mary Jane’s gumption and the slight pursing of her lips as she mentioned Linda Curbelo. He loved the life in her eyes when mentioning justice.

  Mary Jane chewed on her bottom lip and added, “Juarez said the bitch dropped off the grid in Italy. What a better reason to be grounded in reality than hopefully being the first to know about Linda’s whereabouts and helping other women who suffered more than I have.”

  “So in order for me to be the best version of myself for us and for the women that I plan on helping, I had to come home. I had to right my relationships with my parents, my sister, and Keegan. I learned that Peter gave me a pill to abort my baby with Keegan. It was hard to handle. Keegan is my best friend, so we’re pushing through that now. But you and I have gone through hell. Wil
l you let us start fresh in the real world?” she begged. “Wulf, I had to do this by myself for a while, but it’s always been us, and I love us.”

  He blinked, letting her story simmer in his brain. He saw a future with her.

  “Dammit, Dylan,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “You never call me Dylan,” he growled, pulling her waist toward him.

  “I need your attention.” She locked her arms around his neck and rose to her tippy toes. “Wulf, I love you. Don’t make me find Peter’s brain scrambler, because I don’t want to change you into my robot. I love you as you are, but I refuse to let you go.”

  Thanks for Reading

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  About the Author

  Mother of two. Wife of one alpha. And alpha to his alpha.

  Lover of thrills and enticingly sexy chills.

  Okay, so I thought that sounded like an interesting way to sum up who I am. But the quick, punchy line didn’t allow me to add how much I love Taebo (hey, I have been kickboxing with him for almost two decades), movies, movies, movies, and I love Christmas. I can be so goofy and at other times I will focus on my darker persona where I bring to you dark action thrillers. I attended Azusa Pacific University graduate program. I received two Bachelors and a Masters in Counseling. And as you may have been able to tell, I have a fondness for the mind of a psychopath.

  Did you forget to join my newsletter for a #free book . Also, the readers in my Facebook Group Amarie Avant’s Aroused love saying which characters they miss … big hint, I keep hearing that Victor D’Ross needs another book.

  Alright, before you go, I beg of you to leave a review on Amazon. I’d also like to interest you in my upcoming Romantic Suspense “August” that includes two parts alpha. I thought of the bajan heroine while listening to singer, Rihanna. She’s not an easy girl to wrangle for the cowboy, August. So turn the page for a sneak peak.

  AUGUST: A Romantic Suspense

  AUGUST

  Texas

  “We’re sitting outside a convenience store, in the middle of the night, to grab KY-Jelly for …” Addy gives an infectious giggle, glancing out of the window of my Chevy Silverado. It’s the dark of night, but those old-school, big-bulb Christmas lights twinkle from the roof of the Lone Star Convenience Store before us.

  “KY-Jelly for your parents,” she finishes with a chuckle. A red warmth creeps over her cheeks due to ‘sex’; sex and my crazy ass parents – or highly intelligent and sexually enlightened parents, if I must.

  My father is a gynecologist and yet the only pussy he enjoys belongs to none other than the woman he has been married to for almost thirty years. My mother is a therapist, by way of centering and elevating a person's sexual appetite. And to round off the family tree, I’m a hitman for hire, while Addy is the sweetest thing I’ve ever known in a world full of corruption. She’s a kindergarten teacher at a swanky private school. We met while I was assigned to murder the father of one of her students—fucked up, I know—but it was the best thing to ever happen to me.

  Addy’s porcelain skin is glowing from my proposal of marriage earlier this evening, and she can’t quite keep her gaze off the princess-cut diamond sitting high and mighty on her engagement finger.

  Her brown eyes sparkle as she tugs her bottom lip through her teeth in embarrassment. “Are you gonna drop me off at home first? We should…”

  “Addy, they’re aware we live together—but, if you insist.”

  “Very southern gentlemanly of you,” she says, smile bright “While you drop them off, I’ll have your surprise waiting …”

  Her voice is as light as a feather with anticipation. My good girl wants to be bad for me, but my train of thought is on my parents. I’m watching them, and I can’t tell where one of their limbs or where the other’s begins, and not because it’s midnight. An aura of laughter surrounds the tipsy pair as they walk down the aisles of the store in search of KY-Jelly.

  The Middle Easterner who is manning the station looks like he could use a cold beer.

  “Look at them, glued together like flies to a pig’s buttocks.” I shove a hand through my tuft of dark blond hair, though I’d rather pull the tie away from my Adam’s apple. Jeans and t-shirts suit me the best. It also feels weird when I’m not wearing my cowboy boots; I’ve taken many lives with my steel-toe bad boys. “Grammy didn’t have on her daggon glasses when she spiked that Eggnog tonight.”

  “And you just did a good deed, offering to drive your parents’ home. You also have the cutest grandma ever, Auggie. Stop being so hard on everyone.”

  I shake my head, wondering how I ended up with my eccentric parents. “Wait a minute, you talk structure in your classroom. Well, I command it in my life.”

  “A routine for five and six-year old students is to raise their tiny hands when asking a question and not run down the hallway, so your analogy isn’t working for me, buddy. You just got engaged, try to smile.” Her tiny fingers weave through mine.

  As she talks, I glance at my parents and a rush of adrenaline prickles in my veins. Eyes narrowed, I survey the various large windows, sweeping the entire scene in an instant. A kid with a baseball cap slung low and a hoodie is standing near the cash register and keeps shifting around. His back is toward me, and I can’t quite make out why he’s hesitant.

  “Addy, when I get out of the car…” I say, and the hardness of my voice jars her shoulders and steals the sparkle from her gaze.

  Now my glower alternates between the kid at the cash register and another teen, wearing the same high school hoodie, who just entered.. reach past her to the glove compartment and command, “Lock the door and—”

  “What are you doing?” she squeaks out the words as my forearm grazes across her knee. I undo the latch of the glove compartment and pull out my .9-millimeter.

  “Addy, listen to me. Lock the door and don’t open it!” This is the first time in our relationship that my voice has raised. Addy's light, airy laughter falls dead the instant I break it to her that I have transitioned from my position as bounty hunter to hitman. And after it sinks in, she cries some, too.

  “Wha-what?”

  Eyes enriched with sincerity, I hold her gaze and say, “I love you, Addy.” This instant declaration steals the fear and fretting, which is enough to gather her attention again.

  I growl, “Now, do it!” and she jumps just about out of her seat. “Do it now Addy,” I order, getting out and slamming the door behind me in an instant.

  I’m heading up the curb as the two hoodied teenagers one is hold up a gun to the cashier. High beams brighten behind me. Before I can turn around to see if it’s someone giving a warning to the patrons or to the robbers, the gun is now pointed to my dad. All the years of combat training flash before my eyes.

  The fight has never hit home

  Not until this very single moment

  “Dad!” My voice pierces through the night. “Dad, look out!”

  I burst through the glass door as a fragmented bullet blows a hole through the cashier. And then the second teenager, the one nearest my parents, aims for my father’s chest and pulls the trigger. Two slugs pierce through my father’s heart and another shot pierces my mother in the middle of her chest. Taking aim, I squeeze the trigger and a shot fires through the back of the gunman’s head.

  A needle of pain plunges into my bicep, courtesy of the gunman near the cash register. The left arm of my suit jacket is instantly warmed with sticky, red blood and I turn, quickly. A bullet that was meant to take me out pummels through a litre of Coke. My shot slams right between the guy’s eyes. The pocket change he’d just grabbed from the cash register is clutched in his hands as he falls to his knees. Postmortem eyes on me as he slowly slumps to the floor.

  I’d kill him again.

  My world stops as I step toward my parents. Though I've seen the streets rain with blood, my eardrums almost burst as I
head over to their lifeless bodies.

  “August!”

  Addy!

  I stand. Addy’s no longer in the car. She’s standing outside of the truck, arms awkwardly tensed at her sides, fingers trimbling. There’s a figure behind her.

  The man in a ski mask is about two inches taller than her; five seven, stocky built. He’s standing just behind her and to the side. There’s a spider tattoo on his neck, in blue ink. His arm is draped over her shoulder as if they're friends. The barrel of the Smith and Wesson in his hand taps, ever so softly, against Addy’s heart.

  And then he takes the shot…

  Thank you, I hope you enjoyed the preview. Now, I beg of you to review Killing Mary Jane on Amazon, Goodreads, tell a friend, tell two friends…