Braden: A Dark Mafia Romance by Adora York

Eight-Ballers.  Before that, I was a normal guy.  As normal as a human being can be when their compassion has been numbed by what they were forced to do for the government.  I was a soldier, so when war erupted in my streets, I reacted like a soldier.  I joined a new army and I picked up my gun—I went to war.”  He leveled his gaze at me.  “Then your father decided to take what was left of my world.”
    “My father?  My father didn’t do anything to you!”  I stared directly into his eyes, unwilling to buckle under his words.
    “Oh you don’t know anything, Angela.  You think I’m a bad person?  Your father knew the Mafia’s pull in prison was weak.  He signed an order pulling the protection on my father and sent him into the lion’s den!”  He turned away.  “He left my father to die.”
    “What?”  I blinked a couple of times.  “My father would never intentionally do that…”
    “Wouldn’t he?  He declared war on the Mafia when he got elected.  He promised to end the organization, and what better way to do it than to lock us up one by one and let the Eight-Ballers do his dirty work?”  Braden stared forward with his hands on his hips.
    “So you decided to punish my father by fucking me and killing me?”  I walked over and stood in front of him, refusing to let him look away.  I wanted to see it in his eyes.
    “He needs—needed to know that his actions had consequences.  He needed to feel the pain he inflicted on others.”  Braden’s anger seemed to be shifting towards remorse.
    “Then why didn’t you do it?  Why did you let me live and then come back for more?  Why did you work so hard to keep me alive today?”  I didn’t care about his remorse; my anger was still an open wound.
    “Because I felt something with you…”  He took a deep breath and then sighed.  “Something I haven’t felt since Mary died.”
    Even before his eyes lowered, I finally saw a glimpse of the humanity that had been lacking in his stare since the first moment I met him.  Underneath the soldier, the killer, and the man loyal to his cause was something more.  The wounds on his body were not has deep was the wounds inflicted on his soul.  As much hate as I had built up inside of me, I couldn’t deny that I had felt something as well.  No man had ever made me feel so alive, so conflicted, and so angry.  I moved closer to him and forced a kiss on his lips.  He pushed me off and shook his head, but I refused to give up.  I had to feel his touch and see if it was still there after everything that had happened since the moment I met him.  I grabbed him by the back of his shoulder where the bullet had torn his flesh and kissed him again.  He recoiled for a moment and then he grabbed me by the back of the head and brought his lips to mine; he kissed me with that same hunger I had tasted before.  I pushed him back towards the car and started tearing his shirt away as his breath got heavier against my lips.
    “We don’t have time for this.”  He said, but his lips and his eyes said he didn’t want to stop.
    “Then we better be quick.”  My words were all the invitation he needed.  My t-shirt was peeled away and his arms wrapped around me.
    His hands slid down my back and into my pants, sliding them down without my effort.  I stepped out of them and he lifted me up, spinning me around and placing me on the hood of the car.  I wrapped my legs around his waist, grinding my pelvis into him.  I wanted him so bad, even though I knew it was not the emotion I should have been feeling at that moment.  My desires overcame my logic and I unbuckled his belt, using the ends to pull him closer.  His lips drifted down my neck as he moved up and unfastened my bra.  The chill of December, even if it was a mild one, caused my nipples to get hard as they were pressed against his flesh.  His hands moved down to his pants and they fell to the ground.  He slid me closer so that I was slightly