Bind: A Dark Bad Boy Romance Read online

  Once Abram’s body was wrapped up, I walked back into the bedroom. Emma was already sleeping when I got into bed next to her.

  Exhaustion rolled through me. Even though I wanted to fight it, wanted to wake her up and convince her not to come, I found myself nodding off.

  Maybe at least I’d get to dream of my cock slipping into her soaked pussy, of the look on her face as she came hard on my big cock.

  16

  Emma

  I sat on the museum steps, enjoying the sun streaming down. It was crowded with tourists and other people milling around, some sitting just like I was, some eating, some heading into the building.

  Brooks had gotten up early and gone to see a veterinarian who was willing to stitch shut his wounds, no questions asked. Once that was done, we went to the meeting place early, and he went out to scout out the area. He was annoyed that I had come, but that didn’t matter. I needed to take control of my own life and stop being a passive observer. If I had stayed behind, I would never have forgiven myself. Some part of him had to understand that.

  I felt good. I didn’t know why, since I was probably in a lot of danger, but I felt good. The sun was shining, it was nice and warm, and a cool breeze passed over the crowd. I felt strong and light and free for the first time in a long time.

  I watched as Brooks came up the steps toward me. I couldn’t help but smile at his dour, serious expression. He wore a light brown jacket, a black T-shirt, and a pair of loose jeans. I knew the jacket was hiding at least one gun and a knife, though I was betting he had more on him.

  I smiled at him as he sat next to me. “Nice day,” I said.

  “Yeah,” he grunted. “Beautiful.”

  “See anything?”

  “Nothing.”

  I put my hand on his leg. “See? Relax. We’ll be okay.”

  “Easy for you to say. I’m the one who has to kill a bunch of people if this goes wrong.”

  I moved my hand back and sighed, leaning back. “Give me a gun. I’ll do some killing.”

  He laughed. “You’re more likely to shoot yourself or me than the enemy, so no. You can just run.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Seriously, Emma. If this goes bad, you have to run. And run fast.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they’ll come for you. They’ll try to take you.”

  “So what? I’m not leaving you behind.”

  “In my bedroom, under the mattress, there’s around twenty thousand in big bills. Take that and leave the country.”

  “Holy shit,” I said. “Seriously? Under the mattress?”

  He grinned at me. “I know. Really cliché.”

  “You’re a gangster with cash under his mattress. It doesn’t get any more cliché.”

  “Can’t help it.”

  “I was wondering what that lump was.”

  “You were feeling sweet, sweet cash.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you really think I’ll need it?”

  “Maybe,” he said. “Just be ready. Can you promise me?”

  “Fine,” I said. “I promise.”

  He nodded, satisfied. “Now I guess we wait.”

  I held my hand up to shield my eyes. I checked my watch and frowned. It was a few minutes past one already, and the Spiders hadn’t shown up yet.

  I found myself looking around the crowd, wondering if any of them were the Spiders. I watched a young mom playing with her little baby and wondered if she had another life. I watched an old man buying a hotdog, suspicious of his oversized jacket.

  Everyone around me had become a suspect. Still, that didn’t do much to cut into my bad mood.

  “What do you think of him?” I asked, nodding at the old man.

  “Killer, no doubt,” Brooks said.

  “Really?”

  “Look at how he moves. Killer, with magic knees.”

  “You mean titanium knees. He’s at least eighty years old.”

  “He’s been in the game forever.”

  I laughed. “What about her? The girl with the pink hair.”

  “Oh,” he said, nodding. “Now she’s dangerous. Watch out.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s got pink hair, tattoos, and a skateboard. That girl might not be a killer, but she’s the most dangerous person here.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh again as we imagined fake scenarios for a few more people in the crowd. It felt comfortable laughing and joking with him like this, almost as if we weren’t about to meet a deadly gang about my future.

  I felt myself feeling comfortable with him. Just a few days ago, Brooks was a terrifying stranger who I was convinced wanted to rape and murder me. Now, though, I trusted him more than anyone else in the world. I knew he had my best interests at heart, even if I didn’t always agree with him.

  Brooks was a killer, a dangerous man, but he cared about me, made me laugh, made me feel things I’d never felt before.

  A few minutes later, Brooks’s phone began to ring. He answered it.

  “Yeah?” A short pause. “Where?” He clenched his jaw. “Fine. See you shortly.”

  He hung up the phone.

  “Come on,” he said, standing. “We’re going inside.”

  “What?”

  “Apparently the Spider is inside.”

  I got up and followed him as we wove our way through the crowd. He moved like a panther stalking his prey, lithe and strong. I couldn’t help but marvel at him as he dodged past the tourists and their screaming kids.

  We got in line and waited. It moved pretty fast, and soon enough we had our tickets. I followed him as he moved along, his eyes constantly darting around. I could see that he was assessing everything around him, wondering what the angles were, how we could escape. I should have felt nervous, but all I felt was excitement coursing through my veins.

  I’d never done something like this before. I felt like a spy in a movie or something. Without Brooks, I would have been lost, alone, and terrified, but with him, I felt incredibly alive.

  We wove our way through exhibit after exhibit. From dinosaur bones to renaissance paintings, the museum seemed to have everything. I wanted to stop and stare at the art, to feel and experience it, but we had something more important to do. Maybe after we could wander through the halls together and I could figure out what made this man tick.

  Finally, we reached the back of the building. There weren’t any other people here as we stepped into a room dedicated to voodoo art and culture. Shrunken heads, magical runes, small statues in various shapes, bundles of incense, and more dotted the walls and the glass cases.

  We stopped and Brooks looked around. “This is the spot,” he said.

  “Think they’re late?”

  “I don’t know.” I saw him reaching slowly toward his pants where his gun was hidden.

  “Hello, Brooks.”

  We both looked up, surprised. A thin woman stepped into the room, smiling. She was beautiful, with thick dark hair, large dark eyes, and light, flawless skin.

  “Holy shit,” Brooks said.

  “I prefer Louisa,” the woman responded.

  “What’s happening?” I asked Brooks softly.

  “This is Louisa Barone. She’s the daughter of the mafia’s head boss.”

  She smiled and nodded. “Yep. That’s right.”

  “So you people know then?” he asked. “Why would you come here and not Dante?”

  “You misunderstand, Brooks. I’m the person you’re here to meet with.”

  I watched as Brooks stared at her and slowly comprehension dawned. “You’re the Spider.”

  “That’s right. I’m the black widow.”

  “I heard you never left your room.”

  She smiled again. “That’s a convenient lie. Well, it used to be true, but not anymore.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She walked into the room. “Can you guess why I picked this room in particular?”

  “Back of the building, fe
w people, easy to attack.”

  “All of that is true,” she said, “but there’s something else. Voodoo itself is important to me.”

  “Voodoo,” Brooks said flatly.

  She nodded again. “Haitian Voodoo is very, very interesting. It has a long history of important women priests. I think they’re called mambo. The mambo protect their people with magic spells to keep away evil spirits.” She looked up and smiled at me. “That’s more or less what I do, Emma.”

  I blinked at her.

  “Why are we here?” Brooks asked.

  Louisa looked back at him. “I want to help you, Brooks. I wanted you to see me, to know my secret, in exchange for your trust. Now you know. I’ve been attacking my father’s mafia, stealing away the women he enslaves and setting them free. I’ve been running a large network of men and women for a long time, all building up to this.”

  “I don’t understand,” Brooks said. “Why would you hurt your own family?”

  She shrugged and came closer. “I have my reasons. But most importantly, I can help you.”

  “How?”

  “I have connections. I can get you into a safe house. I can get rid of Abram’s body as well, even run interference with my family for a while. Soon, we’ll be able to get you both out of the city.”

  “Why?” I asked suddenly. “I don’t understand. Why would you risk your family for us?”

  Louisa looked at me and smiled. “I knew you were worth bringing here. Have you ever felt powerless, small? Like nobody could save you?”

  I nodded but said nothing.

  “Me too,” she said. “I want to give power to the powerless. That’s why I save these women forced into sex slavery. That’s why I want to help you.”

  “I don’t trust you,” Brooks said. “You’re a Barone. You’re one of them. Why the hell would I believe you?”

  She sighed. “Because, Brooks, you have no other choice.”

  Just then, men flooded into the room, men wearing black masks and carrying weapons. Brooks reached for his gun, but in the heat of the moment, I found myself throwing myself at him. I grabbed his arm, stopping him just as the men reached us. They quickly disarmed Brooks and grabbed me, ripping me away from him.

  Black hoods were shoved over our heads. Strong hands pulled me along, shoving me, pushing me. I stumbled in total darkness, my heart hammering in my chest.

  She wanted to give power to the powerless.

  With a black hood over my head, I felt more powerless than I ever had before.

  17

  Brooks

  That was not at all how I wanted that meeting to fucking go down. When planning this out, I didn’t for a second imagine getting swarmed by armed men in black ski masks and getting a black bag shoved over my head.

  I couldn’t see a fucking thing as I stumbled along, led like a dog by some goon with a gun. I’d wanted to pull my weapon, to at least take a few of the bastards down before they got me, but Emma had stopped me. I didn’t know what she was thinking, why she wanted to be a part of this, but it was too late now.

  We were both black-bagged and getting dragged along by Louisa Barone.

  I couldn’t help but think the whole thing was shit. How could Louisa Barone be running one of the most dangerous up-and-coming gangs in the city? She was living in the Barone family’s mansion, right in the center of the mafia’s power structure. There was just no way she could run a serious crew from there.

  But what I saw of the guys who came into the room before they black bagged me was pretty convincing. They had looked just like the Spiders I saw the other night, right down to the black masks and the weapons.

  Fuck, this was bad. If Louisa was working for the mafia, we were both fucked. As far as I knew, only Abram actually knew what Emma looked like, but if my problem had escalated all the way up to the top of the Barone family, they probably all knew about it.

  Or maybe Louisa really was running the Spiders. If that was the case, we were being abducted by a notoriously violent gang that was known for stealing women away, never to be seen or heard from again.

  As I shuffled along, getting prodded in the back every few steps for being too slow, I couldn’t help but feel like we were being disappeared too.

  I stumbled into a few racks and boxes as I moved along, banging my shin at least once. The Spiders were quiet all around us and nobody spoke. The rooms we moved through felt airy and huge, cavernous and quiet, but I really had no fucking clue where we were. I tried to listen for any telltale signs, but there was nothing, just quiet cut by the sounds of our footsteps and breathing.

  It was incredibly eerie the way the Spiders stayed so quiet. I was worried about Emma and could only imagine how this was playing out in her mind. She’d never been in a position like this before, though then again I never had either. The main difference was, I’d risked my life before and she hadn’t.

  Eventually I heard a large door opening, deep and booming. I felt sunlight on my skin, warmth spreading over my body, but nothing got in through the hood. I heard a car’s engine running and a door open, and then I was carefully hustled into the back of what felt like a large van.

  There was more movement around me, and eventually the van started moving.

  “You okay?” I said softly.

  “Brooks?” Emma’s voice.

  “I’m here,” I said.

  “I’m okay,” she answered.

  “Quiet, both of you,” a woman’s voice said from very close by.

  I went silent and leaned back up against the rough metal side of the van. I was guessing we were in some kind of industrial van large enough to fit at least most of the group that had taken us. The woman’s voice wasn’t Louisa Barone’s, so I had no clue if she was along for the ride or not.

  My hands were still free, but they were useless. I felt around the space a little bit until I felt a hard jab in my chest.

  “Sit still,” the woman said.

  “Where are we going?” I asked her.

  “Talk again and I’ll hurt you.” I felt her jab the hard thing into my chest again, and she left it there for a moment.

  I assumed she had a gun pressed to my heart, and so I decided it was best just to sit back and relax.

  It was hard to enjoy the ride, what with the black bag shoved over my head. Normally a nice leisurely drive around the city was nice, especially with the weather so perfect. Turned out that getting abducted and black bagged really put a damper on the whole fun thing.

  We drove for a while, though it was hard to keep exact time. When your head was in a black bag and you had nothing to help you mark the minutes, it got difficult to tell exactly how long you’d been moving. I had a feeling that we weren’t in the city anymore, though, as the van began to stop less and less. That meant there were fewer stop signs and streetlights.

  I estimated we drove for a half hour at least. The van turned off a normal road and began to drive down what felt like a gravel driveway or an unpaved path or something like that. I could hear the tires bumping around and rocks getting flung up into the undercarriage.

  Soon enough, the van stopped. The door opened and I was dragged out. I stumbled along, assuming Emma was right behind me.

  We walked for a bit and then I heard two voices, both women.

  “Is the room ready?”

  “Yeah. It’s good.”

  Then nothing else. We walked up some wooden steps and then I heard a door open. We were hustled inside a structure, up another staircase, down a long hallway, and through another door.

  The person leading me suddenly disappeared. I couldn’t feel her hand on my shoulder anymore. I heard more footsteps and some breathing as the door to the room shut.

  I stood there silently for a second.

  “Emma?” I asked.

  “Brooks. I’m okay.”

  “Is there anyone else in here?”

  There was nothing. Silence.

  I slowly reached up and grabbed my bag. Slowly, so slowly, I pulled it o
ff my head.

  Emma stood a foot away from me, the bag still covering her face. She was inching around the room, hands out, feeling for something to guide her.

  “Emma, it’s okay,” I said. “Take off your bag.”

  She reached up and tentatively pulled it off.

  “Brooks,” she said, and walked over to me. I wrapped my arms around her.

  “We’re good,” I said. “We’re okay.”

  “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  The room itself wasn’t large. There was a queen bed, a dresser, and a small side table. There wasn’t much else in the space, and although there was a window, there were bars blocking it.

  “Looks like a bedroom,” I said as I walked over to the window.

  Emma came up next to me. “We’re not in the city anymore.”

  “No,” I grunted, “we’re not.”

  Forest spread out all around us. There was maybe fifteen feet until the tree line started.

  “Any idea how long we drove?” she asked.

  “Half hour is my guess, but I really don’t know.”

  She nodded and sat down on the bed. “Why did they do that?”

  “I don’t know that, either.” I sat next to her. “But friends don’t usually drag their friends off with black hoods over their fucking heads.”

  “That’s a good point.”

  I grinned at her. “Happy you came with me?”

  “Not at this moment, no. Not really.”

  I laughed. “This is what my life is like, dangerous and violent.”

  “So you get a black bag over your face a lot then?”

  I smirked. “That was a first.”

  “Well look at you. Apparently you haven’t done everything.”

  I leaned closer to her. “I’ve done enough, girl. You learned all about that last night.”

  Before she could answer, there was a short knock at the door before it pushed open.

  A woman stepped inside, quickly shutting the door behind her. She had blond hair pulled back into a tight braid and wore a flannel button-down shirt and tight jeans. She had a large rifle loosely hanging down from her shoulder.