Witness: A Dark Mafia Romance (Romano Brothers Book 2) Page 9

  I blink up at the sun in the sky. “I feel a little…I don’t know.”

  “Well, we’ve all been there.” Mr. Bryant pauses for a response. When he doesn’t get one, he quickly fills the silence. “I’m calling you to offer you the job.”

  I stop in my tracks. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, of course I am. I wouldn’t be calling if I wasn’t. I have to say, Ms. Barnes, I’ve never conducted an interview quite like that. I really like your get it done attitude. I think you’ll be an excellent fit at Bellview.”

  He pauses. I have no idea what to say.

  “Ms. Barnes, do you to accept the position? I had to fight my partners for you, just so you know.”

  A spark of energy starts in the arches of my feet, and surges up the midline of my body. Why would I waste my time being scared when I finally have what I want?

  “I accept,” I say, and quickly hang up the phone. I don’t realize Mr. Bryant was in the middle of saying something until I stow the phone away in my pocket.

  “Who was that?” Mateo asks.

  I blink, staring off into the woods. “I got the job.”

  Mateo nods, pursing his lips. “Congratulations.”

  I never thought it would happen, that I’d get a call like that. I fill my lungs with air, and speak boldly.

  “Let’s stay here, together,” I say.

  Mateo laughs like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard.

  “I can’t leave my family,” he says.

  “It’s not that far of a drive,” I say. “You can commute. With both of our incomes, we can afford an apartment in Manhattan.”

  We stop walking. Mateo pulls me a few steps off of the path.

  “What are you going to do when one of the Salvatores knocks on your pre-war door? Huh?” Mateo says.

  I blink my eyes, finding an inward strength I didn’t know existed.

  “You know how to kill people, don’t you?” I say.

  Mateo pulls his head back in shock. “You’re telling me to kill someone? I thought you didn’t agree with that.”

  I step closer to him, feeling the heat coming off of his skin. “Sometimes you have to. I get that now. Before, I didn’t have anything worth protecting. Now, I do.”

  I reach through his jacket to the back of his pants where he always keeps a gun. I grab the handle, and pull it out. It’s heaver than I expected. And it feels better in my hand. It feels like power. I point it at the woods and grit my teeth.

  “Show me how to use this,” I say, turning to Mateo. “Show me how to be like you.”

  Lust darkens Mateo’s eyes. When he steps forward, I see the bulge forming in his pants. He steps behind me, grabs my wrists, and holds my arms out straight in front of me. I point the gun in a steady grip. Narrowing my eyes, I imagine a target, and mime shooting the gun. Mateo shoves his hard cock against me, and bends to devour my neck with kisses.

  Chapter Ten

  ————————

  Lily

  I focus in on my target, a drawing of a scary looking man with crazed eyes jumping towards me. Breathing in, I locate the spot on his chest I want to hit, and hold my gaze. I remember to tip my hips back, my chest forward, and slowly exhale as I pull the trigger. My bullet blasts a hole mere millimeters from my aim.

  I shudder with the inevitable wave of adrenaline that follows each shot, and smile as it fizzles through my body. I’ve never touched a gun before in my life. Politically, my parents were staunchly anti-firearm, and would never allow them in our house. I was raised to believe guns were scary, dangerous, and could go off with the slightest touch.

  Now, I know what they are. They are tools used to get what you want, whether through force or fear.

  It’s been two months since Mateo and I signed a lease on an apartment in the city. During that time, we’ve traveled to the gun range three times a week. Mateo pushes a button, and the obliterated man whizzes up towards us. It seems to me my practice is paying off.

  “That’s a kill shot,” Mateo says, proudly.

  I blow imaginary steam from the barrel of the gun, and wink at him. Mateo’s lips curl with a smile as he runs his gaze up and down my body.

  “Damn, you look good holding a pistol,” he says, slipping an arm around my waist.

  We’re alone in the gun range. The owner, who has a hands-off way of running things, is nowhere to be seen. I’m still feeling the rush of the shot, and Mateo’s warm body sends blood pumping even more fiercely through my limbs. I close my eyes, just for a second, and lower my gun holding hand.

  It’s enough time for Mateo to swipe the gun from me. My eyes flutter open in shock. He swiftly empties the barrel into his hand. He points the unloaded gun between my eyebrows, and pulls the trigger. The gun makes a tinny click.

  “Boom, you’re dead. Just like that,” he says.

  I harden my face, annoyed that he was able to pull something like that.

  “Let’s try it again,” I say through my teeth.

  Mateo nods, then presses the gun back into my palm. Before I can even get into my stance with my feet hip width apart, Mateo hurls his massive body at me. I fall to the ground with him on top of me. He squeezes my wrist, making my fingers slack. The gun clatters to the ground, and I’m disarmed. He rises up to his knees, points the gun at my chest, and pulls the trigger.

  Click.

  I breathe heavily beneath him. His knees straddle my waist, and I can barely move. I push with all of my strength to get him off of me. He barely budges, just looks down at me with a calm smile. I stop struggling and groan up to the sky.

  “That’s not fair. I wasn’t ready,” I groan.

  Mateo leans down, planting his hands on either side of my head. His mouth is tantalizingly close to mine.

  “Do you think someone who wants to kill you is going to wait for you to get ready?” His breath is hot against my face as he asks this question. “You can’t dwell on all the details, Lily. It has to be instinct.”

  I push up with all my might, but I’m no match for him. It’s thrilling, being at his complete mercy, knowing that no matter what, he could physically overpower me. It’s also annoying, and the smug smile he’s giving me doesn’t help matters.

  “What’s the point?” I say, groaning in frustration. “I can’t fight a man.”

  I proudly call myself a feminist, but the fact is, men are stronger than women. They have bigger muscles, bigger lungs, bigger…everything. It’s just science.

  Mateo, taking advantage of his power, presses his body harder into me, then kisses me wetly on the lips. I grunt, somewhere in the middle of my throat, disdain and desire mingling deliciously in my lower belly.

  “That’s why you shoot first.” Mateo stands up, relieving me of his weight. I fill my lungs full of air for the first time since he tackled me to the ground. He offers me his hand and helps me up. As soon as I’m on my feet, he grabs my arm harshly, and yanks me into his chest. My back is to him. He wraps his powerful foreman around my chest, holding me tight. With his other hand, he pins my arm behind my back. He presses his mouth flush against my ear.

  “You’re right, Lily. You can’t fight a man.” He opens his palm at my chest, and squeezes my breast. After working the cup of my bra down beneath my shirt, he finds my nipple. It stands up hard beneath his flicking finger. “I can do anything I want to you.”

  I take a deep, shuttering breath, my mind spinning with all possible interpretations of this statement.

  “I know,” I say, softly.

  “What was that?” Mateo asks, thrusting his pelvis forward. His hard cock presses against my ass.

  “You can do anything you want to me,” I say, my voice stronger, clearer.

  Mateo smiles against my ear. He lets out a rumbling groan that reverberates down my back.

  “Go to that closet,” he says.

  I smirk. “What’s with you and closets?”

  Mateo chuckles deeply, then shoves me forward. “Go.”

  The c
loset is cramped, with shelves stocked with boxes closing in the already tiny space. For the both of us to fit in here, we have stand chest to chest, smashed up against each other. Mateo closes the door, eliminating all light. I can’t see anything at first. My hearing and sense of touch are sharpened. I can hear Mateo’s deep breathing, the pounding of my heart, and blood rushing in my ears. The slightest graze against Mateo sends shivers across my skin. He snakes his arm behind my neck, and grabs a hold of my hair. He pulls, forcing my head to tilt back, then plants his lips on mine.

  He kisses me assertively, shoving his tongue deep inside of my mouth. His other hand roams freely across my body, fondling my ass and tits. I know what he’s thinking, that I’m his property to do with what he wants. He says it all the time. Though I always argue against it, it is hot in the moment. Blood collects between my legs, making my clit pulse. I’m willing to give him every part of me, to serve him and his pleasure.

  Mateo nibbles at my neck while unbuckling his pants. In the dim light, I see his cock spring out, hard and smooth. I delicately wrap my fingers around the shaft, feeling the veins throb with hot blood. Mateo sinks his teeth into my neck, not enough to break the skin, but enough to make a dent in my flesh. He lets out a small growl, the primal beast within him claiming me. He grabs the hair at the top of my head and pushes downward. I drop to my knees, negotiating my movements in the small space. Once on the ground, I tilt my head back, open my mouth, and wait. Mateo looks down with a dark smile. I lean forward, flicking my tongue against the tip, and tasting the salt of his pre-cum.

  I take him in my mouth, inch by slow inch. Mateo’s knees shake as I teasingly push my tight lips down his cock.

  Who has the power now? I think, sardonically.

  When I reach the base, I pull my head up slowly, moistening his cock to the tip. Mateo makes a low, grumbling sound, then grabs my shoulders, hoisting me to my feet. He pushes me back against the shelves, making the boxes quake. He’s like an animal as he shoves my blouse up over my tits, and forcefully thrusts down my pants.

  When I’m undressed, or undressed enough, Mateo hooks his arm under my knee, lifting my leg. Holding me steady, he stares in my eyes as he pushes his cock inside of me.

  He fucks me hard and without mercy. The shelves bang against the wall, making a racket. I hear voices outside. Other people have come to shoot. I try to tell Mateo, but I can’t speak for moaning. From the intense look on his face, I can tell he wouldn’t care anyway.

  He pounds me harder, making me come over and over again. The voices outside are quiet, and I know they’re listening to us. I don’t feel embarrassed or ashamed, just a powerful thrill. Raw, carnal passion makes me feel above the rules of decency. We can do what we want, when we want.

  Mateo grunts loudly against my ear. I can tell he’s close. I wriggle my hips, making him spasm. I pull back until only the tip is inside of me, pause for a second, then sink down on him abruptly. Mateo melts against me.

  “Shit,” he moans, filling me with his cum.

  He’s usually careful to pull out, but sometimes it just happens. I know one of these days I’m going to turn up pregnant. I only hope it’s not today.

  When we walk out of the closet, two red-faced men try to avoid our eyes. I’ve lost a few buttons on my blouse, and have to hold it together with my hand. Every hair on my head is out of place. Mateo smacks my ass, and leaves his hand there as walk out.

  ————————

  Like Mateo, I’ve gotten into the habit of carrying a gun with me wherever I go. Having that heavy metal strapped to my waist is as natural as carrying a purse now. I’ve become an expert at concealing it beneath my clothes.

  I ride on the crowded subway during morning rush hour, feeling the gun dig into my lower back. I scan the crowd, identifying anyone that could be a threat. Less than a foot in front of me is a huge, tall man with a shiny bald head. He’s blatantly staring at my tits. When he realizes I see him, he gives me a creepy smile. I bat my eyelashes, pretending to be afraid, then casually turn around and lift my blazer, giving him a glimpse of my piece.

  I turn back to him with a relaxed smile. He yanks his gaze from my body, then squeezes through the crowd to get away from me.

  I exhale from the rush of power. This badass stuff is just too damn fun.

  ————————

  When I’m at work, I focus on work, and nothing else. I’m such a perfectionist, that I don’t have the mental space for anything else. Mr. Bryant sees that, and I think, appreciates that about me. I finish my assignments well before the deadline. Sometimes I’m able to anticipate his needs before he even asks.

  It’s a stable professional relationship, but I can tell my boss wants more from me, small talk, that is, which I’m no good at. Every morning, when Mr. Bryant arrives, he makes his rounds in the office, chatting up everyone. I watch the receptionist giddily tell him about her weekend, then share a recipe for peanut butter cookies, and wonder why I can’t be like that.

  “Sounds delicious, Carla. I’ll have to try that,” Mr. Bryant says, patting her desk.

  He walks away, his eyes on my cubicle. I turn to my computer, pretending I don’t see him. But he’s locked in on me, and is walking closer.

  “Good morning, Lily,” he says, pulling up a chair at my desk. “Do anything fun this weekend?”

  Just alternated between self defense lessons and hot sex with my mafia boyfriend.

  I shake my head with a shrug. “Nothing too exciting.”

  Mr. Bryant nods. “Great, great. Anyway, we’re revamping the company website. We have a photographer coming by this evening to take staff photos.”

  “Oh,” I say, looking up, blinking. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Bryant, I’d rather not be on the website.”

  “You…you don’t?”

  “We have a choice in the matter, don’t we?”

  “Of course you do.”

  “Good,” I say, smiling as politely as I can. Assuming the conversation is over, I turn back to my work. Mr. Bryant stays in his seat, staring at me.

  “You still haven’t given us your address.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees.

  Am I going to give you the address to the apartment Mateo and I rent under our ‘Costa’ aliases? Uh, no.

  “Is there something going on?” he asks.

  I clear my throat, noisily, knowing my face is turning bright red. “I don’t see why you need my address. Seems unnecessary. I value my privacy.”

  Mr. Bryant studies my face silently for a minute. He raises his eyebrow, as if he’s been struck by genius.

  “I get it. You’re one of those off the grid types.” He nods, satisfied with himself.

  Seeing an out, I pounce on it.

  “Yep, that’s me alright,” I say.

  Mr. Bryant slaps his hands together, apparently clapping for himself.

  “Uh-oh,” I say, turning to my computer. “The tape fell off of the webcam.” I hold my hand over the small circular lens on top of my laptop.

  Mr. Bryant blinks numbly, then leans forward, studying my computer.

  “There’s a camera in there?” he asks. “I never knew.”

  “There is,” I say. “And people like me, well, we think someone could be spying on you from it. You know, since computers are so easy to hack.”

  I feel like a paranoid freak saying this, but Mr. Bryant seems to be buying it. He sets his lips in a hard line, considering this.

  “You may be on to something, Lily,” he says, standing. “I’m going to tape up my webcam right now.”

  I watch Mr. Bryant walk away, and release the breath I’ve been holding in.

  ————————

  Mateo and I found a beautiful two bedroom apartment. It has dark hardwood floors, a modern kitchen, and several of the original, prewar features. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of, and I want to show it off.

  I convinced Mateo to let me invite Tyler and Jenna over for dinner, which was no easy task, considering
that he doesn’t want anyone knowing where we live. He’s still not entirely sold on the idea as I chop vegetables for the salad while waiting for them to arrive. He leans against the counter, arms crossed, and shoulders tensed.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” he says, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t be talking to anyone from Jersey. This is sloppy.”

  I look up from the cucumbers with a furrowed brow. “What is this? The Witness Protection Program?”

  “Yeah, kind of,” Mateo says. “We can’t leave any trails, anything they can use to find you.”

  “They still don’t even know you did it.”

  “We don’t know what they know.”

  I turn back to the cutting board, and resume my rhythmic chopping.

  “We don’t have to worry about Jenna and Tyler. They live in their own impenetrable bubble.”

  I shake my head dismissively, turning my knife on the Romaine lettuce. Mateo is a silent, tense ball of energy beside me. I turn to him, softening my eyes.

  “I have everything I’ve ever wanted,” I say. “And I just want it to feel normal. I want to have my friends over for dinner. I want to post pictures of my walks in Central Park to social media.”

  Mateo jerks upright, his eyes burning into me. “You haven’t posted anything to the internet, have you?”

  “No,” I say, quickly. “And I won’t. I promise. But if I stop talking to Jenna and Tyler, they’re going to know something’s up. They’ll probably call the police or something. You know how dramatic they are.”

  The intercom at the door buzzes.

  “They’re early,” Mateo says, as if this is a crime.

  I give him a sidelong look, then buzz them up.

  “There you are,” Jenna says, her arms outstretched.

  “We’ve missed you, Lily-bug,” Tyler says.

  They both descend on me in a group hug.

  “I’m not that far away,” I say beneath their arms. “You guys can come visit anytime.”

  Mateo makes a noise, and I can tell he’s not pleased with this invitation.