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BOUGHT BY THE BAD BOY: A Dark Mafia Romance by Zoey Parker (38)


 

Kade

 

My motorcycle rumbled beneath me, drowning out the sound of the city. I was downtown and traffic wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t good. I’d had to stop a half a dozen times already and the sun beating down on me had made this usually pleasant trip miserable. Normally, I went to the shop earlier on in the day both to avoid traffic and the heavy California sun. But I’d had a late night last night and had chosen to sleep in a little this morning.

 

“What do I owe you?”

 

I shuddered at the memory of her sultry voice, letting it slide down my spine and drop into my gut, swirling around there until I felt myself get half hard with just the memory of it.

 

I didn’t recognize her, though I was pretty sure she was someone famous. That was the neighborhood for it and there was a huge party not twenty feet from us. For all the good it had done her. Probably a hundred or so people up there in that house and not a one of them had heard her scream or noticed her being unceremoniously thrown into a car, her silvery dress splitting up the side to reveal the glowing and smooth skin of a toned, long leg.

 

I shook my head, trying to clear it of the memory of her voice, but of other things, too. Like how she smelled of some kind of flower, just light enough that I almost didn’t notice, but when it did it hit, I felt like I’d been drugged. Or the low dip of her cleavage, her perfectly round breasts barely covered by the twin panels of her slinky party dress. Or those full lips as they raged and pouted.

 

On a scale of one to stupid, it was well into absolutely moronic to remember her like I did. The fact that she was in that area at all last night meant she was far out of my league.

 

I was in that area last night, too, my subconscious pointed out to me, but I dismissed the thought quickly as the light turned green, and I actually managed to make it through this time.

 

It was true that I had been in that ritzy, over the top neighborhood last night, but I’d been there on business. My boss had meetings at his house sometimes, but they were usually for only certain members of the Destroyers motorcycle club. I was in pretty tight with him; we’d been friends for a long time now, so I usually went, but I never cared for it. Everyone in that area tended to be snooty and I’d always wanted to ask what he’d been thinking living in a neighborhood like that.

 

But I was sure he had his reasons.

 

I pulled into the shop bay. We had an underground parking lot all to ourselves, something put in when the boss finally got enough money to do it well. Ironically enough, to do things the right way, you had to collect a certain amount of money doing things the wrong way. He still dealt in drugs, mostly to people who had enough money to roll in it nightly. But at least we didn’t have to boost cars anymore. And there were always lines we had never crossed, unlike more than a few motorcycle clubs out there.

 

I came to a stop in my spot in the underground parking, then shoved the keys into my pocket as I dismounted. There was a collection of other bikes already down there, guys who had been working since about six or seven o’clock that morning. I usually worked later in the day to begin with, mostly because my jobs weren’t always one hundred percent legitimate. The shop was on the up and up, but not everything the Destroyers did was, and I handled a lot of that stuff.

 

Heading upstairs, I went toward the coffee pot first. I poured myself a cup of the strong stuff, the taste resembling bitter tar, but that was the way I liked it.

 

When I had a cup, I headed toward one of the back rooms where I could do some paperwork. You would think that someone who mostly dealt with illegal business arrangements wouldn’t have to deal with paperwork, but you’d be wrong. It was mostly the books, money stuff, that needed to be watched, but it was other things too sometimes. Things like names. Business partners. Who had recently screwed us.

 

If the cops ever came snooping around, all of this information would disappear instantly, probably in either a fire or a shredder, depending on how much time we had, but for now it was useful to know who we were dealing with.

 

Before I made it to the office, however, I was stopped by Brody. His sandy brown hair was kind of greasy, because the idiot had likely run his hands through it several times after working on one of the cars in the shop, but otherwise he was a good-looking kid—but definitely a kid.

 

“The boss wants to see you,” he told me, wiping his filthy hands on an equally filthy rag. I liked him, trusted him even, but he wasn’t the brightest crayon in the pack. Still, I’d take him with me on a dangerous mission before I’d take most, if only because I trusted him to listen.

 

“It’s too early for me to be in trouble,” I whined.

 

He barked out a laugh. “Well, I don’t think you’re in trouble, but he’s definitely in a mood.”

 

I sobered up quickly at that little piece of information. It made me wonder what had changed since last night. He’d been in pretty high spirits then, pleased with how the business was being run and how much money we were bringing in. There were several new prospects being vetted and he was pretty happy with them, too, so I wasn’t sure what could have caused his mood to take a nosedive in so short a span of time.

 

Sucking in a deep breath, I steeled myself before heading to his office. Brody wished me luck, then hurried back to whatever car he was stuck under today.

 

I knocked on the door to his office, though it was only a formality, and pushed it open before anyone answered. “You wanted to see me, boss?”

 

The office was clean and neat, despite the general greasiness that came with working around cars and motorcycles. The walls were painted a mossy green color that I figured some designer picked out to instill a “sense of calmness” in the room. There were framed pictures hanging on those mossy walls and there weren’t any windows in the place. There were a couple of green leafy plants settled in the corners that I had to imagine someone else took care of, and there was a desk made of expensive wood with a smooth, polished surface. That was where my boss, Caleb Malone, was sitting, leaning back in his leather chair, staring off into space thoughtfully.

 

“Take a seat, Kade,” he told me, gesturing to one of the two chairs positioned on the other side of the desk. “I need to tell you some things.”

 

I frowned, but took my seat anyway. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but despite Caleb’s general calmness, it was pretty clear that whatever it was, wasn’t good. “Alright,” I told him, keeping my tone neutral and my voice even.

 

There was a long pause of silence where no one said anything. I was starting to get impatient, which I tried really hard not to do with Caleb, and was about to blurt out something stupid when he finally broke the silence.

 

“Do you know I have a niece?” he asked me.

 

The question was so out of left field that I just stared at him stupidly for a long time. Regaining my composure, I cleared my throat and shook my head. “Uh, no, sir. I didn’t realize.”

 

He nodded his head. “Beautiful, sweet girl. Everyone loves her. A real doll.”

 

I wasn’t really sure what to say to this, so I just kept silent, only nodding my head to show that I was at least listening.

 

He continued. “I love my niece, you know? She’s all the blood family I’ve got left. That makes her very important to me, you understand?”

 

I nodded firmly, though I still wasn’t entirely sure where this was going. “Yes, sir. Family’s important.”

 

Turning in his leather chair, Caleb swiveled to face me, leaning his forearms on the desk. “Do you have family, Kade?”

 

I frowned. Family? No, not anymore. I got the shit end of the stick as far as that went. My mother was fucked up on so many drugs that it wasn’t a hundred percent clear whether she’d died of an overdose or just from mixing the wrong kinds of drugs together. That had happened when I was seven years old, and my biological daddy was good enough to step up to the task of raising his poor, worthless son.

 

I’d have rather been put in the system.

 

He was a drunken, belligerent man, so violent that I often missed school just so I wouldn’t have to lie about the bruises and the broken bones. People only believed that you walked into a doorknob and wrecked your bike so many times before they got suspicious. And suspicious was dangerous. It made my father angrier, more violent.

 

Eventually, though, social services figured it out. I was put into the foster care system and the best part of it was when I aged out at eighteen.

 

Family was not something I held near and dear to my heart, but I could understand why someone who’d had a decent family, someone actually worth putting time and effort and love into would. And a niece? Well, that was different to begin with. I hadn’t ever had someone I was responsible for.

 

“No, sir,” I finally told him, trying not to tense up at the painful memories of my deadbeat dad and my overdosed mother. “Can’t say that I do.”

 

He nodded, because he already knew the answer to that. We didn’t spend a lot of time talking about family, which was why I didn’t know about his niece, but it had occasion to come up. He didn’t know the details, but he knew that it was more or less just me.

 

“Then maybe it’ll be a little harder for you to understand this,” he continued thoughtfully, “but this little girl means the world to me. If anything ever happened to her, I’d have to go on the warpath.”

 

I frowned, but nodded. “I do understand, sir. I may not have any blood relatives left, sir, but the Destroyers are my family. I’d do anything for them.”

 

He smiled at me, like that was the answer he’d been hoping for. “That’s what I want to hear. It’s the reason I called you into my office today.”

 

He sat back in his chair, letting his arms slide off the table and hang to the sides loosely. He was a well-built man, with rippling muscles and hard plains making up the rest of his form. Before he’d been leader of the Destroyers, he’d done a lot of odd jobs, most of them illegal. It meant he stayed in shape not to be pretty, but to be prepared. His body was a weapon. It made me like him more.

 

“My precious niece was attacked last night,” he told me, his jaw clenching tightly. I could almost hear the grinding of his teeth. “You can understand why that might leave me a little unsettled.”

 

I nodded, though there was something that was working its way through my system. A nagging feeling like this was an awful big coincidence. But I pushed it aside and focused on the here and now.

 

“I can’t let this happen again,” he continued. “And it will probably happen again. Because, you see, my little girl isn’t just any little girl.”

 

I frowned, confused. “What do you mean, boss?”

 

He smiled, something wicked and smug. “My niece is Abby Woodard.”

 

I froze. Although I was sure I was in the minority, I hadn’t seen a single one of her movies, but I recognized the name. It was hard not to when everyone and their dog was drooling over the starlet who was supposed to be the next Marilyn Monroe. Instantly, I felt a little peeved at him, because Abby Tayler was most definitely not a little girl. What was she? Twenty-one, twenty-two? Somewhere in that area. Old enough to be shaking her tits on the big screen, though as far as I knew she hadn’t yet.

 

I cleared my throat, because I was still trying to figure out what to do with this little piece of information—and why in the hell it had anything to do with me.

 

“She’s very successful,” I finally managed to get out, not sure what else to say.

 

Caleb nodded once. “Yes, she is. And that means that there are going to be jackasses out there who think she belongs to them. Like they’re entitled to things with her. And I’m here to tell those assholes that they’re not.” He spoke fiercely and there was no question that he meant every word of it. I didn’t have to be a member of the Destroyers to know that.

 

“You know who he is, boss? Want me to fuck him up?”

 

I would be willing to do that. There was little I thought was worse than attacking someone who was smaller and weaker than yourself. That meant women and children in my book. Even if she was one beefed up young lady—doubtful, given her career choice—there was little chance that she’d be able to take on a strong man.

 

My mind flashed back to last night, to that woman’s smooth, long legs and her mussed blonde hair, to that dip of cleavage that made me want to bury my face between those perfectly round tits.

 

My thoughts stopped like pulling an emergency brake as I finally put it together. Last night, I’d been a ritzy neighborhood and I’d saved some pretty young woman from being attacked. Then I’d proceeded on my way to Caleb’s home just up the way.

 

Coincidence, I told myself, mostly because I couldn’t afford to have a hard-on for Caleb’s twenty-something blonde bombshell of a niece. But even as I tried to convince myself of that, I knew it wasn’t true. She had the same blonde hair as Caleb, the same piercing blue eyes.

 

“We don’t know who he is,” Caleb ground out, bringing me back to the here and now, sitting in his office with my dick half hard over some prissy starlet that might be my boss’s niece. “Which is why I’ve decided to go another route.”

 

I raised my eyebrows in question. “What’s that, boss?”

 

“I’m going to assign her a bodyguard. One of my guys. You know, someone I can trust.”

 

And that was when things finally began to slide into place. I let out a low groan, knowing what his next words would be before he even got them out. “Sir—” I began, already trying to work out how in the hell I could turn him down without being a complete and total jackass.

 

He held up a hand to stop me and kept talking over me. “You’re my best guy for this job, Kade. I trust you and I know that you can protect her. Just until I find out who this asshole is.”

 

I shook my head, still trying to figure out an argument that would work. “Sir, you know that I am loyal and would do anything to help the Destroyers, but I’m not a bodyguard. I wouldn’t know the first thing about protecting an actress.”

 

He waved off my concern, clearly not worried about it himself. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s simple. You’ll stay with her—she lives in a mansion, so there’s plenty of room—and I’ll pay you like this was any other job.” I opened my mouth to object, but he just kept right on going. “That way if anyone tries to break in, you’ll be nearby. From there, you’ll escort her if she goes out. All those little functions that she insists on attending, you’ll be there. I don’t want her going out alone.”

 

I resisted the urge to groan. This was already sounding like the worst idea ever, even as my mind painted raunchy scenarios of spending the night at a mansion and letting my hands wander beneath that stupid, silver sequined dress of hers.

 

“If you can get her to stay inside, all the better,” he continued, oblivious to my heated desires.

 

I’ll stay inside her, I thought, and immediately wanted to smack myself. That was not an appropriate reaction. I didn’t know why I was swamped with need at the mere thought of this woman. It had never happened before. I wasn’t one of those men who was so easily caged by the stupidity of his dick, though I’d had my fair share of action. I just didn’t think it was worth risking everything over some woman who was probably going to spread her legs for the first guy she found more appealing.

 

“But good luck with that. She’s pretty stubborn.”

 

I clenched my eyes shut and forced a breath into my lungs. When I opened my eyes again, I found Caleb staring at me.

 

“Well?” he asked expectantly.

 

“Isn’t there anyone else?” I asked him, because I knew that this couldn’t end well. Even a single day with that woman was probably going to kill me.

 

Caleb thought about it a moment, considering and weighing in his mind before responding to me. “Well, there’s always Alex—”

 

Before he was even finished, I stood up and blurted out, “I’ll do it.”

 

He grinned as though he knew I would, the bastard.

 

In a fight, there were few I’d rather have on my side than Alex. But I wouldn’t leave him alone with a woman. If I had a sister, I wouldn’t let him be in the same room with her. If I had a woman friend, even someone I wasn’t sleeping with, I wouldn’t let him within ten feet of her.

 

No, if Alex was Caleb’s only other choice, then I would have to take the job. Because even if I was lusting after her like I was, I still knew what “no” meant. Alex didn’t.

 

# # #

 

There was a gate surrounding the house. I double checked the address I had been given, but there was no question. This huge, sprawling mansion with the two-story fence surrounding it was definitely the right place.

 

I had to press the intercom button to get them to buzz open the gate. Then as I drove my motorcycle down the drive, I was met by a valet who was crazy enough to think he was going to park my bike for me. I told him to fuck off and leave it where it was out in the front drive. He had a moment to look irritated, then a second one to get a good look at me.

 

Then he left me alone and I went up the walk to the front doors where I paused.

 

I tried to tell myself that this would all work itself out. I could handle being around her for a few days while they figured out whoever the hell attacked her. I could ignore that tiny waist and those full curves. Those long legs that were the perfect shade of honey golden and those round tits that would feel so perfect in my hands.

 

Okay, I would probably have to get laid soon. Like tonight. Maybe call up one of my exes. I didn’t have a lot of them, though there were a couple who I remembered having a good time with. I just didn’t like to get tangled up in relationships that nine times out of ten were doomed to fail from the very get go.

 

No, I’d have to find some loose girl to screw. Maybe someone I picked up at the bar. A pretty young thing. A blonde. A blonde with a perfect body and striking blue eyes.

 

“Shit,” I muttered to her door, which was thankfully still closed.

 

I was going to have to get myself taken care of very soon or I was going to cross a line. Caleb hadn’t flat out told me not to fuck his gorgeous niece, but the words were there just the same. And while part of me thought she probably wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole anyway, there was another part of me that remembered the smoldering glance she’d sent my way the night before.

 

Screwing up my resolve and reminding myself that this woman was probably a prissy bitch, that she’d been snobby when I’d first seen her, and that I didn’t want to touch that with a ten-foot pole, I finally lifted my large hand to knock. Then I waited several moments.

 

She had to know I was here—it was a mansion for Christ’s sake, I had to be buzzed in—but it still took what felt like ages before anyone came to the door.

 

Instantly, I was relieved and disappointed when the door opened to reveal a very pretty and petite brunette with wholesome brown eyes. I did my best not to immediately frown at her. She wasn’t what I’d been expecting. The image of that startling blonde from the other night had taken strong roots in my mind, but I was at least partially grateful to see that it wasn’t her.

 

If this was my starlet, Caleb’s niece, then I was in the clear. Though she was definitely pretty, I didn’t feel the immediate need to jump her bones right this second.

 

“Come on in, you must be Mr. Johnson,” she greeted in a sweet, high voice that was not unpleasant, but I would never describe as sultry.

 

I nodded. “Yes, I’m the new bodyguard.” I tried not to be mocking as I said the word, but if the tiny frown that found her thin lips was any indication, I hadn’t quite succeeded.

 

“Well, I’m very grateful that you’re here,” she told me happily, despite her frown. She was not what I’d been expecting. “We’ve all been so worried lately.”

 

We? What was this we business? I’d been sent to protect Abby Woodard, no one else. I had opened my mouth to say as much to her, but before I got the chance, the young woman opened up two glass paneled doors that led to the biggest back yard I’d ever seen. The lawn went on for miles and miles it seemed, and there were bushes and sculpted trees, most of them blooming with pleasantly fragrant blossoms. But before all that greenery, there was a carefully carved and designed patio that surrounded what must have been an Olympic-sized pool.

 

And sitting on the side of that pool in a bikini that artfully and barely covered hardened nipples, the rounds of her perky, large tits, and a smooth core between miles of long legs, was none other than the blonde bombshell from last night.

 

She wore huge glasses that covered her bright blue eyes and her blonde hair was perfectly curled and left to hang languidly across her shoulders and over the side of the lounge chair she was occupying.

 

I swallowed and tried to ignore the instant hard-on that was straining against my jeans. Oh shit.

 

“Mr. Johnson, let me introduce my employer, Miss Abby Woodard.”

 

She slid her glasses down just enough to see me without them, her eyes piercing and bluer than the water in her pool. She raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow at me. “You?”

 

Yep, me. And instantly I knew this was going to be a rough couple of days.

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