Hero: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

by Lara Swann

  “Sure, because being in the middle of one gang isn’t bad enough. You want me to get involved with both of you?!”

  I blinked, a little taken aback by her directness, before feeling an odd relief - I had always preferred speaking plainly.

  With effort, I struggled to sit up, supporting myself against the wall at my back as I met her incredulous gaze.

  “Valentini isn’t like Jorge. I doubt you’re ever going to approve of us, but at least we keep things civilized. Plus, he has every interest in the city growing - improving.”

  Her dubious expression told me it wasn’t working, and I changed tactic before she could withdraw completely.

  “Be realistic here - what are you going to achieve by yourself? If you work with us, we have the chance to get rid of these mindless gangs for good. A little information could make the difference between a quiet takeover and a year-long street war - and we both know what that would do to this place. More importantly, you’d have protection if anything went wrong. I don’t have a clue who you are, Lottie, but you seem brave and brazen as fuck. That still doesn’t mean you can take on the world. Not alone.”

  She just stared at me, and I had no idea what she was thinking.

  “You spent the last half hour telling me I should have nothing to do with you - to be careful of Jorge and his guys. If I jump on board with you now, I’ll be throwing careful out of the window. Jason.”

  Something strange ran through me at knowing she’d remembered my name, but I ignored it. Just as I ignored how fucking right she was.

  “Yes. But then you weren’t going to take that advice anyway, were you?”

  Why the fuck was I pursuing this? I would have murdered Jorge for hurting her, and now she’d fixed up my arm, given me a glimpse of fire and spirit that had me reeling…and I was doing worse.

  But I knew why.

  Xero.

  “Don’t answer me now, just think about it. If you’re interested, I’ll be at the Metropolitan hotel Downtown tomorrow.”

  I had to get out of here - debating it would just turn her against the idea. And more than that, this whole thing was unnerving me in a way I didn’t like. It felt wrong to just leave after she’d put so much effort into helping me, but I couldn’t stay here any longer.

  The pain of my body was barely noticeable against the chaos in my mind and I got to my feet more smoothly than I should have been able to. From the way her face twisted in immediate displeasure, I think she would have tried to help me - or stop me - if I hadn’t just shocked her down to her very core.

  But she stayed there silently, as I walked past without another word and headed for the exit I’d ducked into hours earlier.

  As I left, I cursed myself for the fucking, no-good bastard that I was - but I didn’t take back the offer.

  Chapter Five

  Lottie

  I stayed longer than I should have after he left, staring at the open doorway while those words circled in my head, like birds of prey pecking at my spinning mind.

  Be realistic here - what are you going to achieve by yourself?

  It was unlikely that Jorge or Alfonso would send anyone to come and check out this place out, but that didn’t mean I should stick around. It had been a stroke of luck that the battered guys who’d shown up to Jorge’s makeshift HQ had let enough slip for me to work out where they’d been - and of course, when it was on my way home anyway…

  I couldn’t tell whether it had been my ever-present desire to help those in need, or the thought of how pissed Jorge would be if he knew, that had made me slip into that abandoned building. I hoped it was the former.

  And then when I’d realized just who the Italian scum they’d set upon was - not that he was actually Italian, but it didn’t surprise me that they hadn’t distinguished - everything had shifted. The guy who’d caught my eye at that stupid negotiation. Jason, he’d said his name was.

  I’d watched from the edge as he sat intently in the center of it all - seeing everything and everyone, giving the impression he was in control of the whole thing. It wasn’t like I knew anything about it - and mob deals were the last thing I wanted to be involved in - but despite the sleazy nature of that meeting, he’d seemed professional. Which was certainly not a word I would have applied to this business. It didn’t fit Jorge. Or Alfonso. Or anyone I knew, for that matter.

  He’d been playing everyone, and he’d done it well enough that they thought they’d won - I was pretty certain of that.

  And it wasn’t even that consummate skill that had held my attention - just because he was good at it, didn’t change my disdain for the mob he represented. No, it had been the feeling that he didn’t fit - that there was something far more complex underneath that smooth appearance. Something disturbingly familiar.

  I gathered my kit back together in irritation and slipped out of the building as my thoughts twisted together, that day crashing into what I’d seen of him tonight.

  He’d surprised me. Unnerved me. Just by being there - with those masked green eyes and a closed expression that slipped, only momentarily, when he was caught off guard. It made me want to catch him that way.

  To unravel him and see what he kept hidden from the world.

  Which had made me a damn idiot.

  I’d always had trouble keeping my mouth shut, but I knew well enough to keep certain things to myself. At least, I’d thought I did - as it turns out, a few pointed questions from an intriguing guy and I’ll reveal all.

  I took a deep breath as I neared my parents house, seeing the familiar lights left on for me despite the late hour. I wished they wouldn’t do that - we didn’t need whatever it added to the bills. But I also knew that they had so few ways to look out for me that I couldn’t bring myself to mention it.

  And secretly, I let it warm my heart. After the nights I spent with Jorge’s gang, it was my little reminder that I was home. I was safe.

  When I finally got in, I slipped off my worn and stained-yet-again clothes and headed straight for the shower.

  I only ever gave myself a few minutes, but it was amazing what the cleansing warmth did for my body and soul - especially after a night like this.

  That was what it took to detach myself enough to think properly, and I sighed as I slipped on my nightgown, then flopped onto my small single-sized bed and replayed my reckless stupidity.

  He was a mobster. The dangerous right-hand-man of a notorious crime family.

  Everything I stood against.

  And I hadn’t thought twice about telling him my name, where I lived, and…

  My eyes flicked to the corner of my bed, my heart thumping faster in the same way it always did while my hand inched down, moving without conscious thought to the small gap between mattress and wall, sneaking underneath and then between the loose wooden planks of the bed.

  The moment my fingers brushed the small book, relief rushed through me and I started breathing again.

  It was there.

  It always was, of course. It had been since that first day I’d hidden it away.

  But still…the idea of any other possibility was terrifying enough that simply reaching for it had anxiety creeping within me.

  I started flipping through the pages, watching the faces of all those I’d helped look back at me - Jorge’s crew, mostly, with all the scribbled information I’d been able to remember. Dates, times, places, injuries, second-hand descriptions of reasons and activities when I could get them.

  I knew I was no artist, but I’d always liked drawing - and I could capture faces well enough.

  My fingers stilled as the pages landed on last week’s entry.

  His face looking back at me, strong features cast in sharp relief against my vague outline of the warehouse.

  Name, description, details of their deal all scribbled on the opposite page.

  A much more generic outline of the guy he’d been with - Italian, name unknown - underneath. I hadn’t been paying enough attention.

  I hadn�
�t bothered with Jorge’s guys that time, except to list them by name - I already had drawings of all of them.

  Distracted, I flicked to the next free page, grabbing my pencil from the nightstand and starting to sketch - something that had always helped me think.

  That was how it had started, just idle drawings, until I’d realized what it meant. What it could mean.

  My secret.

  I hadn’t dared tell anyone - not even my parents, who knew something was going on.

  It was too dangerous.

  And with a few questions, a couple of ill-advised impassioned answers, suddenly someone knew. Maybe not the details - the book - but my betrayal. I’d made that obvious.

  A fucking mafioso, for goodness sake.

  I had no idea whether this book - all my time and effort over the last few months - could even be any use. Sometimes it seemed stupid to risk my life for something I had no plan for - something that might not mean anything.

  But then I told myself that even if it was never used in court, maybe it could link things together, provide some clue…

  What are you going to achieve?

  His words haunted me because truthfully, I had no idea. Every time I thought of the corrupt, weakened police force that seemed my only option, I wanted to despair.

  Still, I refused to believe that it was pointless or that there was nothing I could do…it was just that the answer hadn’t come to me yet.

  It would. And when it did, I’d be prepared.

  I had to believe that, for the same reason that I faithfully updated the book. It had become more than just a solution for the gangs ruling my city - it was a symbol of my defiance. If I gave up on it now, I’d be giving into Jorge and every no-good guy that had ever tried to make me afraid. I’d be letting them win.

  The stupid book had become the thing that kept me alive - every time I felt scared to death, hurt and alone with my faith in the world slipping - it was the foolish beacon of light that stopped me from showing how close I was to breaking. My proof that I could deal with all of the ugliness and not let it touch me.

  My secret betrayal.

  Not so secret anymore…how the hell had I been so stupid?!

  The nib of my pencil broke against the page as I pressed down too hard, smudging the shading I’d been working on and bringing me up short as I glanced down.

  My breath caught as I finally noticed what I’d been outlining - the picture in my mind’s eye from earlier that night. Jason’s tough body laid out before me, shirt off this time as I’d automatically marked the distinguishing features my examination had revealed.

  Or at least, that’s what I thought I’d been doing.

  The elegant tribal tattoos spanning his upper chest, those were useful to note, even if they perhaps didn’t need the embellishment I’d given them. The shallow cut along his side, that was standard to record. The hard definition of his pecs and abs, with the sprinkling of hair that curled down to the tempting shadow his jeans made…maybe they weren’t necessary.

  The strong features of his face, high cheekbones giving a graceful look even though his brow was weathered and lined. The swirling depth of his eyes, dark and forbidding except for those brief moments they opened and turned intent…haunted.

  I was fantasizing now - maybe others could capture such things with a simple pencil, but not me. On paper his eyes looked gray and unremarkable. I’d given them a few flecks of substance, and perhaps they were some of the better ones I’d drawn, but there were no hidden meanings there.

  That came purely from my mind. My memory overlapping with the paper before me.

  Why was I so obsessed with those eyes?

  But it wasn’t just that. I suddenly felt the memory of his fingers on me - his firm grip around my wrist as he’d caught my hand, and then the gentle strength he’d shown while holding my chin.

  A shiver went down my spine at the echo of that touch. The strength in his grip had been obvious, but that firm touch had felt almost…careful. All that fierce male danger focused not on me, but restrained and protective.

  No one had ever touched me that way before - strength that could have been terrifying instead making me feel safe.

  And suddenly, I understood why he’d slipped under the guard I’d never let any of Jorge’s crew through.

  He didn’t feel like a mobster.

  He hadn’t looked at me the same way they did, and when he spoke - in that irritable, gruff way - it had been protective, warning me away.

  Despite his connections with the mafia, I trusted him. As crazy as it was, he’d struck me as a good person - that was why those eyes kept flashing in my mind.

  I’d always trusted my instincts about people, something that made me act without thought around so many of these guys…Jorge, Alfonso…now Jason. Only with Jason, instead of being calculating and careful, it had led to revealing too much and then his terrifying offer.

  I sighed as my fingers traced that impressively muscled chest, for the first time wondering whether my female instincts might be interfering with those keeping me alive.

  Gunshots outside startled me, and I shoved the book back where it belonged as my heart sped up. It was a stupid reaction, but the whole evening had set me on edge, making me overly protective.

  The footsteps on the hallway and then a light knock on my door made me glad about it anyway.

  I rose from the bed and opened it to Leah’s scared face looking up at me.

  She seemed to be teetering on the edge of saying something, but I didn’t make her explain as I opened my arms wide and let her collapse, sobbing lightly.

  I closed the door behind her and we stood like that for a few moments, my hand stroking her hair as I murmured soothing words.

  “It’s okay, Leah…you’re safe. It’s all okay.”

  “I…I’m sorry—”

  “Shh, don’t be. Don’t be sorry. Here, come…”

  It took a few minutes to guide her to the bed where we could sit together. Her face was shiny with tears and fear as she leaned against me, but what caught at my heart was the shame there.

  I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight, guiding her back to reality as she slowly escaped from the nightmare.

  “I—the…the noise, it startled me, that’s all.”

  “I know. It’s okay, honey. It’s not nearby, and we’re safe. I promise.”

  The words seemed to ease her a little, even as they made my stomach clench.

  We will be safe. I hope. That’s all I can promise.

  I hated lying to her, even if what I said was probably true. It still wasn’t a promise I could make, and every time I did, I wondered whether one day she’d question all those reassurances from her trusted big sister.

  Or maybe she’d already decided to ignore that possibility. Leah was crazy smart, so it was a little foolish to think she’d never considered whether I was just trying to comfort her. Maybe she’d simply decided to believe and trust…because the alternative only held nightmares and fear. I could certainly understand that feeling.

  Stop it.

  I knew better than to think that way with her around. Open and vulnerable like this, she was far too sensitive to my mood - and especially to any possible contradictions to the reassurance she needed.

  I rubbed her back and she slowly calmed down, tucking herself closer to me and giving a deep sigh that I felt more than heard.

  “I’m sorry, Lots, really I am. I just…I’m terrified to sleep…and, and I have that project due next week…and—”

  I kissed her temple and brushed back a stray hair as I looked at her with concern.

  “Would you like to sleep here tonight, Lee?”

  She glanced at my bed and bit her lip, but I could see the relief relaxing some of her tight muscles as she looked up at me.

  “Do you mind? I really don’t want to—”

  “Of course I don’t mind, honey. C’mon, I’ve missed you.”

  I guided her to lie down and crawled in beh
ind her, pulling the covers up over us as I tucked my arms around her and held her close. The single bed cramped us together like this, but we’d always loved sharing that closeness and body warmth. I felt the last of the tension release from her and closed my eyes, my own indecision earlier distracted by this more pressing concern.

  “I hate this, Lots, how scared I get - I wish I could be like you. You’re so brave—everything you’re doing, and y-you’re not afraid—not of anything.”

  I laughed, unable to help myself as I squeezed her tight.

  “I’m scared all the time, Leah.”

  She half-turned in my arms, startled.

  “What?”

  “It’s okay, it’s…normal, I think. Everyone gets scared. Sometimes really scared - you just find something to get you through it, try not to let it rule your life.”

  Her arms clutched mine around her stomach and she shifted even closer to me.

  “You’re what gets me through it, Lots.”

  Her gentle sigh sounded content, and I could almost feel her start to drift, wrapped up in the feeling of safety she needed.

  Unbidden, the thought echoed in my mind.

  What about you, Lottie? What - or who - gets you through it?

  So far, it had been my determination not to let them win, and I hadn’t given it more thought than that. Leah, too, was part of what kept me fighting.

  But who makes you feel safe again?

  I’d kept everything secret, trying to protect my family from the danger, trying to keep my fear and doubt to myself so they didn’t worry. I was suddenly hit by how hard it was to deal with it all alone, and the longing for what Leah had right now swept through me - secure arms wrapped around me, a reassuring voice in my ear. Simply knowing someone was there, looking out for me.

  Almost simultaneously, Jason’s voice echoed in my mind.

  What are you going to achieve by yourself?

  And I remembered how it had felt when he’d looked at me - touched me.

  The last thing I wanted was to get involved with another mob group. It was stupid. Crazy stupid.