Trouble: (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) (Made & Broken Book 3) Page 24

  I knew going on my own was a terrible idea. Whoever Dad had sent to order our hit, it would have been infinitely better if we’d been two to take him down. But that would have left Audrey alone, without any way of getting help if our dad’s men recognized her.

  As I crouched on the rooftop of the warehouse across from where I knew the London contact for the смертьs had his domain, I felt just a sliver of anger at Marcus and Blaine. They’d both left town, leaving Louis and I as the only hands we had in the city right now, because they wanted to protect their birds. Meanwhile Audrey, who’d hardly known what the underworld was up until a few weeks ago, was neck deep in it, and except for maybe tying her up and hiding her away in one of Blaine’s safe houses, there was nothing we could do to change it. Of course, they didn’t know we had a woman involved.

  So fucking stupid.

  If I’d been any kind of smart, I’d have kept on jogging when I saw her flailing around in the park that morning. She’d been safe.

  Flashes of yesterday played for my mind’s eye. Of her moans and whispered words of affection as she writhed between us. The time she’d held me while I cried after having killed a man. Holding her hand as we went to see her parents together, like a normal fucking couple. Guilt gnawed at my stomach as I stared at the alleyway below, because I knew I didn’t want her to be safe. I wanted her to be with me more than I wanted to know she’d never get hurt by my dark world.

  Selfish fuck.

  I growled at my idiotic angsting and pushed it away. It didn’t matter what I wanted, because right now I didn’t have a choice about it anyway. And if I didn’t focus, we’d all lose our heads.

  I waited for more than an hour on that rooftop. When a car finally pulled up, it’d started to rain and I was soaked through. At the sight of the driver, however, my adrenaline picked up, and I forgot about my discomfort.

  I’d have known that face anywhere. Wesley was a large black man in his forties, and he’d been with our Family since his late teens. Or with our father, more precisely. He’d been unquestionably loyal to our father from the day Dad killed his abusive stepdad. According to Marcus, he was also the man who’d been sent to kill Jeremy. Of course he’d be the one to order a hit on us, too.

  I quickly slipped across the rooftop and down the side, climbing down the wall where Wesley wouldn’t be able to spot me. When I crept around the corner, gun drawn, he’d finally made it out of the car and was holding a brown leather briefcase in one hand. Undoubtedly the blood money our father was willing to spend to get rid of us.

  He didn’t notice my presence until I pressed the gun against the back of his skull and growled, “Hello, Wesley.”

  Wesley stiffened, his muscles bunching underneath his black wool coat as he slowly raised his arms. “Louis,” he greeted. “Or is it Liam? I never could tell.”

  No surprise there; our own father had never been able to tell the difference.

  “Doesn’t really matter, does it?” I tapped him with the gun. “Give me your keys.”

  He obeyed, and I quickly unlocked the boot and motioned for him to get in.

  “I won’t fit,” he protested. “That boot wasn’t made for anyone over 5’10’’.”

  “You and I’ve both seen bigger men than you fit into this exact car. Get in, or I’m putting a bullet through your skull. Your fucking choice.” I moved closer to make sure he complied, but that was exactly what Wesley had been waiting for.

  The second I was within range, he threw his elbow back into my ribs hard enough to wind me.

  I keeled over with a groan, but managed to twist away before his fist impacted with my face. When he went for my knees I was ready, and I kicked him hard across the thigh, making him stumble forward and right into the line of my fist. It connected with his chin, but as he spun around, he aimed a kick right at my stomach.

  I flew backward, dropping the gun like a fucking untrained kid as pain exploded through my body. He was on me instantly, grabbing for the weapon while trying to hold me back.

  I kicked, hitting him the gut, but not with enough power to get him off. He swung again, and I managed to block his punch, but I wasn’t fast enough to recover, and his fingers closed around the handle of the gun.

  “You can fucking forget about it!” I punched him in the elbow just as he pulled back to aim, which is the only thing that saved me from getting shot in the chest. The gun went off, quieted by the silencer I’d attached to its barrel, and pain lanced through my right bicep.

  “Fuck!” I gritted my teeth to work through the pain, using the spike of adrenaline to land a blow to the side of Wesley’s face hard enough to send him to the ground and off my body. He didn’t recover before I’d wrestled the gun out of his hand and pulled back to aim it at his head.

  “Move, I fucking dare you,” I growled.

  Wesley froze, eyes trained on the gun. For five long seconds, all that could be heard in the alleyway was our ragged breathing and the falling rain splattering against the ground and the tin roofs above us. When I was sure he wasn’t going to fight again, I got to my feet, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out at the pain in my arm.

  Putting enough distance between us that he wouldn’t be able to surprise me again, I turned to the car and quickly fired two bullets into the boot, creating a couple of air holes and decreasing the resale value by tens of thousands. I smirked, knowing how pissed my dad got when the “company cars” got damaged.

  “Get in the fucking boot, or suck on a bullet. Last chance,” I snarled at my father’s right hand man.

  This time, he complied without a word.

  I was late pulling up at the safe house where I’d arranged to meet up with Louis and Audrey, a fact that was very much cemented when Audrey stormed into the garage the second after I’d pulled in and threw herself around my neck before I’d gotten fully out of the car.

  “I was so scared you’d been hurt!” she said, her voice raw with emotion. “You’re so late. What happened?”

  “Complicatio—ow! Fuck, Audrey, be careful.” I flinched away when she inadvertently grasped onto my arm where I’d been shot.

  Her brown eyes widened in alarm—and when she spotted the blood seeping through my coat, her face turned pale as a sheet and she released me as if she’d burned herself. “Oh my God, what happened? Do you need a doctor? Oh God, Liam, what can I do?”

  “Shh, calm down, love it’s just a flesh wound.” I nodded at Louis, who stepped out into the garage and awkwardly put my uninjured arm around Audrey’s shoulders. “Got a present in the boot. Be careful, it’s a lively one.”

  Louis arched an eyebrow in question and accepted the keys from me. “Please tell me it’s not a Russian.”

  I snorted. “Didn’t get hit in the head so no—I haven’t kidnapped a fucking assassin.” I grimaced as pain throbbed from my wound, reminding me I probably needed to have a look at it sometime soon. “You good?”

  “Yeah, go sit down. I’ll be in to stitch you up in a moment.” He grabbed my gun from the car and walked around the back. “Audrey, get him inside, will you? And don’t let him try to bullshit about just needing a Band-Aid. There’s enough blood here that he’s gonna need stitches.”

  I glared at my twin when Audrey turned, if possible, even paler. “Don’t stress, love, I’ll be fine,” I said, forcing a smile.

  “Stop trying to play brave!” She grabbed me—with surprising strength, I might add—around the waist and guided me away from the car and to the door that led into the safe house, letting me support my weight against her body. It was a relief not to have to carry my full weight myself, and I frowned against her soft hair as she led me inside. The adrenaline was starting to leave my body, and it was getting harder to ignore the pain spreading from my right arm. Maybe that bullet wound was a bit nastier than I’d assumed, after all.

  The house was a tiny one-room shack and not very well-lit, leaving shadows to play over the peeling wallpaper from the single, naked bulb hanging from the
living room ceiling. At the far end was a sink and a stove, as well as an ancient-looking fridge, and in the corner next to the door that led to the stairs was a rickety-looking old sofa with mildewy cushions and an equally awful-looking armchair.

  Audrey led me to the sofa, helped me sit down, and immediately began to fuss with my coat to get a look at the wound.

  “It’s fine, love, I promise,” I repeated, doing my best to calm her down. She’d obviously not had a lot of experience with the kinds of injuries that came with being in the mafia, and she looked like all the blood was about to make her hurl. “Really, just sit down. Louis will have me fixed right up in a moment.”

  She ignored my protests and eventually managed to get the coat off. The small gasp that escaped her made me look down at the wound and grimace. It’d been bleeding more than I’d thought, and there was a deep groove in the torn muscle. No wonder it hurt like a bitch.

  “Louis!” Audrey screamed at the still-open door to the garage before she grabbed her own top and ripped a large chunk of fabric out of it. She pressed it firmly against my wound with both hands, ignoring my flinching, and shouted for my twin again.

  “Louis!”

  My brother came in the door before she managed to call a third time, herding Wesley in front of him with the gun pointed firmly at his back. He’d tied his hands behind him with duct tape and gagged him as well—both things I hadn’t had the time for when leaving the смертьs’.

  “Is it bad?” Louis asked her. He nudged Wesley forward so he could lean over to look. Audrey took the pressure off my arm for a moment to show him, her eyes big and fearful as she looked at my twin for guidance.

  “Well, shit,” Louis grumbled. “That’s gonna leave a scar. Just keep the pressure on, love. And if he faints, slap him. I’ll be down in a second, just tying this prick up upstairs.”

  “Will he be okay?” she whispered, and I realized she thought I was dying. My heart gave a sappy spasm of joy at the despair in her voice. If I hadn’t been in so much pain, I might have felt bad about enjoying her fear.

  “Yeah, don’t worry. He’s tough as old leather.” Louis gave her a wink, probably to try and make her feel better, and then led Wesley out the door and up the stairs.

  We could hear them walking around upstairs, the scraping of a chair and something—or someone—heavy being pushed into it and the murmur of Louis’ voice.

  “Don’t die on me.”

  I blinked at the sound of Audrey’s voice and turned my head to look at her. Tears rimmed her beautiful brown eyes, catching on her lashes as she stared at me with undeniable fear—and so much love, it made my heart pound heavily behind my ribs.

  “I couldn’t bear it if you died. I love you so much. Don’t die.”

  “Audrey,” I whispered. Awkwardly, I moved my uninjured arm to put my hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. I wanted to hug her against my chest, but I couldn’t move enough to do so. “I’m not dying. I promise, love. I’ll never leave you. No one’s ever getting between us—no one and nothing. You’re the only thing that matters, love.”

  The tears in her eyes overflowed at my words, and then her lips were against mine, kissing me with a desperation I’d felt ever since I’d been forced to break up with her.

  “I love you, Liam,” she whispered in between salty kisses. “I love you. I love you.”

  It was only when I pulled back to breathe some moments later that I noticed Louis watching us from the doorway, a look of dark regret clear on his so familiar features.

  When he saw me looking, he forced a smile and walked over to where they’d left our camping bags. “Ready to get stitched up, brother? Isaac left us with a lot to discuss.”

  36

  Audrey

  I still felt queasy from watching Louis stitch his twin up with the needle and thread they’d brought in the First Aid kit, but once the bleeding had stopped and Liam no longer looked like he was about to pass out, I did feel a lot better.

  After dinner, he also no longer looked close to death like he had when he’d gotten out of the car. I’d been so terrified that he’d actually die on me.

  I lifted the hand he still had wrapped around mine from while he was being sewn up and kissed his knuckles, grateful that we were all safe, at least for a little while longer.

  The love in his eyes at my small gesture of affection made me smile, despite the severity of the situation.

  “You actually got Isaac to meet you?” Liam asked. He sounded impressed or surprised, I couldn’t quite tell which. Maybe both.

  “Your dad threatened him. If he’d allowed any of you in, or talked with you on the phone, he’d have killed Isaac’s girlfriend. Ellie. Gruesomely.”

  “Ellie?” Liam’s face displayed clear surprise this time. “She’s his girlfriend? You sure?”

  I shrugged. “I mean, he didn’t call her that, but… I just assumed. Why?”

  “She’s an old childhood friend of his and Jeremy’s. Used to come around back when mum was still alive. They stopped seeing each other right around when when Isaac turned eighteen,” Louis said. “Doesn’t matter, though—whatever the case, she’s safe, and Dad’s lost his hold over Isaac. So he spilled the beans on Dad’s secrets.”

  Liam arched both eyebrows at his twin. “Yeah? How bad is it?”

  “He had Mum killed,” Louis said softly. “She was working with a cop to gather enough dirt on dad to take him down. So he murdered her.”

  The expression of complete and utter grief that’d passed across Louis’ features when I’d first told him now mirrored on Liam’s face. He shook his head, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.

  I squeezed his hand to offer him what comfort I could, like I had for Louis. “Isaac got a hold of the cop’s files without your dad knowing. He buried them in your mother’s grave. There might be enough evidence in there to threaten your father to back off on the… the assassins.” I wasn’t going to try to pronounce that foreign word again.

  “But not enough to take him down, or that cop would have already done it,” Liam said, his voice raw with anger. “So we’re right back to where we started. Fuck!”

  “Not necessarily.” I looked from him to Louis, my stomach tight from what I was about to suggest. “Isaac said Wesley is your dad’s right hand man. I assume that’s the Wesley we have tied up upstairs?”

  Louis nodded, a small frown appearing between his brows. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Does he have family? Someone he cares about?” I took a deep breath. “Someone he would consider betraying your father for to keep safe?”

  They both stared at me in complete silence, and with expressions so horrified you’d have thought I’d sprouted horns.

  “It’s the only logical option we have left, as far as I can see,” I said. “Do you have any other way of getting close enough to your dad to end it?”

  “Do you know what you’re saying, love?” Liam asked, his voice soft. “What the outcome of your plan would be?”

  “He’d kill your dad,” I said, sounding much more certain than I felt. But this was the only outcome—or it was the only outcome that didn’t end with us dead, rather than the monster who’d tormented his family and forced us into hiding.

  “That’s if things go according to plan. If they don’t… then we’ll have to start cutting slices off an innocent man whose only crime is loving the wrong guy. If Wesley refuses, we have to show him we’re serious,” Louis said. His voice was also gentle.

  “You both need to stop treating me like I’m this fragile china doll,” I said, simultaneously irritated and thankful for their obvious concern. “We need to make it out of this alive, and it’s time to stop being delicate about it. I might not have grown up in the mafia like you two, but what we need right now is a strategy. And that—that I can do. This is no different than a hostile business takeover.” Minus the need for actual murder and blackmail. “And as much as I don’t want to see an innocent man get hurt… I’d muc
h rather risk a nameless person than one of us. Do you think your dad would have spared me, had you not gotten me out of London before he could get to me? If you don’t step up and play the game as cunningly as he does, we’ll lose.”

  The twins were silent for a beat as they exchanged a long look, and I got the sense they were nonverbally communicating with one another. Finally, Liam looked at me, a small smirk lurking at the corner of his mouth. “You’re right. It’s a good plan.”

  “And to think we’ve tried to shield you from our world,” Louis continued. His lips were pulled up in a reflection of his twin’s smile. “You were bloody born for this, weren’t you?”

  “Our little mafia princess,” Liam said, his voice teasing—but there was also an undeniable measure of respect.

  Louis stretched. “I guess I’ll go tell Wesley the happy news. And then we’ll go grave robbing.”

  37

  Louis

  “You sick sonuvabitch!”

  It turned out Wesley wasn’t nearly as thrilled about having his lover threatened as he’d been about spying on ours. I cocked my head at the tied-up criminal on the rickety chair in front of me. His eyes were wild with anger, his muscles bulging in a futile attempt at getting free. “You touch him, I’ll cut that girl of yours to fucking pieces!”

  “It sucks to be on the receiving end, doesn’t it?” I asked him while I cleaned my nails with the tip of my hunting knife. “Wanna hear the funny part? Audrey’s the one who came up with this plan. I know she doesn’t look it, but she’s tough as nails, that one. How about your Roger? Think he’ll be tough, too, if we start slicing bits off him to send to you?”

  Wesley didn’t respond; he simply glared at me with all the hatred of a trapped bull.

  “See, I’m not so sure he will. So here’s my proposal to you, Wesley. You put a bullet in my dad’s brain, and me and my brothers will leave your boyfriend alone.”

  “I’ll never betray William,” he growled, tugging on his tied wrists once more. “Not like you and your ungrateful fucking brothers. Bunch of twats, the lot of you. You never deserved to be born into the Steel empire.”