Married to the Bad Boy(84)

Fucking bastards. I’ll fucking kill every last one of them.

The old fuck lays the contract there as though I’ll sign it, and I spit at it. A splatter of dark blood hits the paper.

“You know, you must be the only guy in the fucking universe who’s fighting so goddamn hard to keep his wife.”

The guy with the pliers presses a gun to my damp head. “Sign it.”

“No.”

I can’t believe this—I fucking failed her, Elena. My beautiful wife is going to give birth to our kid without me, and my heart squeezes to think of her. I don’t give a shit about myself, it’s all about her.

The door slams open and four quick blasts cut down the Popeyes where they stand. The one holding a gun to my head wheels around, screaming, but a blast from a shotgun knocks him the fuck down. My vision swims as I see Les Diables bikers swarming in the small room. The old fucker is still alive. He raises his hands. Kevin, one of the guys I recognize, raises his gun to his head.

“Wait,” I say to him. “I want to do him.”

“Let’s make this quick.”

Relief floods over my body as they cut through my ropes. I wonder what fucking God I have to thank for this. So many questions run through my mind, but I’m just glad that my ass is saved. I stand up, a little shaky on my feet, but Kevin hands me a gun.

“Wait,” the old fuck begs. “Just wait a second. The Italian was the one who put us up to this. He never said to kill you. We weren’t going t—”

BAM.

His head explodes into fragments of skull and brain matter, which vomits out the back of his head. His body lands with a loud thump to the floor.

The bikers hardly blink an eye.

“Thank you guys,” I say through my swollen jaw. “How the fuck did you know I was here?”

“Thank your wife.”

My wife?

I grasp his tattooed arm and he gives me a once over. “Jesus, we should get you to a hospital.”

“I need to see my wife first.”

“She’s fine. I got one of my guys watching her.”

“I’m going home to check on my wife. You can either help me or not.”

My heart thuds, blood sluggishly pulsing from my wounds. Fuck, I feel as if I’m going to pass out. Only sheer willpower puts one step in front of the other. I burst out of the dank room and almost trip over the couple bodies strewn on the floor. Julien gives one of them a fierce kick.

“Good thing we found this place. Looks like their stronghold. Pathetic fucks.”

I don’t know where the hell I am and it’s pitch black outside. Jesus, how long was I out?

I pile in the van waiting for us, and the vice president steps outside. “Hurry the fuck up before the cops get here.”

Everyone shoves themselves inside the van and I close my hand over the wound in my side, which throbs with increasing intensity. It’s like a stabbing pain that’s impossible to ignore or distract from. Pain, pain, pain. My mind flashes with words like: searing flesh.

“He doesn’t look too good.”

“I’m fucking fine,” I roar, my voice punctuated with pain. “I need to see her first.”

“You’re lucky she hired us.”

Hired? What the fuck is going on?

The pieces fall together when we stop in front of my house. Johnny’s car is there and a needle of pain goes right through my heart. She must have asked him for help, but he wouldn’t give it to her.

One of the bikers hurries out of the van to help me climb the steps, but I shove him out of the way.

“I can do it myself!”

“Tony, you have two gunshot wounds.”

I’m fine—I just fucking need to see her. I need to make sure nothing happened to her. I palm the door, and a bloody handprint smears as I push it open.

“Elena!” I yell into the apartment.

Footsteps run toward me, and then I see Elena’s widened, red face and my heart clenches.

“Tony! Oh my God, you’re—you’re hurt!”

She rushes toward me and I wrap my arms around her waist, an incredible wave of relief crashing over me. My eyes burn suddenly and I dig my fingers into her clothes, willing myself not to cry out.

Anything could have happened to her.

Her chest shakes against mine as she succumbs to tears, clutching me so fiercely that I grunt in pain. She pulls back, tears burning red paths down her face as she touches my jaw tenderly.

“Jesus, what did they do to you?”

“I love you, Elena.”

Her lips tremble with a spark of happiness, and I feel it grow inside my chest.

“I never got to say it before they took me, and it was all I could think about.”

My vision swims and I stumble backward. Elena looks horrified.