Fallen Angel, Part 4 - A Mafia Romance: Fallen Angel Series Read online

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Letter From Brooke

  About the Author

  Marked by Rebecca Sherwin

  Chapter One

  Copyright

  Copyright 2015 © Tracie Podger

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents, either, are products of the author’s imagination or they are used factiously. Any reference to actual locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, or by any electronic, or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, to include, by not exclusive to audio or visual recordings of any description without permission from the copyright owner.

  Acknowledgements

  I could never have written the Fallen Angel series without the support of my family. My husband has been my rock, without him, I wouldn’t be here.

  My heartfelt thanks to the best beta readers a girl could want, Karen Shenton, Alison Parkins, and Yvi Meibner - your input is invaluable.

  Thank you to Margreet Asslebergs of Rebel Edit & Design for yet another wonderful cover.

  I’d also like to give a huge thank you to my editor - Megan Gunter with Indie Solutions by Murphy Rae. Please check out their web site - www.murphyrae.net

  A big hug goes to the ladies in my team. These ladies give up their time to support and promote my books. Alison ‘Awesome’ Parkins, Karen Shenton, Karen Atkinson-Lingham, Marina Marinova, Lilian Flesher, Ann Batty, Fran Brisland, Jennifer Teasley, Elaine Turner, Kerry-Ann Bell and Louise White – otherwise known as the Twisted Angels.

  To all the wonderful bloggers that have been involved in promoting my books and joining tours, thank you, and I appreciate your support. There are too many to name individually – you know who you are.

  To my research guru who shall remain nameless – thank you for your advice, for listening to my plot ideas and guiding me with procedures.

  I am fortunate to have made many friends in the book world, some wonderful authors that I’ve met on my journey and I now class as close friends, book besties if you will. Rebecca Sherwin, Ava Manello and K L Shandwick – you ladies rock, big time! Your support and encouragement, your willingness to share ideas and just talk ‘books’ is precious to me, thank you. I urge you to check out these ladies – they write some amazing books.

  If you wish to keep up to date with information on this series and future releases - and have the chance to enter monthly competitions, feel free to sign up for my newsletter. You can find the details on my web site:

  www.TraciePodger.com

  Life is not about the destination but the journey.

  Chapter One

  It was in a small room in a hotel in Washington, DC that my life changed forever—again.

  ****

  My son, Gerry, had hit his nose causing a river of blood to run down his chin and onto his dress shirt. Sam and I had taken him from the party to clean him up when all hell broke loose.

  As we crossed the reception of the hotel, I noticed a man—one of the many security detail Robert had installed to ensure his fortieth birthday party was not disturbed. He watched me leave the ballroom and just as I entered the restroom, I heard him speak.

  “Can I help you?”

  I hadn’t turned to look and see if he was addressing me—I was too focused on Gerry. I had enough time to grab a fistful of hand towels before it happened.

  Before an invisible force hit me like a tank and I was thrown forwards, landing heavily on my side. My ears rang, my vision was blurred and my heart raced in fear.

  What had just happened?

  A cloud of something grey swirled into the room. Was it dust or smoke? I wasn’t sure. My brain couldn’t compute what I saw, couldn’t comprehend what was going on. I heard screams, I heard shouts, but the ringing in my ears distorted the sound. The solid oak door to the bathroom hung from one bracket, a gap had formed but not wide enough for me to see through clearly.

  The sound in my head lessened, replaced by the shrill of a fire alarm. Splatters of water hit my face. The smoke, or dust, must have triggered the sprinkler system.

  I heard a moan and it was as if fingers had snapped in front of my face—my son was lying somewhere on that cold tiled floor.

  “Gerry?” I called out. Even to my ears, my voice sounded strained.

  Another moan came from the direction of a cubicle. I got to my knees. My body was shaking but adrenalin took over. I crawled to where I thought I heard the moan and pushed open the door. Gerry was lying on the floor and blood had congealed on his face.

  “Oh, God. Gerry, talk to me, baby,” I said, a sob caught in my throat.

  “Mom?”

  “Baby, are you okay?” It seemed a dumb question to ask bearing in mind the circumstance.

  “I think so. What happened?”

  “I don’t know. We need to move. Can you stand?”

  I stood and held out my hands to help him to his feet. He swayed a little as he rose.

  “We need to get out of here, okay? You need to do exactly what I say.”

  He nodded his head.

  “What’s happening?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know. We just need to get out of here and quick.”

  I didn’t want to scare him, I was terrified enough, but he needed to know we had to move fast. An old conversation ran through my mind, a conversation Robert and I had a few years ago. “If anything ever happened and you are on your own, you get to Ted.”

  “Get to Ted,” I repeated aloud.

  “Huh?” I heard Gerry say.

  “We need to get to Ted.”

  Placing my fingers to his lips to silence him, I listened. I heard groans and moans but nothing that sounded as if it was coming from close by. I pulled Gerry with me towards a window in the back wall.

  “We need to climb out,” I whispered.

  “Where’s dad?” Gerry asked.

  I swallowed down the sob that I had been holding in. I had no idea where Robert was or if he was hurt. I only knew that he had drilled this exact scenario into me over the past four years since we had adopted Gerry. He wanted to know that no matter what happened, I knew to get Gerry away.

  “He’s fine, darling. I need you to climb through that window. I’ll be right behind you.” I looked towards the window, knowing I’d never get Gerry up there without help.

  I looked around for a chair and noticed a shoe. A man’s shoe was lying on the floor under one of the sinks. Shit, Sam had been in the restroom with us. Where was he? The cloud, which I then realised was dust, made it hard to see, and it was as I pushed opened the cubicle door nearest to the window that I saw him. Sam was lying face down on the floor. I crouched down and shook him, but he made no sound.

  “Sam?” I whispered. “Sam, wake up.”

  There was no response, and my hands sta
rted to shake uncontrollably. I shook him again, harder. I bunched his shirt in my hands and rolled him over. His eyes were open, and for a moment, I just stared at him. Then he blinked.

  “What the fuck...?” he said.

  I let out the breath I hadn’t realised I had been holding.

  “We need to get out of here and now. Can you move?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Try. Now. I need your help, Sam.”

  Sam slowly sat and shook his head. He closed his eyes momentarily. I stood and as I did, I pulled at his arm, encouraging him to stand. He stumbled a little but eventually stood.

  It seemed as if we had been in that restroom for ages but it could have only been a minute or two. The noise of wood scraping across the floor made me spin around—someone had entered the restroom. Leaving Sam, I rushed to Gerry’s side and heard my name being called.

  “Brooke?” It was Robert.

  “We’re here. We’re okay. What happened?”

  “I need to get you out of here,” he said as he ran towards us.

  The tone of his voice was one of panic and anger; it was almost a growl. His face was hard, cold.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Not now. You need to get out. You know what to do?”

  I nodded as Sam joined us.

  “Sam, I need to get Brooke and Gerry out of here, through that window. Can you walk okay? Do you have your car keys?”

  “Why can’t we go out the door? And yes I have car keys,” Sam asked, his voice shaking.

  “We just can’t. Help me get them out of here.”

  Robert moved to the restroom window. It was locked but using his elbow, he smashed the glass. He removed his jacket and it was only then that I noticed the torn clothing, the black smudges over the front of his shirt and blood. Spots of red in an arc were stained across the front of his white dress shirt. Robert noticed that I had seen and very subtly shook his head, his sign for “don’t ask”.

  It was then that I realised what I had heard, the blast that had me pushed to the floor, it was an explosion. But was it an accident?

  I was desperate to ask questions until I saw Robert’s eyes move to Gerry. He wouldn’t want to answer anything in front of him.

  “Sam, come and help,” Robert said. It was obvious he was trying to control the level of anger, or maybe it was anxiety, in his voice.

  Between them, they pulled the shards of glass from the smashed window until there was nothing left bar a few splinters in the bottom of the frame. Robert laid his jacket over that and instructed Sam to climb through.

  “Why are we not going through the door?” Sam asked.

  “We can’t. Now get out the fucking window so I can pass you Gerry.”

  Robert’s patience was wearing thin.

  “Sam, please, just do as Robert asks,” I said.

  With that, Sam climbed through and waited outside. The window led to a service alley that ran alongside the rear of the building.

  “Okay, pass him through,” Sam called out.

  Robert crouched in front of Gerry. “Buddy, I’m going to lift you through the window. Sam is on the other side. Don’t be scared now, you hear? I need you to look after your mom for me. Can you do that?”

  Gerry nodded his head as he was lifted and practically thrown through the window.

  “Do not go home, Brooke, you understand me?” His eyes were black, his features rigid and the anger was beginning to radiate from him now that his son was safely out of sight.

  “Okay, what happened? You know, don’t you?” I asked.

  “Someone blew up my fucking hotel, Brooke. With my fucking family in it.”

  I was rooted to the spot. “Someone blew up the hotel?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I just said. Some prick blew up my hotel. If you go home, so help me, Brooke, I’ll go fucking mad. Go to Ted.”

  “I’m scared.”

  He closed his eyes and pulled me briefly into his arms.

  “I’m sorry, baby. People are hurt, badly.”

  The sound of sirens was getting louder, the sounds of crying and shouting getting more distant. I could hear feet running and the cloud of dust was starting to clear. Robert took my head in his hands and bent his face close to mine.

  “Don’t look. Just get out the window and get to Ted.”

  Don’t look. As soon as those words were spoken, it was as if I had a compulsion to do just that. I glanced as far as I could while Robert held my head, and I saw bodies. Well, I say bodies, but what I saw was a bloody mess.

  Another man entered the restroom, one of the security team that Robert had installed. I watched as Robert beckoned him over, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shoved him against the wall. I was rooted to the spot when I saw my husband pull a gun from the waistband of his trousers and hold the barrel to the man’s forehead. I couldn’t take my eyes off the spot where the muzzle pressed against skin, a white circle formed from the pressure.

  “If so much as a hair on my wife or son’s head is disturbed, I will post your wife and your son back to you—piece by piece.”

  “Of course, Mr. Stone,” the guy replied with a shake to his voice.

  I gasped, my hand covering my mouth. I didn’t recognise the man in front of me. My husband had been replaced by the version I never saw—Robert Stone at work.

  “Robert, please,” I whispered as I touched his arm.

  “Get out now, and I mean it, head straight to Ted. I’ll get to you as soon as I can,” he replied as he released the security guy from his grip.

  I nodded as Robert held my hips to lift me to the window. Before I dropped to the other side, I looked at him.

  “Who’s hurt? Is Harley okay? Evelyn?”

  “They’re fine. Now just go. Travis already got Harley out. I need to know you’re safe. Gary is out there waiting for you. Don’t leave his side.”

  As I looked to the end of the alley, I saw Gary run towards us. I dropped down to my feet and grabbed Gerry’s hand. The security guy, who nodded at Gary, dropped down shortly after.

  “Keys, Sam. And where’s your car?” Gary said as he came to a halt.

  “Hold on. I’m not going with you. I need to see if Scott is okay.”

  “Scott is fine. He knows you’re with Brooke and me. We need to go.”

  “What’s the rush? Shouldn’t we find out what happened?”

  “No, we need to go, and now,” Gary replied.

  “Sam, please, just give Gary your car keys,” I said.

  “Mom?” I could feel Gerry’s hand shaking in mine.

  “It’s okay, darling. Dad just needs to know we are safe. It was an accident in the kitchen I think.”

  The whole exchange could have only taken seconds, but I could see that Gary was getting anxious. The sirens were loud, blue and red lights were starting to illuminate the alley as the police and ambulances arrived. I looked to where they had parked and noticed a small crowd of people. One broke away and walked towards us. Sam started to head towards him until Gary grabbed his arm.

  “Car, now,” he said. The tone of his voice prompted no argument.

  Sam and Gary looked at each other. They had become friends over the past year, but Sam was not part of my world. I had been living a secret since the day I found out who Robert really was.

  Footsteps began to echo down the alley. Gary took hold of my arm, dragging Gerry and me in the opposite direction. It took a few seconds for Sam to follow.

  “Are we running away?” Gerry asked.

  “No, we just need to get going,” I replied. It broke my heart to hear the shake of his voice, to know my son was scared. I squeezed his hand tightly to reassure him some.

  Sam looked at me and I think the realisation that something was very wrong had hit then. He looked once or twice over his shoulder to see if the footsteps we’d heard were any closer, and as we rounded the corner and out of sight, we ran.

  “This way,” Sam said overtaking us. He threw
the keys to Gary as we closed in on his car but not before unlocking the car with the fob.

  Gary had the rear doors open as we approached. I pushed Gerry across the back seats and climbed in after him. The security guy followed.

  “My name’s Dan, Mrs. Stone,” he said. I simply nodded.

  Sam had only just managed to get in the front seat before Gary had the car speeding away and I looked through the rear window. I watched as a man dressed in dark jeans and a hoodie rounded the corner of the alley and came to a stop. It was hard to properly make out his face in the dim light, but there was something familiar about him.

  ****

  For a while, we drove in silence. Every now and again Sam would turn to me as if to speak. I imagined he had a million questions rushing through his mind. Each time I shook my head and averted my eyes to Gerry who was lying across my lap. For the first time ever, Sam got my subtle communication. I didn’t want to speak in front of Gerry; he was scared enough. He had hardly spoken since we left the hotel and I worried. He was one to internalise when he was scared, to not speak out.

  We headed towards Arlington, and it was only as we crossed the bridge that I started to breathe normally. I had alternated between holding my breath and panting, trying to keep up with my rapid heartbeat. Gary took a mobile phone from his jacket pocket, and with one eye on the road and one on the phone, he sent a text message. I guessed that message was to Ted because the gates to the home were already open as we approached. Ted was pacing with a shotgun slung over his shoulder and a giggle escaped my lips, not that there was anything funny about our situation. He looked like a sentry, someone on guard.

  “What the…?” Sam had started to say. I shushed him.

  Without stopping we drove straight to the front door to be met by Michael, one of the older lads at the home. Michael was beyond the age the boys normally stayed, but Robert had thought he might do well helping Ted who wasn’t getting any younger.

  Ted had followed the car and as we exited, he handed the shotgun to Michael without a word. Michael made his way back down the drive.

  “What the…?” Sam said again, watching Michael walk away.

  “Hey, Gerry, how you doing?” Ted said cutting off the rest of Sam’s sentence.