A Bad Man: Joey Read online

  She looked down at her wrist that she had landed on and saw the black and blue bruise that crept out from under the bandage he’d clearly wrapped it in while she was out. “You did this?” She held up her hand. It was more of a statement than a question, because obviously he had been the one to do it.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “It isn’t broken, so you’re very lucky. But it’ll hurt like a motherfucker for a while.”

  “And that man, you killed him, too.” She stated it. All of this she knew, but she also knew she needed to get her head clear, and with the pounding in the back of her skull, the blood that covered her, and her wrist feeling like it was run over by a semi, she wanted to hear him say all of this.

  “What surprises you more, that I took the time to help someone out because I can feel a semblance of compassion, or that I killed someone that was about to put a bullet through your head?”

  Her pulse started to beat rapidly. No blood marred his body, and his tanned, firm flesh could be seen at the junction where his shirt collar gaped open. Marra swallowed and turned to grab the pills and water. She took a few, and washed them down, but one sip wasn’t enough. It was like she was starved for the water, and guzzled half of the bottle in a matter of seconds. When she was finished she looked at him again, knowing that Joey would continue to ask her that question. Taking a deep breath, she stared at her hands in her lap, and then ran her hand over the bandage. The silence stretched between them, but Marra knew a man like Joey, one that dealt with death in his chosen “profession”, had an abundance of patience.

  She stared at him and finally answered. “Your compassion, Joey. I’m surprised by the time you took to save me, to bring me to wherever it is that I am at, and to care enough about my life to even save me.” Sweat was beading between her breasts and down her spine, and the longer he stared at her, not speaking, the more she grew warm and uncomfortable from the situation.

  Joey exhaled and then pushed away from the dresser and moved back over to the chair he had been previously sitting on. “Right now you’re at my apartment in the city.”

  She glanced out the window. “But why?”

  He exhaled again and ran his hand over his face. He looked exhausted, and those two things were not something she had ever seen in Joey Bacelli before. He was always in control. He dropped his hand back to rest on his thigh and leaned back. His muscular thighs were spread slightly in a relaxed position, and he rested an arm over the back of the chair. “Is it so fucking hard to believe that I wouldn’t want anyone to hurt you, Marra?” he said evenly, calmly. “Is it a damn mystery that I would want to interact with you on more than just a sexual level?”

  She didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know what to say to any of that. She had assumed Joey wanted her as a piece of ass, and because she kept refusing his advances he got more adamant on having her. It was like he wanted her more because he couldn’t have her, and Joey Bacelli was used to getting what he wanted. “Yes, Joey, it is a little surprising, given the fact you are…” She licked her lips, not sure if it was smart to say what she had been about to say out loud.

  He leaned forward once more, now looking very interested in this conversation. “Say it, Marra. The fact that I’m what?”

  “That you run the Bacelli crime family,” she said quickly and on a long breath.

  He smirked and leaned back in his seat. “So because I chose to live my life a certain way means I would let an innocent woman die?”

  Marra stayed still, and when she didn’t answer and he stood and walked toward her, she finally found the strength to push back against the headboard. The scent of him filled her nose as he came closer, and it was the same spicy, potent cologne she smelled on him every time he came into the café. It was subtle, yet dark and dangerous. And when he sat on the edge of the bed and she felt the heat from his body surround her, she started to feel lightheaded. Joey reached out and brushed a piece of hair away from her face.

  “You need a shower,” he said and removed his hand from her. “You have blood all over you.” He stared into her eyes, and she got lost in the grey depths. “I have some questions I want to ask you, but I’ll let you get cleaned up first.” He didn’t move right away. He had one arm caging her in place on the bed beside her outer thighs, and the other on his lap. She felt like a small animal, a piece of meat in this predator’s clutches.

  “How long do you plan on keeping me here?”

  He leaned back an inch, not enough to give her breathing room, though. “We won’t worry about that right now, because we have other pressing issues that need to be laid out.” He stood and moved over to the door. “The shower is through that door.” He pointed to the bathroom she had already scouted out as such. “There are some clothes on the shelf for you, and when you’re finished meet me out in the living room.” And with that he turned, left the room, and shut the door behind him.

  ****

  Joey grabbed the bottle of Bourbon off the counter and poured a shot for himself. He could have laughed at the absurdity of drinking bourbon and having another residence in the town of Bourbon. It was pretty fucking cliché, but what did he care? He poured himself another shot, and once he finished that off he drank a third. He had nowhere to be tonight, and every reason in the world to get good and trashed, although he reminded himself he needed to keep a clear head because he still had to ask Marra what she had heard from Mario and that Gondalo fucker. Even now Joey could see the snake tattoo that had been inked on the neck of the fucker he had blasted. Michael had the same tattoo in the same spot, and it was some kind of gang mark, which led Joey to believe that the Gondalo crew was nothing more than an organized group that had nothing better to do than try to start turf wars.

  He took one more shot and pushed the bottle aside. Since the Gondalo crew moved in to the town right next to Bourbon six months back, Joey had let it go. They had kept to themselves, running petty money making scams that didn’t interfere with anything Joey or the Bacelli crew had working, and didn’t test the boundaries of his power. But slowly they had started coming into his town, eating at his businesses, and starting to make it known that they were trying to set roots. He had no fucking clue who their boss thought he was, but Joey had had enough of Carlos’s shit, and a confrontation was coming. Joey was strong, had power behind him, and a reputation that leveled others. If some lower class gang leader thought he was going to come in and stir shit, he clearly didn’t know anything about Joey or his family.

  The shower cutting off had sounded about ten minutes ago, and he knew Marra was probably stalling. She was confused, hurt, and didn’t know what his intentions were. Hell, Joey didn’t know what his fucking intentions were. He wanted her, had for the last year, but then all this shit to get her into his bed and his life had gone down when he had blown the brains of some fucker all over her face. It didn’t matter if he had done it to save her life. She was innocent, and the life she led was in the farthest spectrum from how he lived his.

  The door opening behind him had Joey turning around. She stood there, her dark hair wet and curling around her face, and the white t-shirt and sweatpants he had given her about three sizes too big.

  “Sorry about the clothes, but I didn’t expect to have a female guest over.”

  She moved closer, glanced around the room, and then stopped a few feet from him. “Nice place,” she said a little timidly. “Why do you have me here again?”

  Well, she got right to the point. He grabbed the bottle of liquor and held it up. He didn’t expect her to want some, but he was a gentleman—at times, at least. But she surprised him once again and nodded.

  “After the night I’ve had I could probably use the whole bottle.”

  He smiled and grabbed a shot glass. After filling it and handing it to her, he watched in amusement as she tossed it back and then promptly gasped out. Joey shouldn’t find anything funny right now, but there was something about Marra that made him feel a little lighter.

  “Another.” She handed hi
m the glass. “Please.”

  He lifted an eyebrow and smirked, but grabbed the bottle and topped off her glass. She threw that one back with the same disgusted finesse, and then shook her head.

  “I think that’s my limit, especially since I’ve already been drinking tonight.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  She clutched her stomach and shook her head.

  He stared at her until she finally looked up at him. “I have you here because I want you here.” He waited for her to respond, but when she didn’t he moved over to the fire he had started, and leaned against the mantle. She didn’t follow him, but it didn’t matter because she’d hear him well enough. “Not only did I save your life, but I took you out of an equation that could very well get you killed again.” He glanced at her over his shoulder.

  “What do you mean, took me out of the equation of getting killed again?”

  She looked honestly perplexed by it all, and it made Joey realize even further that she was so fucking innocent and blind to everything that he truly did. He turned so he could face her, and gestured for her to have a seat in the chair in front of him. She was slow in moving, probably because she was so unsure of this whole thing, but she did finally have a seat.

  “What exactly did you hear before that fucker grabbed you?” he asked with a deadly calm voice. He saw her throat work when she swallowed, watched the droplets of water land on her shirt from the tips of her hair, and noticed the way the white material became transparent. Joey shifted in his seat, knowing he shouldn’t be feeling any kind of arousal at a time like this, but also knowing that when it came to Marra he tended to go against the grain.

  “All I heard, and remember, was the man that was holding the gun said he wasn’t any use to Carlos any longer. The guy called him Mario, and that Carlos would have fun making Mario’s wife his whore.” She exhaled loudly and rubbed her hands down the length of her thighs. “He also said Kelly might have been innocent of ratting his crew out, but he’d dirty Kelly right up.”

  Joey let her words play through his mind. It was clear that there was something up with Mario and the fact everyone in Joey’s crew thought she had left him. Obviously that wasn’t the case. Was Carlos using Mario’s wife, Kelly, as leverage to get Mario to do what he wanted? That would make a hell of a lot of sense seeing as Carlos might be trying to get intel on Joey’s operations. The problem was that Carlos was a dumb motherfucker because if he had been smart, or knew anything about the Bacelli crew, he wouldn’t have tried to get a made man to turn and instead gone after someone low on the totem pole.

  “There wasn’t anyone else in that alleyway, or in that area besides the two men that are dead right now, and me.”

  Joey pulled his thoughts away from finding Carlos and beating his skull in with a baseball bat. He stared at Marra and shook his head at how naive she was. “Marra, your cluelessness to the situation would be endearing if you weren’t right in the middle of what will be a war.” He was going to find that pathetic excuse for a gang leader, and show him what it meant to get involved with Joey Bacelli. He was going to show him that if he fucked with anyone Joey considered in his protection, his death would be slow and agonizing.

  And Marra fell into that category.

  “A war?” She shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable.

  “I highly doubt the man that sent out the hit for Mario only had one guy for the job. Most likely there was a spotter, a man that was the lookout.” He moved away from the fire and sat on the couch across from her.

  “But I didn’t see anyone else,” she said with this tightness in her voice, and he could tell she was frightened at the reality of it all.

  “A spotter would be there, but unseen, sweetheart.” He placed his arms on the back of the couch and watched her as she stared at the fire.

  “I’ll leave town, find somewhere else that doesn’t have me in this fucked up mafia war.” She snapped her gaze to his right after she said it, as though she were afraid of the words she had just spoken.

  He shook his head. “Not going to happen.”

  She sat up straighter. “Why?” Her voice got harder, and he saw a spark of the fighter he knew she was.

  “Aside from the obvious that I am the only one that can protect you?” he leaned forward. “You may or may not know some pretty vital information, things you shouldn’t know that could get you hurt.”

  “You don’t even know if I was seen, or if someone is coming after me.” She was twisting her hands together in nervousness. “But yes, aside from all of that, why would you want me here, in your personal space, and wearing your clothes?” Mara picked at the shirt and stared at him as if in challenge.

  “I want you, Marra, and keeping you here, knowing that I am the only one that can make sure you’re safe if, in fact, you are going to be targeted, just makes my need to have you even greater.” He was surprised when she didn’t blink, let alone flinch. “If you think I’m a bastard because I can and will keep you here, making sure you’re safe until all of this is taken care of, then so fucking be it.”

  She shook her head, opened her mouth like she was about to say something, and then promptly closed it. Instead of saying anything she stood and walked over to the bottle of liquor on the kitchen island. Joey didn’t move as he watched her take a shot right out of the bottle, set it down, and brace her hands on the counter. She hung her head, and the desperation was clear in the way she held herself.

  “I could leave, though, Joey.” She faced him. “I could go to another state, just pack up the few things I have and disappear.” She was crying now, not hard, wracking sobs, but ones where she was still trying to hold onto her composure. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be in this fucked up situation, and I don’t want to stay here with you so you can protect me.” She wiped away her tears almost angrily, and Joey stood, hating that seeing her upset pinched at his heart.

  He moved toward her and was glad when she didn’t retreat. But when she reached behind her and held onto the counter, her body going tense, and her eyes widening, he knew that she played a good poker face.

  “Are you upset because you’re in this situation, or that I am the one you’re in it with?” Obviously he knew for anyone that wasn’t used to this life it would have been a hard adjustment and realization to come to, but he didn’t think it was just that reason. There was something else that she was not just coming out and telling him.

  And he would get the truth out of her, one way or the other.

  Chapter Five

  Marra tried to calm her breathing, but Joey was so close, and the look on his face was so damn intimidating. He wanted her to bare her soul, to tell him things that she couldn’t.

  He took another step forward, placing his hands on the counter on either side of her. The scent of his liquor laced breath moved along her lips, and she felt this chill move along her arms. She shouldn’t want him right now, not after everything he had just told her. Someone could be after her because of what she witnessed and the fact she got away. Maybe they thought she’d run to the cops, tell them what she heard and have this huge investigation going on. But right now, as she stared into his grey eyes, took in the way his short dark hair fell across his forehead, and the way he had a day’s worth of dark stubble along his cheeks and jaw, he looked so good, so dangerously sexy and controlling that she couldn’t help but feel this submissive side rise up inside of her. She wanted this man to dominate her, to show her why he was always so in control, had so much patience, and was so determined to have his way no matter what.

  “Tell me why you really want to leave, and don’t give me that bullshit that you’ve been spouting off to me for the last year.” He stared right in her eyes, refused to give her any breathing room, and Marra felt suffocation start to take hold of her.

  “Why does it matter right now?” After all the things that have just happened, why do you even care why I want to leave?” She felt a bead of sweat trail down her temple. “Do you really thi
nk anything else is important right now?” Her life was on the line, according to him. “And why are you just staring at me not saying anything?” Her heart was beating faster now, her nerves going higher, and her emotions more heightened with what was happening right here and now.

  He leaned in another inch, and she felt the heat from his breath move along her face. She actually had to stop herself from moaning at how good it felt with having him so close.

  “What difference does it make why I want you to do something?” He lifted one of his hands and placed it right by her cheek, so close, yet not touching her. “The fact is I want you to do something, to tell me what I want to know.” He stared in her eyes, all but demanding she obey him. “Maybe this started as me wanting to know why you were so adamant on leaving, of wanting to be away from me when I am the only one that can protect you. But it doesn’t matter now, because what I want to hear is the truth, Marra. All of it.”

  Although he had never asked her to tell him one of the reasons she didn’t want to stay here with him, the fact still remained that she was scared of what was going on, had just been told her life may or may not be on the line, and he was asking her to tell him more than she felt comfortable saying. “I told you why I wanted to leave, because according to you my life is in danger.” She swallowed. “I don’t need any other rational explanation than that.”

  He made this low sound from his voice, and she felt the tightening of his fingers pressing into her cheek. “I know that already, Marra. I want to know the other reason you want to leave. It’s the honest and rational reaction, but I want to know the other reason. The one that is making your heart pound at this very moment, the one that makes your nipples hard, and that most likely has that sweet little pussy wet for me.”

  A gasp left her, but she didn’t know if it was one of outrage or arousal. “What does it matter, Joey? I want to leave because I could die if I stay in this fucking town. If you want to know why I want to leave it’s because I want to live.”