Page 45 of One Kiss Isn't Enough
PRETEND YOU LOVE ME
W Winters and Amelia Wilde
All I have to do is pretend. When the lights go out and the chill of the cell creeps in, I know I must go along with everything he says.
His sharp gaze fades into the darkness, and nothing else matters but surviving this moment.
I’ll do all he asks. I’ll obey every command and submit on my knees. There’s not an ounce of me that’s willing to risk losing more than I already have.
All he desired was revenge, and now all he desires is me.
PROLOGUE
The front door creaks open ever so slowly and softly. The faint sound is immediately drowned out by the loud music, the laughter and the clink of chips falling onto the poker table in the back room. The space is filled with cigar smoke and brutal men whose faces hold genuine smiles as they gamble with stolen money. A half dozen of them are tucked away in the back of the modern home.
Seven men filter in through the front, dressed all in black, with leather gloves but no masks.
In that very front room there’s a crib and next to it a lullaby sound machine on the fireplace mantel, meant to lull the infant into a sweet dream. Chubby little hands wrap around a rattle as wide eyes watch but can’t see that far as the men take careful steps through the hall.
The floor groans in protest, but just like the front door, it’s unheard. Not a single one of them expected anything more than drinking and betting during their monthly poker game.
The song’s soothing refrain is punctuated by the staccato bang of guns cutting through the night. Feminine steps race down the stairs at the front of the home, rushing with the silent terror of a mother. Her screams are joined by shouting. Chaos only lasts a moment, one blur, one execution carried out seamlessly and planned for years.
The lullaby never stops as one of the assailants grabs the woman by her waist. The baby can’t see how she struggles in the unknown man’s arms to reach her child. She pleads and prays but can’t do anything other than thrash in the arms of someone more prepared, and far stronger than she.
The sweet melody is at such odds with the silence that follows a bullet pinging on the tiled floor. Bodies lie around the poker table, blood seeping into the sides of tailored suits and what were once crisp white button-downs.
It’s quiet, all but the cadence of a lullaby the infant has heard since before he was born. Footsteps aren’t so careful anymore as the music suddenly halts and the men filter out. The woman is carried away, all the while fighting for her child.
One man approaches the crib, and two rough, callused hands wrap around the top railing. A bundled baby, wrapped tightly yet those little arms somehow escaped, looks up at dark eyes.
A gruff voice whispers something to the man who stares down at the child, and he only gives a nod in response.He’s murdered more men than he’s shaken hands with.
The man carefully picks up the child, bringing the one-month-old to his chest. “Hush now, little one.”
* * *
Madelyn
My breathing hardly comes in as another scream tears through my throat. Tears prick my eyes, burning them as I slam my fists against the trunk.
I’ve been taken, I’m trapped and nothing is in my control anymore. A terror that threatens to consume me takes over.
“My baby!” I cry out again, pleading with men who ignore me. “Please!” I beg them.
They won’t listen, though. Even as panic tenses all my body, and adrenaline pounds through my veins, I’m all too aware they won’t listen to me.
I know what he wants. My racing heart slows.
A chill settles through me as I hear a knock on the steel roof above me. “You be quiet now, you don’t want to wake the baby,” a man says, his voice carrying through the metal enclosure of the trunk.
“Please,” I whisper so lowly, I’m not certain a soul could hear.
The command comes out final yet tinged with sympathy, although I may be wrong. Perhaps I only imagine a semblance of mercy. “You listen to me, and everything will be all right.”
Connor
Two days ago