Married to the Bad Boy(97)
With my money.
He grabbed me the moment I left the restaurant. It was right out in the open and if any of Johnny’s people saw, they didn’t give a fuck. He forced me to go to Tommy to collect my money.
“Those fucks better take care of him. I swear to God. I’ve never paid so much for a fucking hit.”
My murmured, unintelligible response doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He cups his hand around his ear, looking at me.
“What was that? Couldn’t quite make that out.” He grins at the fury on my face.
I’m glad you’re able to keep a sense of humor during this.
“Fuck it.”
He bounces from the bed and grabs the corner of the tape, ripping it off my face. Spittle drools down my cheek, and he wipes it off with his thumb.
“Rafael, let me go. This is insane.”
“Let you go so you can crack me over the head with that lamp?” He nods toward the heavy-looking lamp on the nightstand that I’ve been eyeing. “I don’t think so.”
Rage boils in my chest as I struggle fruitlessly against my bonds.
“When he’s dead, we’ll go upstate. Hide out in some fucking farm. That money will last us a while.”
He talks about it on the bed as though he’s got everything figured out.
“Or maybe I can give it to Vince—get him to call off this shit.”
“Yeah, do that so that I can watch him blow off your head.”
It bursts out of me before I can swallow back the words, and Rafael whirls around.
Oh fuck.
He gets up from the bed, gun dangling from his grip as he walks in front of me, his pelvis facing me. “You’re a sick cunt,” he says as he threads his hand through my hair, yanking viciously. “The moment this kid is born, I’m beating some fucking manners back into you.”
The deepest loathing riles inside me as he gently cups my face, running his thumb over his bottom lip. Disgust swirls in my stomach as I see the bulge in his pants, growing larger by the second.
“Fuck, maybe I should just shove my cock down your throat to shut you up.”
“I’ll bite it off,” I growl.
“You’ll lose more than a couple teeth if you do that to me.”
“No!” I squirm in my seat, terrified when he actually undoes his belt with a groan. He pulls his pants down and I scream.
He swears and smothers my mouth with his hand, and the door suddenly rattles as though a battering ram smashed into it.
“OPEN THE FUCK UP!”
“Tony!”
I manage to scream his name as his hand goes slack around my mouth.
“Fuck,” Rafael swears before he aims the gun at the door.
“NO, DON’T!”
Too late.
The sounds of gunshots explode in my ears as he aims at the door and shoots. Black holes rip through the door and shatter through the window, which is covered with drapes. He clenches his face as he fires indiscriminately.
They’re going to fire back. Fuck.
Using my weight, I swing so that my chair topples to the floor. Returning fire blasts the plaster above me, and a voice screams for them to stop.
BAM!
I see an image of Rafael frantically reloading his gun before he’s blasted off his feet, back smashed against the floor. Blood streaks the wall as he slumps down.
Yes. Finally.
It all happened in an instant, and suddenly men pool in the room. They kick away Rafael’s gun. I can only make out slacks and leather shoes before a familiar face drops down to my level and hauls me upright.
Tony gives me a sad smile as his hands briefly grasp mine.
“Hey there, troublemaker.”
I’m so stunned to see him here that I’m convinced it’s a figment of my imagination. “Tony? How—what about the ambush?”
“They were just low-level street thugs. They backed off once they knew who they were dealing with and told us where to find you.”
I can’t believe it. My heart swells inside my chest as I realize that Tony is really here.
“Vincent, she’s mine! Her baby is mine! Don’t do this!”
“Shut him up.”
Tommy sinks his fist between Rafael’s ribs and he sputters with blood. Tony quickly cuts the duct tape from my hands and feet. A vicious surge of vengeance courses through my limbs.
“Let me do it. I want to.”
Tony’s face darkens. “No wife of mine is going to be an accomplice to murder.”
“Vince, you still got my room at the deli?” Tommy’s voice trembles with excitement.
The New York boss crosses his arms, looking angrier than I’ve ever seen him. “Yeah,” he responds. “Tony, is that okay with you?”
“Let me take care of him, Tony.”
I glance at Tommy, whose excited face shines with bloodlust.