Shared: A Dark MFM Menage Romance

by Lauren Landish

  I’m here.

  I wait for a response. Several minutes pass, and nothing. My heart still racing, I look all around the abandoned warehouse for signs of life. There’s only a beat-up Honda that looks vaguely familiar. But besides that, I don’t see anything. Every intake of breath hurts my lungs. It's an odd thing, knowing you're going to die. My body's rebelling, but every memory flashing in front of me reminds me of death. I want to live. I want to run away with Maddox and Damon. Somehow save Mary and live a happily ever after. But that's not an ending for me. I'm not meant to have that. I never had a choice.

  I start looking around the front of the car for something else to protect myself with. I have the gun on the passenger seat, but I was fucking stupid and didn’t even look for bullets when I left. I don’t even know how many shots I’ll have.

  The plan is simple though. I’ll walk in calmly. Raise the gun and refuse to go willingly until they release her.

  And then they can have me. I grit my teeth, hating the need to surrender to save others. I want to fight… but not until Mary is safe. She doesn’t deserve this. I won’t let her die for me. I reach under the seat, and find nothing. I search the center divider compartment and only find a bunch of papers and that medical kit. I stare at it a long time, remembering my first kiss from Maddox before slamming it shut and wiping away the tears with the back of my forearm. I search the glove compartment and see cold, hard steel. It’s some sort of Glock.

  I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see a gun in my life. Now I have two. I don’t know how many more bullets. But each bullet is another chance to kill them first.

  I check to see if it’s loaded. It is. A sigh of relief escapes my lips. But checking the rest of the glove compartment, there isn’t any other ammunition. I have some though, hopefully enough. I’m scared shitless, but at least I have something to protect myself with. If I’m to die, I’m not going down without a fight.

  I check the phone one last time. Still no message. The time reads 9:55. I’m still on time.

  They can’t kill her for me being late. But what if I’m supposed to go in? The thought chills my blood.

  Cursing under my breath, I slowly get out of the car and gently shut the door. The abandoned warehouse looms in front of me like a house of death. I’m loath to step inside. But I can't just wait out here. I know someone or something is in there. Mary could be in there. Gathering my courage, I tuck the gun under the waistband of my jeans and walk across the parking lot as quickly as my cold body will let me. The crunch of the gravel against my shoes fills my ears along with my ragged breathing. I make it to the front entryway and pause just before entering, my heart feeling like it’s going to beat out of my chest.

  The sound of voices draws my attention through the doorway, the handle cold against my sweaty palm.

  Taking a deep breath, I pull the heavy door open as quietly as I can and step through the entrance. Immediately I’m hit by the musty smell of dust and decay. There are rotted wooden crates piled to the ceiling, and rusted metal parts lying all around the front part of the warehouse. Off to the side, I see light coming through the cracks of the crates and can hear the sound of voices getting louder.

  Moving quietly, I round the group of crates and peek into the other side of the room.

  “Mary!” I croak with surprise.

  Standing near two men, a huge bonfire of rotted wood, and dressed in blue jeans, a dark blouse, and her hair pulled into a ponytail, Mary's alive. Standing there as if she belongs there. Mary doesn’t look like a hostage.

  Shaking my head in disbelief, my eyes take in the gathering.

  I’m shocked to see that one of the men is her father, in rough condition, with bright red eyes, bruises on his face, his expression fearful. The other man is dressed in a black trench coat, his grey hair slicked back, his lined face stoic as he stares at me.

  I'm frozen in place, trying to place the second man, but there's nothing coming to me. I don't understand.

  Meanwhile, Mary’s staring at me with shock, her eyes wide.

  “Bee!” she cries when she gets over being stunned, rushing forward with her arms outstretched. “What are you doing here?”

  I don’t move forward to meet her, suddenly wary and my eyes on the men behind her. “I could ask you the same thing,” I barely get the words out.

  Mary's face twists even further. She really does seem genuinely shocked. I just can’t figure out what’s going on. “Huh? What the hell you talking about?”

  “Someone told me…” my words trail off as a horrible realization washes over me and I stare over Mary’s shoulder. The man I don't know is gazing back at me, cold, heartlessness reflected in his eyes. As Mary's father shakes his head, the man draws out his gun and points it at me, causing my heart to skip a beat.

  Right then, everything seems to click. And the image of me telling Mary that I was with Damon and Maddox over the internet flashes in my mind.

  Jesus, how could I have been so fucking stupid? Her father. “What are you doing?” I hear Mary's fearful voice as she turns around, seeing the gun and slowly realizing we're not safe.

  There are no friends in this life, only enemies.

  When he doesn't don’t listen to her, Mary calls out to her father, stepping back with me slowly. “Daddy, please…” her voice trails off as she looks into her father’s eyes. And like me, her face twists in horror as she realizes the awful truth.

  The truth that this whole time I’ve been sending messages over the internet to Mary, her father has been spying on us and feeding information to Tony Condotti. He must owe them. Somehow, someway.

  I already know it's useless for her to plead to her father. He's one of the pawns in this game. Just like she is. Just like I am. I grip her arm and try to pull her away, but the click of the hammer being pulled back and the chamber being loaded stops me mid-step.

  This is the end.

  Chapter 26

  Maddox

  My entire body is so fucking hot. My hand’s sweaty and the gun slips slightly as I take a step forward, but I'm still hiding in the shadows of the vacant parking lot. Well… the Escalade is there, and one other piece of shit Honda that belongs to Mary Cadwell’s father. That fucking piece of shit.

  But other than those two, no one else is here. Yet. It’s only a matter of time until Vittoro knows she’s here. Her phone’s on, and the tracker went off as soon as she left the perimeter of the cabin. My finger's on the trigger as I readjust the gun in my hand. “I’m beating her ass,” I say beneath my breath. On the surface I may come off calm and collected, but inside, I’m frantic with nerves and anxiety.

  I couldn’t believe she left us, but when I ran inside to get the spare keys to the old truck in the garage, I saw her computer screen still lit up. It didn’t take long to figure it out. Cadwell owes a large sum of money to Tony Condotti. I grit my teeth, hating that we didn’t put two and two together faster. It’s our fault. We shouldn’t have trusted Bianca as much as we did. We shouldn’t have given her that freedom. We should’ve said no. If I’d known she was messaging people, I would’ve told her to ask us first. She should have known better.

  Damon takes a step closer to me so we’re shoulder to shoulder, his eyes focused on the door Bianca snuck into. We were so close. So fucking close to getting here in time. I barely saw her as she slipped in while we ran through the sparse trees that separated the two industrial lots.

  I wanted to scream out for her, I wanted to stop her from going in. But we were too late, and they’re already in there. This needs to go down carefully. We can’t alert them to our presence.

  “As soon as we get our hands on her, I’m beating her ass until it’s bright fucking red,” I say again, my jaw tense and the words scratching against my dry throat as they come out. I don’t know how I even managed to get the words to come out so even. My heart’s slamming in my chest, I’m nearly crippled by fear.

  I don’t remember the last time I felt this way. Not when I firs
t went out on the battlefield. Not when I first held a gun or even my first time in training camp.

  I didn’t feel this fucking sick to my stomach the first time some kid stepped up to me and decided it was going to be a showdown.

  Maybe the first time I took my father’s punch for my mother. Maybe then. I don’t think it was this intense though.

  The feeling of potential loss, the feeling of never seeing our honey bee again… it’s too much. I can’t lose her. I finally found someone who makes me feel complete. And I just watched her give herself over to the enemy.

  I’ll kill them all.

  “You beat her ass. Whatever you wanna do,” Damon says almost absently, his eyes laser focused on the building in front of us. “I just want her back.”

  I stare at him, his pale blue eyes reflecting exactly what I’m feeling. “Either way,” he says finally, pulling his eyes away from the target and checking to make sure his guns are loaded, “we’re bringing her back home.”

  I look down at my phone. It’s almost been five minutes already. Every minute is a minute too long.

  Damon must be thinking the same thing.

  “Go in blazing?” he asks me as he stalks forward, toward the same door our honey bee just went through.

  “That’s the plan.” I take a look at him real quick. My best friend. My brother. Some odd feeling comes over me. We’ve been through hell and back. Shared wars and women. But right now there’s something else.

  As his hand reaches for the door handle, I place my hand on his shoulder, shifting the gun to my left.

  “I’m sorry… for earlier.” I tell him. I don’t know why it’s so hard to apologize.

  He looks at me with his forehead pinched. “Don’t be sorry.”

  But I am. All these years, and he’s always been there for me. I was willing to push him away. I’m so fucking sorry. We may walk in there and die. The odds are against us. And the last thing I tried to do was take our girl for myself.

  I’ve never been sorry for a damn thing in my life.

  “Let’s go get our girl,” he says with a cocked smirk.

  I nod at him, shaking away the uneasiness running through me.

  Go in running, go in shooting, go in and save her.

  That’s the only plan.

  I stare at the handle, my legs bent and ready to sprint.

  It doesn’t open as quietly as I hoped and that only makes us each run faster, straight in, no cover. And they’re right fucking there.

  My boots pound against the pavement in time with my heartbeats. Two men on the left, my girl and her friend on the right.

  Damon screams out as he raises his gun, all four of them turning to look at us. She’s alive.

  She needs to stay that way.

  Damon’s gun goes off first, followed by mine. It’s only to get their attention. To distract them and take their focus off Bianca. And it works.

  There’s no cover in here, but a support wall in the center of the large warehouse is perfect for that. It’s almost twenty feet away at least. We can’t run yet. I take cover behind the thick cement wall.

  Damon keeps running through. He doesn’t stop like me. My body heats and my heart races.

  The bastard on the left raises his gun as Damon tries to run behind the wall closer to Bianca, but Damon doesn’t see. My blood runs cold. Look up!

  He’s too focused on saving Bianca. She’s alright. They aren’t going to kill her. I’m the one who’s impatient and a hothead. I’m the one who fucks shit up. But right now we need our heads on right, and Damon’s not there. He’s not okay. He’s not paying attention; he just wants to shield her.

  Bang! The gun goes off and I sprint forward. He’s only a few feet away. I just want to push him, shove him to get cover.

  Bang!

  My body jolts to the left and I feel the cold hard ground before I feel the bullet.

  Bang!

  Another one hits my chest, making my shoulder turn to the left, exposing me for more.

  “Maddox!” Damon screams out, and over the noise I can hear Bianca screaming. I look up as Damon drags my body. He made it. He got cover, but now my dumb ass is putting us both at risk.

  Over his shoulder, Bianca screams out and runs forward. My heart climbs up my throat. She goes right for him. That dumb fuck of a shit father who risked his daughter. She nearly tackles him to the ground, struggling for the gun. Cadwell raises his gun to her. He points the gun right at her. But she’s struggling with Mary’s father. He hesitates to shoot, but he’s going to. I know he is. My gun… fuck! My gun!

  “Damon!” I scream and he looks up just in time. Everything slows down around me.

  Bang! Bang!

  The guns go off at once, some from Damon, some from the man shooting at the three of them struggling against one another, Mary her father and Bianca. I struggle to find my own, my fingers clawing down my side, the feel of blood making my grip slip when I find the cold hard metal.

  Damon points the gun at the bastard shooting at Bianca and rapid fires. He’s always been a damn good shoot. He doesn’t even hesitate. Bianca’s so close, but Damon hits his target. That fucker drops to the ground slowly, his eyes open, death slowly taking the life from him as his knees hit the ground first.

  Mary’s down too, and a stray bullet must have hit her. She’s on the ground with a pool of blood around her.

  Bianca screams as Mary’s father elbows her hard in the chest and takes the gun from her hand. He hovers above her body with a look of pure hate. I don’t hesitate. The Glock kicks back, but I get the fucker right in the chest. Damon does, too.

  Bang! Bang!

  With a final scream ripped from Bianca’s throat, she scrambles to get free.

  She’s safe. My body goes limp.

  “Get her!” I yell at Damon and he doesn’t hesitate.

  Fuck, my chest. I roll to my side and look at the dead men on the ground only feet from me. Was it really worth it? Was any of this worth it to them?

  Damon’s pulling on her and I take a large stride to help him. She’s stubborn as fuck, but it’s one of the many things I love about her. As I move I feel a gush of warmth, and the pain is so much that I can’t ignore it.

  “No!” Bianca calls out and I want to help her, I need to, but my world tilts and I struggle to breathe.

  A loud bang of the metal doors behind me makes me turn quickly, another gush of blood spilling from the bullet holes. Someone’s here. We need to run! I hear the voice in my head, begging me to run, but my feet are frozen to the ground.

  My head feels so heavy. The adrenaline in my blood isn’t doing shit to keep me awake. My head lolls to the side and my balance is off. My palm crashes against the cement floor, scraping and dragging a smear of blood across the cold ground.

  Fuck, it’s so dark. So much blood. For the first time, I look down and dread consumes me. The pain shoots up and down my body, nearly crippling me, but I can ignore that. Pain I’m used to. I’ve found comfort in it all my life. It’s the blood though. My right hand grips my shirt as time slows down. It’s soaked with the dark blood and sticks to my chest.

  I hear Vittoro screaming, and I look up but my vision is blurred and my body’s so heavy, so weak. I fall to the ground with my eyes on him. “Where is she!” I think that’s what he said. Is that what he said? My thought’s not right. My hearing is muted.

  My honey bee.

  My heart beats once, thudding loud in my ears.

  No, he can’t take her. She doesn’t want to go to him.

  My heart thuds again, the beat so much softer, my body going cold.

  Where’s Damon? I try to turn and look for him, only to see him right there looking at me. He’s gotta save her.

  I try to talk, try to tell him the words, but blood spills from my lips. I cough it up as it fills my throat.

  Save her.

  My world goes black and the last vision I have is of her smile. They may have been for him in the beginning, but at least one was for
me. I’m taking one, that’s all I need.

  Chapter 27

  Damon

  All the blood.

  Too much blood.

  And Vittoro won’t shut the fuck up and let me think. I just need to think! I grip my head with the gun still in my hand as I kneel next to Maddox. There’s just too much blood.

  “He needs medical attention.” My voice doesn’t come out strong; I need to pull myself together.

  “Give her to me!” Vittoro shouts an order in my direction, ignoring the shit that still going down around us. The scene isn’t clear. Shots are fired. People are dead around us. Bianca is practically convulsing from the shock. She’s just lost someone she believed was her friend.

  And now Maddox?

  Fuck.

  This isn’t happening.

  “You heard what I said, you lowlife fuck!” Vittoro adds, reaching for Bianca’s arm.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you!” Bianca screams, then she tries to go to Maddox’s side.

  I gesture back with my free arm. “He needs help.”

  Maddox is the only wounded person I care about around here, but I’ll do and say whatever it takes to get Vittoro to focus on the facts.

  “No, you listen to me. Hand over my niece now, or you’re dead, just like your fucking friend over there.” Anger courses through me, and I feel lightheaded. I'm being pulled in so many directions, needing to save both the love of my life and my best friend. Vittoro turns to one of the men he brought. I don’t know his name, but I recognize the guy and he's cradling a fucking .357 Magnum cannon in his hand, trained at me. “If he doesn’t let Bianca go in ten seconds, kill his ass.”

  I push Bianca away from me to try to get her to safety, but she won't move. “Don't hurt her,” I say but my voice is weak. I need help. I can't save him. There's so much blood.