Falling for the Killer: A Dark Possessive Mafia Romance by B.B Hamel (simple ebook reader TXT) 📕

“I appreciate that.” I touched his shoulder than left him there to keep an eye out in case Ash decided to make a move.

She was going through something and wouldn’t be thinking straight. If she decided to run back to her family, I’d leave her alone—I wasn’t about to kidnap the girl. I knew where she lived and I’d watch her in case she tried to cut me out of the baby’s life. As much as I wanted her, I needed that baby even more—it was my chance to prove that I wasn’t just some street thug killer.

It was my chance to do something halfway decent with this pathetic life.

I went through my usual routine, visited with my guys, checked on my corners, and it was all quiet. The Healys hadn’t tried to hit back yet, but they would eventually, I had no doubt about that. Colm Healy ran the second most powerful crew in Philadelphia, and he got to his position through violence and coercion. That wasn’t about to stop now, just because I put some bullets in a couple of his boys.

If anything, it would only spark more retaliation, and I had to be ready.

After a few hours, toward the end of the night, I got a text from Brett. Ash left the house. Following.

I felt a little stutter in my chest and started driving back in that direction. I got another text a few minutes later. Went to Monk’s. What should I do?

I typed back, Stay where you are and keep an eye on it. On my way.

I found Brett sitting on a stoop across the street from Monk’s. He wasn’t even trying to hide and grinned sheepishly as I rolled down the block.

“Hey, boss,” he said. “She’s been in there for ten minutes now.”

“You see her with anyone?” I asked.

He shook his head. “She went in alone. People have been coming in and out since then though.”

“Anyone that might be her dad?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what a rich old white guy looks like.”

“Tall, gray buzzed hair, wears a suit. Looks like he wants to kick you in the throat for fun.”

“Nah, nobody like that.” He laughed a little and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, boss. I thought about going in after her, but I don’t know. She doesn’t know what I look like, right?”

“I hope not,” I said. “Since you’re sitting right there.”

He rubbed his face. “Ah, shit. I didn’t think about it.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m parking nearby. You stay.”

“Roger that, boss.” He leaned back on his elbow and stretched out his legs with a sigh.

I found a spot a block up and pulled it. I could just see the front of Monk’s. I texted Brett, Message me as soon as she’s out.

Then I leaned back in my seat to wait.

I didn’t know why she was in there, but I had a feeling she was meeting with someone. I guessed her mother or father, or maybe her brother. Could’ve been Stuart, but I doubted it. Even if she decided she couldn’t stay with me after witnessing that hit, she wouldn’t go back to Stuart, at least. She fucking hated that guy.

And for good reason. He was a real dick.

But I was worried. I didn’t want to lose her to her family again. I didn’t think she’d go down that road, since she was basically a pretty piece of jewelry to sell off to the highest bidder, but her life would be more comfortable with the Adamson family.

Some part of me felt like I was depriving my child of a future. If I really wanted to be a good father, maybe I should step aside and tell her to go back home. That way my child could grow up with a real family, a rich and powerful family, and have the sort of opportunities I could only dream about.

I couldn’t give a baby what the Adamson family could. I had money and I had some sway on the streets, but my life would always be violence and uncertainty. My kid could have stability and real wealth and a real future.

Then again, Ash had all that, but she wanted to give it up. I could see it in her eyes every time we talked about her family. There was a deep, horrible unhappiness inside of her, and I think it was from growing up with those people. I could only guess at how being wealthy as hell would affect a person, like a drug or a disease. Being with those people, growing up in that house would warp a human into something unrecognizable.

Like Stuart, or like her father.

My phone buzzed. She’s out, Brett said.

I started my engine and looked over my shoulder.

A van came screaming around the corner. I frowned a little bit, head tilted, and my phone buzzed.

From Brett: SOS HEALY.

“Fuck,” I said, and threw the truck into gear. I heard a scream, then the van door slammed shut and it came barreling toward me.

I barely managed to get my truck out into traffic in time. The van smashed into me, knocking my truck sideways, but I got wedged up against a Mini Cooper. The van’s driver was screaming, and I crawled across the seat to kick open the passenger side door. I paused to pull a gun from the glove box before walking around the truck.

The driver didn’t have a chance. I put a bullet in his head before he realized what I was doing. I heard shouts from the back and muffled screams, like they’d shoved something in Ash’s mouth. Brett came limping toward me, eyes wide and wild, and I waved him off as I grabbed the back door and yanked it open.

Gunfire burst out. I stood off to the side, away from the opening. When it paused, I aimed inside and was about to shoot—

But hesitated. Ash was in there, and I might hit her.

More gunfire. I had to pull back, cursing.