Mafia Sins: The Mafia Romance Collection

by Bella King

“You have to listen to me. If I say to run, you run. If I say to shoot, you shoot. And if I say to leave me behind, then you get your ass out of there and never look back.”

  “I’m not leaving you behind,” I say defiantly.

  “Well, if you listen to me, then you probably won’t have to. I’m just saying, in case the cartel catches up to us.”

  “Don’t say that,” I snap. “I don’t want to think about it.”

  “Yeah,” he says, holding up a finger. “But to be practical-”

  “No,” I say, my voice growing louder.

  “But,” he begins.

  “I said, no,” I say, my voice shutting him down. “I’m not leaving you behind, so shut your stupid mouth and drive.”

  He smiles and breaths through his nostrils in amusement. “You’re a firecracker.”

  “I’m a bitch, you mean. I know that,” I say, crossing my arms.

  “No way,” he says, shaking his head as he makes a right at the fork in the road. “You’re probably the nicest girl I know.”

  “You must not know many,” I say.

  “Let’s not get into that,” he says, a sly grin on his face.

  “Oh, shut up,” I reply, cracking a smile with him.

  “Give me some more of those chips,” Devin says.

  I raise an eyebrow at him. Had he forgotten his manners already?

  “Please,” he says, holding out a hand.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “If I’m going to go all the way to Canada with you,” I say, cracking open the can of cola that Devin bought for me, “Then you’re going to have to give me the full story.”

  Devin squints at me before looking back out the windshield. “Fine. You win. I’ll tell you why I’m doing all this.”

  I didn’t think that would actually work. I take a sip of my drink and lean back in my seat, preparing for the story.

  Devin takes a deep breath. “My grandfather is sick. You know, old people get sick, but he’s really not that old. He’s 71. I figure he could go on another twenty years if he gets his health back, but that’s expensive. His treatment costs a fortune because he has a rare cancer.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, sinking into my seat.

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m not sorry about it. I just want to fix it, and he doesn’t have the money for it. Nobody does,” he says, then pauses. “Except for me now.”

  “Is it really that expensive?” I ask, thinking about just how much money and cocaine he has in his trunk.

  Devin grins. “A million will do just fine, but I’m not going to deny the opportunity to be rich either.”

  “You could just take the cash, though,” I say. “Selling drugs is risky.”

  “I like to live on the edge.”

  “I’d prefer it if you didn’t,” I say, playing with one of my blonde braids.

  “I do what I have to,” he countered.

  “And this isn’t something that you have to do,” I reply. “You’re not getting my point, are you?”

  Devin shakes his head. “My grandfather is the most important thing right now. I have to help him, and I’ll do whatever I have to so that I can.”

  “I doubt your grandfather would want you to end up behind bars. Take the cash, Devin, and ditch the drugs. You don’t need them to be rich,” I say, realizing that what I think doesn’t ultimately matter. It will be up to him what he decides to do. Whether that’s the right thing or not, that’s on him.

  He sighs. “I’d be giving up a lot just to keep you happy.”

  “You don’t have to keep me happy. I can leave,” I say. It’s like I’m fighting against a tide that wants to suck me away from Devin, and I’m getting tired from it. I can’t fight like this much longer just to keep a man who is ultimately trouble.

  Devin laughs. “You’re not free to go until we reach the border,” he says before pausing. “You know, I didn’t expect you to be such an interesting woman, but I really feel like I’ve connected with you, and it would be a shame to have to walk away from this.”

  “Get rid of the drugs,” I say, staring at him intently.

  “Done.”

  “That was too easy,” I say, squinting at him. “What’s the catch?”

  He smiles, his blue eye twinkling. “The catch is that you never tell anyone where the money came from. We buy a log cabin, and we send you to flight school. Happily ever after, and that kind of thing.”

  “Really?” I ask, thinking that it sounds too good to be true.

  “Yes, I like you, and I think we can have a nice time together up there in the Canadian wilderness. That is, unless you’re scared of bears.”

  “I’m not scared of anything.”

  “Except for the cartel.”

  My braids whip my shoulders as I shake my head at him. “I’m not the one running from them.”

  “Fair enough, but you didn’t want to be involved with me at first because of them,” he says.

  “That wasn’t why,” I reply. “You literally kidnapped me. I think that’s a pretty good reason not to like you.”

  “But you like me now,” he says, tilting his head back against the seat and grinning.

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” I shake my head, but I can’t hide a smile.

  “So, I have to dump the drugs, huh?” he says, leaning forward and looking up at the sky. “I better do it soon, because I think it’s about to rain.”

  “We can do it together,” I say.

  “Don’t trust me?”

  “Not really,” I say with a chuckle. I sip on my cola and grab the bag of chips from my feet. My appetite is back.

  Devin frowns. “It looks bad. I think there’s going to be a storm. We haven’t had rain in a while.”

  “Do we have to stop and wait it out?” I ask, rolling down the window so that I can get a better look. The coolness of the air hits my face, and I can smell the moisture in the air. I can practically taste the electricity on my tongue as I breathe in the dense air.

  “I want to keep driving, but we should find a place to dump the drugs if we’re going to commit to going to Canada together,” Devin says, his hands gripping the wheel tightly.

  I see that he’s nervous about the sudden change of plans, but he’ll be better off not hauling around a life-sentence’s worth of cocaine in the trunk of a bright red Mustang. It’ll be better for him even if he doesn’t agree with me yet.

  “The rain will wash it all away,” I say, rolling up the window but keeping it down just a crack so that I can smell the air. There’s something exciting about the way that it smells before the rain, and it makes me feel cozy in the car with Devin. The white leather is warm against my back, and my cola is bubbly sweet in my hand, condensation on the tin sides.

  I feel the tiny dents in the can as Devin nods his head to my statement. He’s struggling with the thought of giving all that potential money up, but all I see there is a potential prison sentence or an overdose, and I’m not a big fan of either.

  “I told myself that I would never bend to what I woman wants,” Devin says. He pauses. “But you make a decent enough point, so I could say that it’s what I want too.”

  “It’s a compromise,” I suggest.

  He shakes his head. “No, you’re right. It’s what I should do. I’m not compromising by getting my shit together. It was greedy to want more when I already have so much.”

  I narrow my eyes at him, taking a sip of my cola. “You’re being too reasonable.”

  Devin laughs. “Enjoy it while it lasts, darling.”

  I smile with my mouth still on the can and take another sip of my drink. I’m thoroughly impressed with how much progress he has made since we met, but that’s not to say there isn’t still room for improvement. I’d like to spend some time on the way to the border, talking about what we’re going to do when we get there. The promise of flight school is especially thrilling to me, but I don’t want to get my hopes up. I learned not to from a young age.

  “We’re near a
ravine,” Devin says, looking out the side window. “I’m going to pull over and dump this stuff down there. Nobody will find it before it gets washed away.”

  “I’m coming with you,” I say, gripping my soda can tightly.

  He grins at me. “I wouldn’t trust you in the car, anyway.”

  “It seems that we both have some trust issues,” I reply.

  “Indeed.”

  The car slows to a crawl, pulling over on the side of the road, the thin tires crunching gravel beneath them. We’re at the edge of the ravine, and there is a railing preventing us from pulling off the road any further. Outside of the railing are a tight cluster of trees accompanied by a steep drop.

  Devin keeps the keys in the car as he pops the trunk and hops out of the car. That’s a little trust right there, and I wonder if he’s done it on purpose to test me one last time before we officially join forces. I glance at the keys dangling in the ignition. I don’t even want to touch them. I have something far better than escape. I have Devin.

  I step out of the car and shut the door, walking to the trunk, where Devin has already pulled out the crate full of drugs. A sprinkle of white powder is flowing from the punctured bag, a product of me being locked in the trunk before.

  “There’s a leak,” Devin says, looking at the powder in his trunk.

  “More like a line,” I say with a goofy grin, nudging him with my elbow.

  “Oh, feel free to take it. You’ll need to energy,” he says.

  “For what?”

  Devin winks, and turns toward the trees, stepping a long leg over the guardrail and entering the edge of the ravine.

  “Careful,” I call out to him, springing over the railing and nearly falling flat on my face in the process.

  “I’m always careful,” he says, looking over the edge of the ravine, the large crate clutched steadily in his large hands. His biceps are flexed, and the lines in his forearms are drastic as he holds the crate. His veins are triple the size of mine, and I’m instantly turned on by the sight of him in action.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Devin mutters before letting the crate slip from his hands. It falls down a few feet, tumbling across the grass as the wood splinters and falls apart. Bags of cocaine are flung into the air and come open in bursts of white powder.

  I stand beside Devin, watching millions of dollars dissolve back into nature. It’s all gone.

  “Well,” he says, still staring at the bags as they tumble down into the bottom of the ravine. “I think we better get going.”

  “Yeah,” I say, but neither of us moves until the first drop of rain falls.

  It’s followed by another, and then several more, and soon, the torrential downpour has begun. By that time, we’re already back in the car and on our way to the border.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “The cartel can’t cross the Canadian border,” Devin says, his foot jammed down hard on the gas pedal.

  We flew through two states, and now we’re on the final run, through North Dakota with the cartel on our tail again. I don’t know how they managed to find us, but the three trucks that I spotted at the gas station a few states back as behind us, racing after us down a populated highway.

  “I’m more afraid of the cops than anything,” Devin says. “I can’t go on some crazy shootout in this kind of traffic.”

  “Plus, you might hit a civilian,” I say, looking out the narrow back window of the car.

  “Fuck them,” Devin says with a chuckle. “Have you ever been to North Dakota?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “Is it that bad?”

  “Not really,” he says. “But I have an ex-girlfriend that lives here.”

  “Okay, let’s get to shooting then,” I joke, gaining a laugh from Devin.

  He swerves the car around a large hauling van and nearly knocks the rearview mirror off. “Fuck, this isn’t good,” he says, looking at the traffic ahead.

  “How far are we from the border?” I ask.

  “Far enough to get caught. We have to make it through this traffic, and it’s a straight shot to the border. When we get there,” he says, giving me a serious look. “I want you to act very normal, like we’re just too lovers taking an impromptu trip to Canada. Do you got it?”

  “We are lovers,” I say with a smile. “I can be cute.” I twirl my braid around in my finger.

  “You already are. Just be calm, okay?”

  “I’m so calm,” I say, keeping an edge of humor to my voice. It helps in light of who is chasing us.

  “Fucking cartel. Don’t they have anything better to do?” Devin growls, tearing through traffic as he glances up to the rearview mirror every few seconds.

  “Maybe we should have left the drugs for them,” I say.

  “Yeah,” Devin says, but I can tell he’s not listening. His blue eyes are alive with energy, focused so intensely on the traffic in front of us. If we’re going to live through this, we need to break out of this traffic without catching the attention of any cops.

  “Police,” I shriek, jabbing a finger toward the car in the two o’clock position.

  Devin pumps the break and changes lanes. “I’m just a friendly commuter, on my way to work.”

  I giggle. “I don’t even have a job anymore.”

  “You’re going to be a pilot,” Devin says.

  “Damn right, I am. It’s either than or minced meat,” I say, looking in the side mirror.

  The cartel’s trucks are falling behind because they’re large and unable to weave through traffic the same way that Devin can in his small Mustang. We’re not out of this yet, but as long as we don’t run into heavier traffic, we’ll make it to the border before the cartel does.

  “Do I need a passport?” I ask, the thought only occurring now when we were a few miles from the border.

  Devin shrugs. “I don’t go through the border checkpoint. There are plenty of places you can get through without one, but they have a check at this end of the road that’s not an official passport check. They’ll just ask me where I’m heading and then point me to the passport border check. Of course,” he says, leaning over to me. “We’re going to skip that.”

  “What about my passport in Canada? I can’t stay there, can I?”

  “You’d be surprised what a hundred grand can get you,” he says. “I’m a citizen of Mexico, the USA, and Canada. At least, that’s what my passports say.”

  “That works?” I ask, amazed that it would be that easy.

  “Yes,” he says. “Most people who are trying to get across the border don’t have that kind of money, so it’s not a regular thing they look out for.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” I reply.

  “Governments aren’t nearly as scary as people think. They usually go after the big issues, and guys like me slip through the cracks,” he explains, pride in his deep voice.

  “So, the cartel is worse than the government,” I say.

  “That’s true, but to them, I’m a big issue,” he says. “And these motherfuckers are still on our tail. Man, I can’t shake them.”

  “Go faster,” I urge, gripping the seat and watching the trucks weave through traffic behind us.

  “I can’t without getting pulled over. I already look suspicious driving this recklessly,” he says, eyes trained on the traffic ahead.

  “Well, it’s worth the risk,” I say, seeing how close the cartel trucks are getting.

  “Is that another cop?” Devin blurts.

  I snap my head around to see a police car in front of us. “Shit. Where were they when I was getting kidnapped?”

  Devin chuckles. “Taking a donut break or something. We’re going to have to play this cool.” He changes lanes again and rolls right past the police car.

  Meanwhile, I’m hunkered down in my seat, praying that they don’t have the sudden urge to pull us over. Technically, we aren’t breaking any traffic laws, but you never know. It’s Murphy’s law. Whatever can go wrong will go wrong in an
y given situation.

  My heart sinks as I see blue lights flashing against Devin’s worried face. I look back to see the trucks directly behind us, but the cop isn’t behind us. They’re pulling behind the trucks.

  “Motherfucker,” Devin says, a triumphant grin stretching across his face.

  “Are they pulling the cartel over?” I ask, excitement spilling from my voice.

  “Looks to be so,” Devin says, his smile growing even wider as he speaks. “We’re actually going to make it.”

  “Yes,” I hiss, pumping my fist. “Fuck the cartel.”

  Devin laughs. “Just hold tight, and we’re going to get to the border just fine.”

  I look back to see the trucks pulling off the road with the police behind them. They were driving a lot more recklessly than we were in an attempt to catch up, and that was their mistake. They’re not going to catch us now.

  “Remember,” Devin says, pulling around a car into a clearing in the road. “Stay cool when we pass the first booth. I have to pay a toll there, and then we’re going to head to one of the national parks. We’ll have to park the car and go on foot because my US license is going to raise flags, but I’ll come back to get it later.”

  “Are we taking the money too?” I ask.

  “Yes, most of it. The rest I’m going to keep in the trunk and hope someone doesn’t decide to rob me while I’m gone.”

  “And we can just walk through to Canada?” I ask.

  He nods. “The park is shared, but you’re expected not to go through without the proper papers. They can stop you, but they won’t if you’re on foot. We’ll get you a passport as soon as we can once we’re there.”

  “You have this all figured out,” I say.

  “Well, as much as you like to say that I’m stupid, that’s simply not true,” he replies, taking his head with a tattooed finger.

  I pout. “Sorry that I said that. I know it’s not true.”

  “Nah,” he assures me. “I’ve done some dumb shit in my life, but I’m going to turn it around. We’re going to have a good time in Canada, and I’m going to make sure everything is good for us. We’ll be staying at my grandfather’s place while I set up his doctor’s appointments.”