Falling for the Killer: A Dark Possessive Mafia Romance, B.B Hamel [good story books to read .TXT] 📗

3

Ash

Showing up at Gian’s house was obviously the most insane thing I could possibly do, but when I saw those little blue lines, I knew I had to talk to him.

The father of my child.

My parents were going to murder me. I think they were literally going to murder me for being pregnant, especially pregnant by a guy like Gian. To them, men like Gian were the help and nothing more than servants and people that did hard manual labor for them. Getting pregnant by a gangster, by a guy that looked like Gian, that was about the worst thing I could possibly ever do.

They were going to hate me.

And Stuart. God, Stuart. I didn’t really care what he thought of me, but he was going to be livid. I was afraid of what he’d do to me and my family once he learned that his precious little virginal Ash wasn’t as pure as he’d hoped.

Fuck him. Fuck them all.

I woke up with light streaming in through the window. I felt groggy and heavy, like I’d been crying all night. The pillow was stained with tears and eye makeup and I sat at the foot of the bed staring at the floor. The room was strange, empty and quiet, and I felt like I was in a whole different world. I remembered the way Gian touched my back, his soothing voice, his earnest stare.

I wondered what he was doing with me here. A man like him couldn’t possibly want anything to do with a baby.

He hadn’t come out and told me in so many words that he didn’t want me around. In fact, it felt like he didn’t want me to leave, but that couldn’t be right. He was a mobster, and a baby wasn’t going to make his life any easier, and yet when he looked at me last night, it was like he saw me for the first time, like he really wanted to reach past all the layers of our lives and see the real me lurking down below my past and my future.

I got out of bed, still wearing the clothes I had on the night before. The door locked like he promised, but I still didn’t trust him enough to strip down and sleep without my pants on or something. I slipped out into the hall and padded softly down the steps.

He on the couch drinking coffee. ESPN was on the TV though the sound was on mute. He had a laptop open and he was looking at something, and I paused in the hallway, staring with my mouth hanging slightly open. I started chewing on my thumb, which was a habit my mother literally beat out of me when I was a little girl, something I hadn’t done in forever.

He was shirtless, and his muscular torso practically glistened in the morning light. I realized he’d been working out—free weights were stacked on the floor beside the couch. Light came in through the front and I hovered there on the verge of saying something when he looked up and smiled.

His handsome face lit up and it felt like my breath was sucked from my throat. I couldn’t remember a time when anyone looked at me like that, like he was happy to see me, and wasn’t thinking about what he could get from me.

That was my life. Everyone I ever met thought about what they could use me for. My parents were constantly worrying about putting me into a good marriage, and my friends all wanted a bit of my family connections and money, and even my older brother saw me as a pawn in some game.

Gian didn’t look at me like that. He only nodded toward the kitchen. “Coffee’s in there,” he said. “Help yourself. I can make you something to eat if you want.”

“No, thanks,” I said, and quickly got myself a mug. It was hot and good, and I lingered near the table, watching him as he shut the laptop lid and leaned back on the couch.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked.

“Surprisingly good,” I said. “I thought I’d be up all night but I guess I was exhausted.”

He nodded as if to himself. “Stress can do that.”

“I guess I should thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, grinning a bit. “For not breaking down your door?”

“Well, yes, that too,” I said, blushing a little.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Although I think you would’ve liked it.”

I let out a huff and rolled my eyes. This man was such an asshole, and yet I liked his confidence. It wasn’t the kind of arrogance that came with money and years of training, but more like something natural, something earned. It was the easy, carefree attitude of a man that was very much at home in himself, and happy with what he was and what he could do.

The men in my life weren’t like that at all. Stuart was as far from that as possible. Stuart spent every waking moment comparing himself to everyone else around him and wondering if he was as good as them. He thought about money as a status symbol, and was obsessed with accumulating as much as possible. My father was like that, my mother and brother and friends. It was all obsessing and worrying and status-seeking.

Not Gian though. He seemed utterly self-possessed, and it was refreshing.

“I just mean, thanks for letting me stay,” I said. “I think I needed it. A little time away from my family.”

He nodded at the table. “Sit down,” he said.

I listened for some reason. He got up and joined me, sitting across the table. I felt like we were at some kind of business meeting, or maybe a job interview. He leaned toward me, muscular arms bulging, which wasn’t very professional at all but at least I didn’t mind the view.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I genuinely don’t know,” I said. “I