A/N: Have I written something similar to this before? Yes. Will I write another version of this at some point? Also yes. I donât know why I love this concept so much, I just do. This isnât very angsty but if youâre in the mood to feel all of the feels check out my other short -Â Over.
Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five | Part six | Part seven
2,184 WordsÂ
Fingers reaching for the handle you hesitated. For what felt like the thousandth time that afternoon you questioned your decision. Grip tightening on the take-out bag you reminded yourself this was all it was; you were dropping off lunch. It had nothing to do with his vagueness and evasion when it came to asking about what he did for a living. You werenât a prying person, you accepted there were things in his life that were off limits, as there was with you. So much so that when he'd started leaving your bed in the middle of the night âto workâ youâd let it go, your trust in him outweighing any niggling doubts. But now he'd missed your weekly lunch date and you couldnât help the uneasy feeling growing in your gut.
With a deep breath you shook the tension from your shoulders and shoved your doubts to a dark recess of your mind. Entering the foyer you were immediately sized up by the receptionist. Perched behind a gleaming white desk dressed in an outfit that wouldnât be out of place in a magazine her cool stare had you feeling like you'd been sent to the principals office.
âCan I help you?â Lightly veiled disdain coloured her words. Forcing yourself to maintain eye contact you moved to stand before her.
âI'm here to see Tom.â One slim eyebrow raised. âI mean, Mr Holland," you quickly corrected.
âHe isn't available at the moment. Would you like me to take a message?â The way she appraised you made it abundantly clear he'd never know you'd been there.
âIs he in a meeting?â
âI'm not at liberty to discuss Mr Hollandâs agenda.â
âIs he here?â You press watching her perfectly lined lips purse slightly.
âAs I said, I'm not at liberty to-"
âDiscuss his agenda. I get it.â You held back a sigh and glanced around the small entryway. There were two corridors leading off from it, both lined with closed office doors. You'd never get the chance to check them all before the receptionist called security. If she hadnât already.
Setting the food and your bag on the edge of the desk you rummaged to find your phone.
âYou canât leave that there.â She eyed you like you were the bag of fast food oozing oil.
âI'll move it as soon as I find out where he is.â
âI can't-" she started but you wave your phone at her.
âI don't need you to tell me, I can call him.â
Her eyes suddenly darted past you, colour visibly draining even under her layer of makeup. You followed her gaze to the end of the corridor.
âSo he is here,â you stated. Picking up your bags you started in the direction of what you hoped was his office and not a boardroom.
âI canât let you go in there. He's not to be disturbed for any reason!â The hurried click of her shoes followed you along the corridor.
Stopping abruptly you spun to face her. The question you'd been shoving back wormed its way to the forefront of your mind and you knew you wouldnât be able to shake it unless you asked. You had to be prepared for what was behind that door.
âIs he alone?â Her expression was blank for a long second before her gaze turned pitying. She opened her mouth to say something but your feet were already back on course, your strides quick until you reached the door.
Throwing it open you froze.
Your eyes didnât know where to land as your brain tried to piece together what you were seeing. The room was dim, the curtains drawn. A plastic sheet lined the floor in front of a large walnut desk. A figure was tied to a chair their torn shirt dotted with dark blotches. Blood, you realised, catching a glimpse of their battered face. The metallic tang was suddenly all you could smell. Holding back the rising bile you followed their defeated gaze to the gun pointed unwaveringly at their head. The watch youâd bought gleamed back at you from the holders wrist. Hands starting to tremble you dropped the lunch bag. Your throat tightened, panic setting in. You refused to look any higher. You didnât want to see his face. You didnât want it to be real.
âI told you I didnât want to be disturbed, Lucy.â The dangerously cold tone of his voice chilled you. Youâd never heard him speak to anyone like that. A hand gripped your arm and you jolted. The receptionist held onto you, eyes downcast.
Firmly starting to drag you back into the hall she apologised, voice wavering slightly. âIâm so sorry, Sir. I couldnât stop her. It wonât happen again, Sir.â
âStop wh-â he cut off and the gun lowered hesitantly.
âY/N?â You didnât look up. Couldnât. Blood pounded in your ears as your heart raced too fast in your chest. You were going to be sick. The gun was quickly tucked into the back of his trousers, hands raising slowly as he approached you. Shrinking back against the receptionist she stumbled. It gave you enough of a gap to get out of the room. Your flight instincts kicked into gear. You started running.
Racing down the corridor your shoes slid on the smooth tile as you rounded the corner. Pushing yourself forward you made it to the main office door and automatically went for the elevator. Too late your brain warned you against it.
Shoving between the doors you fumbled for the close button.
âY/N!â The closeness of his voice startled you. Your gaze shot up. Finding him only feet away you froze.
The distress on his face wasnât what youâd expected. It tugged at you and drew out an irrational need to go to him, to comfort him. He took his chance when you hesitated, running towards the elevator. The closer he got the more defined the blood coating his knuckles and splattered over his shirt became. It jolted you back to your senses. Fingers jamming at the buttons you prayed the doors would close in time. They started to slide together and your breath caught as hope raced through you. Then his hand appeared in the slim gap. The doors shuddered in protest as he forced his way in.
You panicked, eyes darting about the enclosed space. Backing as far away from the doors as you could you watched him shove against their weight. With his arms straining to keep them open you knew your only hope was to get past him. Eyeing the gap heâd created you made a break for it. He cried out in surprise as you hit against his side. His arms instantly dropped to grab you. You gritted your teeth, fighting against him but he managed to wrap his arms around your waist, lifting you effortlessly into the elevator. With your back against the wall he caught your wrists. You struggled in his hold. Â
âY/N,â he breathed, âstop.â You drove your knee up but he saw the move coming and pressed tightly against you. The move trapped your arms against his chest, legs pinned between his. With the dull thud of the doors closing you realised how stuck you were. The fight started to ebb from your body. Bone chilling fear rose up to replace it.
âPlease, let me go,â you begged in a whisper. âI wonât tell anyone, I promise.â
He flinched at your words. You watched confusion change to disbelief in his hazelnut depths.
âIâm not going to hurt you, Y/N.â Â His hand cupped your face, thumb brushing over your cheek in the comforting way youâd loved. Now you stiffened under his touch. You didnât want him anywhere near you. You wished youâd never came here. You wished youâd never met him. Heâd lied to you about everything you realised, heart sinking.
âYou,â your voice wavered as tears caught in your throat âyou lied to me.â
âI never-â he started, voice insistent but you cut him off.
âItâs all been a lie hasnât it. Everything youâve said to me.â
âNo! Iâve never lied to you. I swear.â
âAn omission is still a lie. Not telling me where you go at night, not telling me what it is you do. Now this...â
Your stomach started churning as you replayed what youâd walked in on. That wasnât the man you knew. Not the man heâd led you to believe he was anyway.
He took a step away, turning his back to you as he roughly carded a hand through his curls.
âI didnât-, I donât want you to be dragged into this. The thought of putting you in danger,â he paused, hands clenching. âI couldnât do it.â
âLook at me,â you whispered. You had to see his face. You had to gauge his reaction. He eventually faced you.
âWere you going to kill him?â
Heâd started shaking his head before youâd finished. âWhat I do is not who I am,â he insisted.
âThatâs not what I asked.â The steadiness of your voice was betrayed by your racing heart. Palms growing clammy you were already certain of the answer but you needed him to tell you the truth.
Shoulders tensing he nodded once.
The dam that had been holding back your tears finally gave in. Â
âPlease, Y/N. Iâll explain everything. Please.â He moved to touch you and you flinched away.
âLet me go. You said you werenât going to hurt me, or was that a lie too?â you challenged.
âI canât let you leave like this. Please, hear me out.â He stepped into you again, holding you against the wall. Hands winding into your hair he gently forced you to look up at him. You hated how even after what youâd found out your heart still betrayed you, beating harder under his touch, melting under the warmth of his hands.
âI swear, everything Iâve done has been to protect you,â he pleaded, desperate for you to understand.
âPlease, Y/N. I need you to give me a chance.â Forehead pressing against yours he closed his eyes. âI need you.â
âI canât-â
Your words were drowned out by his lips on yours insistent and firm. Fingers tightened in your hair, urging you closer he kissed you as if you were his lifeline. You tried to resist, hands scrambling to find purchase on his biceps to release his hold but the taste of him was too much. It dredged up every good memory of him, every night together, every kind action. You faltered as an ember of heat ignited. He took advantage, tongue sweeping out and coaxing entry into your mouth. His kisses became deeper, softer and when he bit your lip gently you found yourself whimpering. The heat spread, your skin on fire. The need to touch him took over any rational thought. You yanked at the bottom of his shirt, too impatient to open the buttons. He broke the kiss just long enough to tug it over his head. Hands going to your waist he shivered when you gently traced over his abs. Winding your arms around him you pressed closer, fingers tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck, the other exploring the hard planes of his back. Alternating between light scratches and feather light touches you worked your way down.
The hard length of metal tucked into his waistband had you freezing. What were you doing? Gripping the hilt you shoved Tom away. The gun felt foreign in your hands. Shaking, you pointed it at him. His eyes widened, hands shooting up to ward you off.
âYouâre a liar, and a killer, Tom. Youâre going to let me leave and youâre not going to follow me.â
He gulped, chest heaving as he tried to reign in his ragged breathing. âIâm not going to give up. You mean too much to me.â
Emotion swirled in you. A mixture of desperation and disgust at what youâd just done bubbled to the surface.
âYouâre not going to follow me!â you shouted. Motioning with the gun you forced him to move into the opposite corner as you edged towards the panel. Hitting the ground floor button you counted down the seconds as the elevator started to move. Your stomach plummeted, from the feeling of weightlessness as you descended and from the fact that if you had your way this would be the last time you ever saw Tom.
With a shudder the doors opened. You took him in. Messy curls falling over his forehead, strong jaw tense and eyes begging for forgiveness. You knew this moment would stay with you forever. Backing out of the door you hit the button for the top floor and at the last minute slid the gun into the elevator.
He made to get out but the doors beat him this time. There was a defiant slam as he hit against them.
âY/N!â he shouted. You mustered all of your strength and ignored him, stepping out of his office building and getting lost in the crowd.
Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, guns, murder, general mafia stuff
Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five | Part six
Part 7- 1733 words
Tom crept to the entrance of the warehouse with Harry close behind. Intel hadn't been able to tell them what to expect but he knew Montana usually worked with a crew of ten men. None of them would make it out alive. They'd agreed that in the car. A few feet away they could hear murmured voices from inside. With a silent signal Harry took up stance on the opposite side of the door. Hands firm on his gun Tom breathed deeply, pushing out all his fears on the exhale. You would be OK. He would keep you safe.
Meeting Harry's grim expression he nodded. Kicking the door in Harry rushed into the building. Tom followed, pausing only long enough to help take out the two men in the corner of the room. The internal door was closed but this time there was no hesitation. They'd already lost the element of surprise. Pushing through the door Tom narrowly ducked a fist. Using the momentum from his dodge he landed an uppercut that sent the man reeling. Harry shot him before he could recover.
Three down.
Shots suddenly rained down around them. Another man raced at Harry and Tom tackled him, rolling until he was using him as a shield. His body shuddered as bullets hit. Suddenly his whole weight was on Tom. Stray shots hit the light switch beside the door and the warehouse plunged into darkness. The top windows were all boarded up, and they were left with only the small sliver of light from under the door. Tom cursed under his breath. He'd barely got a look at the layout of the room.
As the body above him jerked from the blow of more bullets he worked out the trajectory of the attackers. One on the left, two on the right. He knew Harry wouldn't be far away. Just as he thought it a low whistle from the left wall sounded. The firing automatically moved to the new target and Tom pushed out from under his shield. He aimed left while circling right. The satisfying clatter of a dropped gun sounded, followed closely by a shriek as Harry managed to hit another one.
Sticking to the wall his eyes slowly started to adjust. He could see the outlines of the two men, one now on his knees. The second was skirting back, shots flailing around the room as he tried to find one of them. Noise covered by the rapid fire, Tom crept close enough to shoot him from behind.
Seven.
In the sudden silence he crouched low against the wall. His heart beat steadily despite the worry infiltrating his concentration. What if he didn't find you? What if he didn't get them all? With a sharp shake of his head he battled them back into the dark corner they'd crawled from. He was good at his job, he reminded himself, and right now his job was to find you. Scanning the room he found the other three has been spreading out, letting the others act as a distraction while they got into better positions. One covered the main door, the two others close by.
"Tom!" The urgency to Harry's voice had dread lacing into his adrenaline. He pinpointed him in the far corner. In the dim light he could see him shifting a body from a chair and laying them down on the ground. Tom was sprinting before he realised. The shots started up again, ricocheted around him as his heart stuttered in his chest. You were here. You were in reach. You weren't moving. He slid to a stop, dropping to his knees to cover your body protectively with his. Hands gripping your cheeks he barely breathed, a silent prayer chanting endlessly in his mind as he took in the sheen of sweat coating your skin.
Unable to hear your breathing he put his hand on your chest. A wet warm liquid spreading under his palm had him turn to ice. Shaking, he found his fingers coated with blood. His stomach dropped as he frantically tried to check your pulse. You were alive. You had to be. You were still warm. His fingers gripped your neck and after an agonising minute found the weak thrum of your heartbeat. He sagged for a second as he took a shuddered breath.
Harry had been returning gunfire and now paused to crouch behind the chair and reload. He signalled to a spot behind Tom and then saluted, determination radiating from him. A shout lodged in Tomâs throat as Harry suddenly turned and sprinted into the fray. This had been the plan he tried to remind himself as panic choked him. Harry could handle himself. Getting you out was the only thing that mattered.
Cradling you gently he checked over his shoulder to where Harry had indicated. Another door. Standing quickly he kicked it open, pausing only long enough to shove it closed behind him. The chaos of gunshots dampened into dull background noise as he moved through the small room and out another door at the back. He exited into what felt like a long hallway punctuated by green emergency lights. He followed them right, moving down the space as quickly as he dared in the dark. The exit came into view, the light above outlining the edge of the door, and relief flooded through him. Gathering you closer he picked up his pace.
A shot pierced the quiet hallway. Pain startled him as a bullet tore at his ear. He staggered, stumbling through the closest doorway. His grip tightened on you as he landed sharply on his shoulder with a hiss. Droplets of blood trickled down his jaw as rage filled him. Nothing was going to stop him getting you out of that door. Laying you in a safe spot he pulled out his gun.
Stepping into the hallway he fired a few rounds into the dark. A high pitched curse and a clatter followed. He kept his gun pointed towards the sound while he slipped out his phone and lit up the hallway with the torch.
Montana was kneeling on the ground, her injured right arm cradled against her chest, blood dripping onto her blouse. Her gun had fallen too far away for her to reach. She tried to shield her eyes as he stalked closer.
"We won't stop," she warned through gritted teeth, "you know we won't." Her words had his fury peaking. After everything he did for them, all the lines he'd had to cross, morals he'd had to skirt to protect them. A deadly calmness settled over him. They'd realise soon enough that you were the only thing that mattered to him now.
He raised the gun and shot her at point blank. There was no hesitation. No whisper of doubt as he'd taken in the split second of panic on her face. He regretted nothing. He knew he'd do anything to protect you and now he had.
Shoving his phone away he retraced his steps and lifted you back into his arms. Pushing out through the exit the sunlight had him ducking his head as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. His gaze caught on your face. The colour was leeching out of your skin, your lips turning blue. He scanned your body for any other wounds and the vibrant stain coating the bottom half of your shirt was suddenly all he could see. It looked almost fake. There was too much of it. Panic started to rise in his chest.
Harry yelled from the drivers seat of the SUV pulling him out of his spiral. As the rear door popped open Tom hurried over and climbed in with you. Slamming the door shut he grabbed the first aid kit as the car tailspun away from the warehouse and shot back onto the road.
Ripping your shirt open his stomach lurched as he took in the knife wound. Fumbling for some gauze pads he tried to stem the bleeding. Within seconds the fabric was soaked.
"Harry," he pleaded and the car shifted gear, the outside streaming past the windows. Stripping off his shirt he folded it roughly and used it to apply pressure.
His eyes met his brothers in the rear view mirror. The uncertainty radiating from them had Tom gripping you closer still. You would be OK. He knew harry would stop at nothing to get you to the hospital. You would be OK. With a shaky hand he brushed back the loose hair caught on your face. His thumb caressed your cheek softly in a gentle rhythm.
âIâve got you. Youâre safe. Iâm here.â His voice broke as he repeated those lines over and over, hoping for some indication you could hear him. Praying to every deity he could think of that youâd wake up. Droplets landed on you, washing away some of the blood heâd smeared onto your face. Tears he realised as more dropped steadily from his jaw. He needed you to wake up. He would do anything and everything to have you open your eyes right now. He couldnât, wouldn't, lose you. Not like this. Not with everything still unsaid between you. He needed a chance to tell you how much he didnât blame you for running. How much he would make every one of them pay for hurting you. And most importantly how much he loved you. Fuck, he loved you with everything he had. You not waking up wasnât an option. He didnât think heâd survive if you didnât.
Your skin was starting to cool down. He draped himself over you as close as he dared, praying his body heat would help. He could see your chest struggle to take in air. His free hand fisted in your hair, his forehead pressing against yours tightly as he a sob wracked him. You just needed to hold on a little longer.
"Please, don't leave me. Please."
The car stopped. So did your breathing.
Everything suddenly moved too fast for him to keep up. The back door to the SUV was yanked open. Hands pulled him away from you. You were moved onto a stretcher. An oxygen mask was put on. Someone took over holding your wound. They were rushing you away into the hospital. He tried to follow but he wasn't quick enough. The doors closed.
Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, kidnapping, torture, interrogations, angst
Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five
Part 6 â 1952 words
He sat quietly as Harry spoke to the bar owner, an untouched drink clenched between his fingers as he silently wished he would talk faster. The older man was slowly warming up. As much as a dive bar owner in the ass end of a small town would to outsiders.
âIâm actually passing through on the way to meet up with my girlfriend.â Harry shared a photo of you with a fond smile. There was no arguing that he knew how to charm someone. Working in distributions must be a constant performance to keep people on your side. A non committal noise from the bar keep as he slid the rag from over his shoulder and started wiping the closest glass.
Casting his eyes over the worn furniture and pictures of Georgiaâs greats lining the walls Tom struggled to see you here. He hated the thought that youâd be wasting your talents pouring beers for the regulars who were already slumping in their bar stools at 12pm on a Tuesday.
Trying to tune back into Harryâs conversation was pointless. He was already done being there, he wanted to get back on the road. Excusing himself to use the restroom he took his time washing up. The splash of cool water helped wake him up a little more after having the last driving shift but did nothing to make him look any better. Staring at his reflection he barely recognised himself. Water dripping from his too long curls caught in his short beard. Heâd never gone more than three days without shaving, now he didnât care. Slicking his hair back he blinked at the tired eyes looking back at him. He was a mess. Go figure. With a sigh he dried off and left the bathroom. He pulled up short as a waitress exited from a hall behind the bar, the double doors swinging in her wake. His eyes snagged on a white board filled with time slots. A rota for the bar, he realised. Pushing the door open for a better look he froze. His stomach simultaneously sank and soared as he read the name listed for the last three nights shifts. Y/N.
When he got back to the bar he gripped his Harryâs shoulder. A silent signal before saying, âwe should head out. Iâm sure thereâs a motel around here somewhere we can rest up.â
Harry looked expectantly at the barman who nodded and gave rough directions to one further down the road. Slipping a few bills over Harry stood but Tom had already taken off back to the car.
âI canât tell if you have good news or bad news,â Harry admitted as he joined him in the front seat.
âHer name was on the rota. Sheâs supposed to be here tonight. She has to be close.â He pulled the car out and headed towards the motel, a prayer on his lips that he was about to find you.
Harryâs phone dinged. From the corner of his eye he saw him swipe at the message and then freeze.
âTom, pull over.â Eyes darting to his brother the tone of his voice had his chest constricting. He turned into the motel parking lot and stopped across several spaces in his haste. His hands choked the steering wheel as he waited for Harry to speak.
âMontana has her.â The tremor of worry in his words was nothing compared to the full body shake that started in Tom. It couldnât be. They wouldnât send them for something this small, for someone this unimportant. What was he missing? Head resting on the wheel he tried to breathe but his chest kept constricting tighter. The people heâs spent years protecting had turned on him. Theyâd gone behind his back and taken you to be- he stopped himself. He didnât wanted to think about what he knew Montana would do to you. Black spots floated over his vision until Harryâs phone sounded again.
âI have an address. Its 20 minutes away.â His decision was made in seconds. A burning determination charged him. As soon as he got his hands on you heâd never let go again. Heâd keep you safe even if it meant burning everything in his life to the ground. Burning them to the ground.
But those were his choices, he wouldnât drag anyone else into this. He turned to Harry about to voice that and got a stern glare.
âDonât you dare get sappy on me. If you go, Iâm coming too.â As if to back up his statement he popped the glovebox and took out the gun hidden there. âI wonât let you lose her.â
With a shared look the weight shifted off his chest and he threw the car into gear.
Y/N POV
Your head swam as bright light pierced at your eyelids. You listened for the sound of your alarm but couldnât hear anything. Five more minutes you told yourself. Your body ached to stretch out and it wasnât until you shifted you realised you were sitting. Had you fallen asleep at work? The worry behind that thought helped you shift closer to awake but just as you thought youâd be able to open your eyes a wave of darkness pulled you back to sleep.
It was the sound of footsteps that finally helped you surface. Opening your eyes your mind sluggishly tried to put together the information they were seeing. A dirty concrete floor. A single bulb above you casting a small circle of light. Everything beyond that was swathed in darkness but you could sense eyes on you. You tried to shift your arms but found they were stuck. A sliver of panic raced up your spine as you tugged harder and felt the bite of plastic straps tightening around your wrists. The sudden adrenaline rush that followed triggered flashes of memories. Being grabbed in the motel room. The sharp sting of a needle in your arm. The rough carpet beneath your palms. They'd got you.
The icy press of metal against your back registered too slowly. You felt like you were underwater. Everything wavered at the edges as you struggled to suck in enough air.
âDonât worry. This wonât take long.â The tension lacing the air snapped with those words and reality flooded in. Your body froze up, muscles tensing painfully as it finally registered how much danger you were in. The barrel dug in slightly as he reached out to grip your shoulder. You were too shocked to even flinch as his rough fingers dug into your collar bone, holding you in place.
A lighter flickered in the shadows then the steady pace of footsteps echoed closer and closer until a shape took form outside the boundary of the light. Smoke fanned from them on a heavy exhale.
âTell me what you saw.â
You barely heard her words over the rapid beating in your ears.
âI donât-â You cut off as the grip on you tightened in warning.
âWhen?â you re-routed quickly.
âThe office.â There was no clarification needed for that. The scene was still burned into your memory even if the feeling surrounding it had dimmed, been resolved with your acceptance of Tom.
âHe was with someone. He had a gun to their head.â Your voice sounded off, mechanical as you relayed the information.
âDo you know who it was?â
You shook your head. âThere was too much...too much blood.â
âHmm.â She stepped forward, her hazy form snapping to full definition as the light hit. With a crisp navy pant suit and perfect hollywood curls she wasnât what youâd been expecting and a glimmer of hope fluttered in your chest. Maybe you could reason with her? Maybe you could- Your thoughts cut short as you saw the way she stared at you. Like you were a butterfly caught in a jar. A butterfly she would pull the wings from without hesitation. You tried to swallow but your throat had dried up.
She took a long inhale of her cigarette, the embers flaring before drifting to the ground.
âLetâs see if we can help you remember any more details.â
The restraint on your shoulder tightened. Before you could blink the cigarette was pushed against the base of your neck. Your shock numbed you for a blissful second before the sting had you sucking in a pained breath and jolting back against the gun barrel. Tied to the chair you had nowhere to go.
You forced yourself to hold still, fingernails digging into your palms, teeth biting the inside of your cheek to hold back your whimpers as she created a constellation of burns along your shoulder.
Eventually the cigarette snubbed out and she raised an eyebrow expectantly.
âI donât know who it was,â you managed to croak out. All the available moisture in your body seemed to have evaporated or joined the rivulets of sweat dripping down your back.
She sighed. âI thought youâd say that.â A switch blade clicked open in her hand and your heart stopped.
With a flick of her wrist the blade disappeared. You're gaze dropped in confusion to find the knife stuck between your ribs. As soon as your brain registered the injury pain blazed like wildfire through your chest. Your breath caught in your throat. Then she pulled the knife out. Searing agony filled every nerve ending as more damage was done. There was a rasping sound. It was you trying to breathe.
Warmth spread out over your side and soaked into your clothes. The metallic tang was all you could smell. You knew, without even needing to look, that there was too much. That there was nothing you could do.
She crouched until she was eye level with you. âNow is the time to tell me anything youâre holding back. If you do know something Iâm sure we can come to an arrangement.â You looked at the dull disinterest in her eyes. Even if you had known something there was nothing about the way she spoke to you that gave you any hope of making it out of there. With startling contrast you realised that this was what a true killer looked like. How you had ever thought Tom could be cold and heartless like this was unforgivable. Bile rose in your throat as you thought again about how much you must have hurt him. Grimacing through the pain you knew there was only one thing you wanted to waste your breath saying to the monster before you.
âI hope he finds you.â For a fraction of a second you swore she froze, then her eyes narrowed.
Scrunching your eyes shut to block her out you pictured Tom. You'd memorised his face that night. His warm brown eyes that flared with hope when you told him you needed time. The conviction to his words when he told you nothing would change how he felt about you. That heâd be there when you needed him. Your heart clenched in despair. How had you been so stupid? How had you ever thought that running away would make things easier? You wished you'd kissed him. Brushed his curls away from his face and told him you loved him like you had a million times before. Now youâd never see him again. Never get the chance to apologise. He'd never know how much you regretted leaving him. Tears spilled over onto your cheeks.
"Ugh," the sound of disgust brought you back to the present. "I don't have time for this. Deal with her." You tried to cling to the vision of Tom behind your eyes. A shuffle of movement behind you had you freezing. Then pain exploded at your temple. Everything went dark.
Warnings: no warnings for this part, just general angst and mafia stuff
A/N: Takes me approximately a decade to find time to write each part but it's done! I am determined to finish this series, part 6 will be up soon.
Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four
Part 5 â 1787 words
âWill I put you down for another night?â The owner looked at you expectantly. You hesitated, damp cloth pausing on the bar. You could really use the cash, but this was day three in...you'd already forgotten exactly where you were. Every town youâd stopped in had started to blend together into a collage of bland motel rooms and gritty dive bars. As far as they went this one had been the nicest. Which only made you hesitate all the more. The next town could be worse, less trusting to give a stranger a job. You nodded before you could talk yourself out of it.
âJust the one,â you agreed. He looked at you like heâd heard that line a hundred times before but said nothing as he wrote your name on the rota. You finished your clean down of the bar and slung your apron on the peg noting the time. It was after 1am. The motel you were staying at was a few blocks away. In any other situation youâd call a cab but after the shift youâd had you wanted the cool air to chase away the lingering stench of smoke and cheap beer.
Shoving out into the night you were disappointed to find the heat of the day hadnât let up much. Pulling at your shirt you tried to create a draft and chase away the sweat peppering your skin. You werenât made for Georgia weather. You tried to remind yourself that this was only temporary, that you'd be out of here soon. You just needed to keep working your way north, to find a way across the border. Then, after that, you didn't know what you would do.
You felt like you had been running for months not weeks and it was starting to take a toll. Your body ached from all the long shifts doing whatever job you could convince someone to let you do. Your mind was exhausted from the paranoia that had crept in steadily even as you got further away from Miami. Little things that would normally be insignificant sent your mind racing. People standing at the corner of streets. Men in suits watching a little too closely when you handed them their drinks. Cars pulling into the parking lot of your motel in the middle of the night. Youâd watched too many movies for your mind to overlook anything. The fear that you were right, and not simply on the verge of a breakdown, pushed you to drop everything and move on constantly.
Then there were the times when you thought you saw him. A flash of curls, the glint of his watch, a faint hint of his aftershave. The rush of worry and anxiety that had plagued you since you landed had eventually ebbed. Constant time alone staring at the flaking ceilings in numerous motel rooms had given you plenty of time to think over everything. To take a step back and process exactly what had happened. Now when you thought you caught sight of him there was anticipation, and something you hadnât expecting to ever feel again in relation to Tom. Hope.
You wanted to see him. More than anything. You had no doubt that heâd hold his promise to give you time and space, but how could you go back now? Heâd shown you how much he cared, offered you everything you could need to process the truth, and this was how you repaid him? Taking off without a word. Essentially hitch-hiking across the other side of the continent because you hadnât trusted him. After almost a month hiding from him you couldnât see any way heâd take you back.
Tears prickled your eyes and you swiped them away wearily as you reached the motel parking lot. Crossing to your room you unlocked the door and went to throw your bag on the bed when a shadow twitched. Fingers already poised on the light switch you hesitated. You held your breath, ears straining to catch the sound of movement, of anything out of place. All you could hear was the solid pound of your heart as your blood rushed, pushed by a spike of adrenaline. When nothing else moved you braved turning on the light. Your eyes narrowed as they adjusted to the yellow glow of the wall lamps revealing an empty room. With a shaky exhale you dropped your bag and closed the door. A self-deprecating laugh started to bubble up as you closed the curtains only to catch in your throat as a deep voice sounded from the bathroom door.
âHello, Y/N.â
Tomâs POV
He ran his fingers through his hair to hide their shaking. Either the lack of sleep or double espresso heâd had was catching up to him but heâd be damned if he let his brother see that. Harry drove the SUV seemingly at ease. Only, Tom knew that his fingers drumming the steering wheel off beat to the radio meant he was at the end of his reserves too. They needed to stop. They needed to rest. The thought had his insides squirming. What if they stopped and they missed you? What if you hopped on another bus? What if- he cut off the thoughts and focused back onto the map.
Intel had been persuaded to share what theyâd really found out about your whereabouts. Tom didnât know how Harry had managed it but he wasnât going to look that gift horse in the mouth. Not when it had given him a detailed list of potential bus station sightings and other CCTV points since youâd landed in Miami. That was what they were following. The plan was to get to the end of the trail and try to get ahead of you. Work out where youâd head next, what town youâd be able to travel to either by bus or by hitch-hiking.
The thought that you would get in a car with a stranger, one who could do an endless list of things to you, had his fists clenching tight enough to break the pen he was holding. No. No matter how desperate you got you would keep yourself safe. You may be on the run but you were smart. He had to push back the reminder of why you were on the run before it started to claw at him again. He didnât think heâd ever forgive himself for this. For making you feel like you had to run from him. Like you had no choice. Like you didnât feel safe. The last one bit at him the hardest.
In a way youâd been right. Discovering Intel had already been set on you before youâd left was a massive red flag to him. He knew the head players had everyone checked, but youâd been together a year. A background check would have been done within the first few weeks, not now. Something else was happening. Something heâd missed while heâd been, as his brother had eloquently put it, âblowing off jobs to sit in a dark car all nightâ. His hands made to clench again and he deliberately dropped the pen, shoulders rolling as he tried to shake off another wave of frustration.
âWill you tell me what happened?â Harryâs voice crackled as he spoke for the first time in hours. Theyâd barely really spoken since his office. Over, Tom glanced at his watch, twelve hours ago. He blinked. It felt longer. Closer to a lifetime.
Tom stalled by neatly folding his notes and the map back into the glove box.
âYou donât have to tell me any parts you donât want to. Iâm just trying to work out why our men would want her.â
âI know. Iâm not trying to freeze you out. Itâs..â
âTough to think about.â Harry stated when he couldnât find the right words. He risked a look over and saw a flash of something on his brothers face that was quickly smothered.
âYeah.â Tom rubbed a hand over his face before focusing on the road ahead, trying to steel himself before diving into the memories heâd been avoiding.
âShe came to visit me at the office,â Tom started, voice strained as he chose his words carefully. âShe brought lunch. Lucy was under orders not to let anyone into my room. She managed to get past her and,â he hesitated. Not because his brother would judge him but because the look on your face haunted him.
âAnd you werenât alone.â Harry finished for him.
âI was interrogating someone.â
âIn your office?â His brother frowned.
âIt was a one-off. There wasnât time to move to a secure location.â
âBut still-â
Tom pushed on past his brotherâs concern. âWhen she saw she ran. It took days before she let me speak to her. I told her about us, about who we work for.â
âHow much did you tell her?â
âI gave her the condensed version,â Tom assured him. âNothing that would put her in danger.â
There was a long pause as Harry mulled over what heâd been told. âSo she ran because she found out what you do.â His brother didnât have to voice his apology, the sympathy radiating off him was enough.
âShe didnât say it but I knew what sheâd seen in at the office terrified her. She was scared of me.â
âHell, if Iâd walked in on what I imagine she did Iâd be scared shitless too. Iâve seen some nasty things in the field but you got your job for a reason, youâre good at it.â
âI know,â Tom grudgingly admitted, rubbing a hand over his forehead as the first twinges of a headache hit. âI didnât have any choice. The order came from Delaware.â
Harry barked a laugh of disbelief as he recognised the code name.
âAnd youâre wondering why Intel was put on her. Jesus, Tom. If Delaware wanted it handled urgently enough to throw security protocol out the window I can only imagine what the poor bugger did.â Harry slowed the car to pull over at the side of the road so he could turn to face Tom without distraction.
âTom. If he knows she was there, sheâs in bigger danger than just running from knowing who we are. She knows something thatâs connected to him.â
Dread wrapped itself around Tomâs torso like an embrace and squeezed until he started seeing stars. His brothers hand gripped his shoulder, grounding him.
âWeâre going to find her before they do. I promise.â He didnât let go until Tom managed to get control over his breathing. âNow, give me the map and get in the back. We take shifts from here. Iâll wake you when we hit the last known sighting.â
A/N: It's been a while since part 3, if anyone is tagged that doesn't want to be anymore let me know đ
Part one | Part two | Part three
1,851 words
The minute you'd landed at the airport the press of unfamiliar humid air had settled on your chest making it difficult to breathe. You'd expected to be filled with relief and have the tension of the last day melt away. You'd expected to feel free. Instead, the sudden feeling of loss was almost crippling as you stared out at the foreign streets. Not only had you lost the man you thought youâd spend the rest of your life with, youâd lost your life. Your friends, your family, your home. All gone in a matter of minutes.
You silently cursed him. For pursuing you, for being so attentive and caring, for making you fall so hard for him. For keeping secrets, for lying, for being a killer for hire and not thinking you deserved to know exactly who you were getting involved with. But most of all you cursed yourself. For being so blinded by him in every way that you didnât even suspect something was amiss until it was too late.
While the sun beat down relentlessly on the palms you stood at the exit doors with frustration swirling in your gut. What were you doing here? How had things gone so wrong so quickly? Tears prickled behind your eyes but you held them back. Now wasnât the time. You had to work out your next move before he realised you were gone, if he hadnât already. His warning about the mafia lingered above your head like a guillotine waiting to drop. Youâre a liability to them now. A chill swept through you despite the overbearing heat of the city.
If you were going to survive and stay hidden you had to become someone else. Someone untraceable.
Tom's POV
The early morning sun bathed the room in golden light. It spilled over her. Caressed the bare skin of her back as she slept peacefully. Shrouded her in a warm glow that made his breath catch. He wasnât sure if heâd ever get used to this. Waking up next to her always felt like a sneak peek of heaven. One he didnât deserve given he was definitely not on that guest list anymore. Not after everything heâd done. When he looked at her though, none of that mattered. Heâd redo his sins a hundred times over knowing their path would lead to her.
He brushed his fingertips down her spine unable to hold back from touching her any longer. She stirred slightly with a soft contented sigh. He pressed his lips to her shoulder. Her neck. Her jaw. Each kiss as gentle as possible. He didnât want to wake her but he couldnât help himself. A small smile tugged the corner of her mouth.
âIs this your subtle way of saying youâre ready for another round?â The husky sleep laced tone of her voice was like honey to his ears. Sweet and hard to resist. Speaking of hard...
âIt wasnât, but since you insist,â he moved to gently cover her back with his body, his evident interest in her idea pressed firmly against her. âIâm more than happy to oblige.â
A laugh that had his heart stuttering.
âIs that a no?â He asked softly, leaning in to graze her neck with his teeth. She wriggled back against him with a gasp.
âYouâre insatiableâ she muttered, faux exasperated. Rolling over she finally opened her eyes to gaze up at him. God, he could get lost in those eyes. The depth of them consumed him. The way they lit up around him with sparks of joy, admiration, lust. He wished he could be exactly how she saw him. Unstained and pure. He never wanted her to stop looking at him like she was at that very minute. He already knew he needed to tell her everything, preferably before he got in any deeper than he already was. He just had to find the right time. Her lips brushed against his, her hands trailing down his chest. Later, he resolved as he kissed her back languishing in the contentment that came with her touch. Heâd tell her later.
His brothers voice broke him from his reverie and he reluctantly returned his attention to the men filling the conference room.
âThereâs nothing new to report. The Miller incident was handled. I have men still tracking Newman.â His voice sounded flat even to his own ears. His brother cleared his throat uncomfortably before jumping in with information of his own.
Eyes drifting back to the reports in front of him, Tom stared at them unseeing. The confrontation in your apartment had left him hollow. Heâd been so sure you would see the situation the way he did, as a necessary part of his job and nothing more. Instead your reaction haunted him in the dark endless hours of the night.
That goddamned lunch date. Guilt wormed through him at what youâd walked in on. If he had paid attention to his phone more closely, or held off interrogating that creep for even ten more minutes you'd still be together. You were never supposed to see that side of him. What he did for a living was exactly that, it wasnât personal. His hands may not be the cleanest, heâd done things that made other men flinch at the mere thought, but heâd never brought that darkness anywhere near you. You were his safe haven. The tether that kept him grounded even on his worst days.
Staying away from you caused a deep ache in his chest but youâd asked for space and no matter how long it took heâd wait. That didn't mean he wouldnât keep checking up on you. Heâd spent most of his nights parked up outside your apartment staring at the darkened windows praying for a glimpse of you to keep him sane. He wasnât surprised you hadnât contacted him, though it hurt more than he could put into words. He meant everything heâd said to you. He would be by your side through everything and anything that happened. There was nothing that could make him love you any less than he did.
As the meeting wrapped up he fled the room before he could get pulled into any conversations. The peace of his office was all he wanted until it was late enough to leave and head to your apartment. The anticipation of almost seeing you was all that got him through the afternoons anymore.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he was half way to his desk before he realised he wasnât alone. He reflexively went for his gun.
âItâs me!â his brothers voice cracked in surprise as he rose from the leather armchair, hands up to ward him off. Tom froze, the weight of the gun in his hand burned as he realised what heâd been about to do.
âStop sneaking about like that, Harry!â he snapped. He quickly holstered his gun and fisted his hands to hide their slight tremble.
âMe? Get your head out of your arse. Youâre the one blowing off jobs, blowing off your family to sit in a dark car all night.â
Tom froze. His brother raised an eyebrow at him. âYou didnât honestly think no-one had noticed?â
Tom moved to sit at his desk. The seconds he had his back turned he tried to school his features. Had he really not noticed someone tailing him? Unsettled he shuffled his files, deliberately avoiding eye contact.
âI donât know what youâre talking about,â he eventually answered when he was sure he had a hold of his emotions.
âBullshit.â Harry stalked over to the desk and glared down at him with folded arms. âYou need to stop. I donât know what happened between the two of you but sheâs not coming back.â
Ice slipped into his veins freezing him in place as he slowly processed his brothers words.
âWhat did you just say?â Tomâs voice was barely above a whisper but the warning tone had Harry tensing.
âI know you donât want to hear it, but sheâs gone. Its time to get your shit together. Youâve been moping about for too long. People are starting to notice.â
Tomâs heart kicked hard against his ribs. His brother couldnât be saying what he thought he was. There was no way.
âWhat do you mean sheâs gone?â He was barely able to keep the slow rise of panic at bay as his mind raced. He hadnât told anyone what happened. Even if Harry assumed youâd broke up he'd be giving Tom the âget over it by getting under someoneâ speech, not saying what he was saying.
When Harry took too long to answer, Tom kicked his chair back and stalked over to him.
Harry straightened, surprise widening his eyes but he held his ground.
âWhat do you mean?â he half growled. His fingers itched to grab his brother by the shirt front and shake the answers out of him.
âHow long has it been since you saw her?â
âThree weeks,â Tom reluctantly shared. Three weeks, 2 days and 8 hours. In other words, too damn long.
Harry hesitated again and Tom almost swung for him. âTell me what the fuck is going on!â
âI honestly thought you knew, Tom,â Harry ruffled a hand through his hair uncomfortably. âSheâs been MIA since then. She hopped on a red eye and Intel says thereâs been no activity on her cards since she landed.â
Harry kept talking but the words were drowned out by the blood roaring in Tomâs ears. The edges of his vision wavered for a long second as he struggled to pull in a breath. You were gone. Youâd left him.
His brothers hands were suddenly on his shoulders, fingers gently digging in to get his attention. When that failed he pushed Tom down into the nearest chair and a glass of whiskey appeared. He downed it without hesitation. It stung his throat and pooled in his empty stomach with a burn that did nothing to thaw the ice trapping his heart.
Fingers tangling in his curls he stared into his empty glass. Where had you gone? When would you be back? How could you leave without telling him? A million more questions raced through his mind as he tried to reconcile everything. How had he not noticed when heâd sat outside your apartment for so long each night?
With a jolt he realised that if Intel had told Harry about you leaving then you were on their radar already. A new wave of worries and anxiety took over as he silently questioned how long theyâd been keeping tabs on you.
After what felt like an eternity he glanced up to find his brother sat opposite him, elbows resting against his knees as he nursed his own glass. The sympathy radiating off him set Tom on edge.
All promises to give you time no longer applied. He had to find you before his boss realised why youâd ran.
âWhere is she?â
âShe landed in Miami,â Harryâs jaw worked for a second before he surprisingly added, âIâll book your flight.â
A/N: I have had this sitting in my drafts for waaaayyy too long. Hope everyone enjoys!
Part one and Part two
1,287 words
âThatâs not funny, Tom.â You tried to climb off his lap but he wound his arms around your waist holding you firmly in place against him.
âItâs not a joke. I work as part of their security team. When thereâs an incident that puts one of them at risk I...deal with it.â
A knot formed in your chest as his words sank in.
âIs that what you call it? âDealingâ with them?â you whispered.
Tom grimaced. âItâs a job, nothing else. I donât enjoy what I do, but itâs necessary.â
A chill crept through you. The man in front of you couldnât be further from the one you knew.
âWhen did it become necessary to kill people, Tom?â your voice quivered.
âThe other option is letting people be put in danger. I do it to protect people,â he insisted. Staring into his eyes you saw the conviction behind his words. He really believed he was protecting people. The bloodied face of the man from his office swam to the forefront of your mind.
âI canât do this.â Shrugging out of his hold you backed away from him. It was all too much at once. Youâd wanted the truth and youâd gotten it. Now you didnât know what to do with the knowledge. You struggled to process it. Tom was paid to kill.
âIâll need to tell them you know. Even knowing what little that you do, youâre a liability to them now.â
You stopped in your tracks. Dread pooled in your gut.
âAre they going to...â Mouth drying up your hands started to tremble. The edges of the room wavered slightly. You reached for the sofa to steady yourself.
âNo!â Tom shot to his feet, hands reaching out to you. You sidestepped him, determined to keep your distance.
âThey wonât touch you,â he promised solemnly.
âAnd what about you?â you whispered.
Confusion flickered over his face. âYou know I could never, would never, do anything to hurt you.â
âWhat happens when that changes? When you decide that Iâm not worth your protection any more? Will you âdealâ with me?â
His breath caught, his torn expression pinning you in place. âHow could you...how could you even think that?â
When you didnât respond his jaw clenched. âIs that what you really think of me?â
You couldnât find your voice to answer. The pain radiating from him had your heart in your throat. Guilt prickled at your skin.
âY/N,â he took a step towards you, freezing instantly when you flinched. His hands balled into fists as his jaw worked. âFuck!â he cursed suddenly, making you jump. âIâve told you everything! Iâve told you what you wanted to know!â His hands caught in his curls, frustratedly tugging at them as he started to pace the floor.
âAll Iâve done is keep you safe this whole time and you keep looking at me like....like Iâm a stranger.â Hands dropping to his sides he turned his back to you.
âIf you hadnât come to the office none of this would have happened,â he muttered bitterly.
The swell of anger that had deserted you earlier raced through you like a hot poker.
âDonât you dare put this on me, Tom.â The dangerous edge to your voice had him tensing. âItâs you that didnât turn up for our lunch date. Itâs you that didnât answer their phone.â The building indignation fuelled by your adrenaline made your fear evaporate. Stalking your way over to him your hands balled into fists. âItâs you that lied to me for almost a year.â You landed a solid hit to the back of his shoulder. âDonât you dare come into my apartment and tell me this is all my fault!â
He spun, expression a mixture of disbelief and irritation, and caught your wrists in a tight grip.
âIf it wasnât for you I wouldnât be in this situation to begin with!â he snapped back. âI have tried to keep you away from this for as long as I could. I thought that when I did eventually tell you youâd be able to see past it. You wouldnât see me as what I do, youâd see me as who I am but now I know I was wrong.â His expression turned sour.
âStop putting this all on me! If the roles were reversed youâd-â You cut off as he pulled you sharply against him. With his face millimetres away his dark eyes bore into yours with an unsettling intensity.
âIâd be here, right by your side, like I always have been. There is nothing that would change how I feel about you. Not now. Not ever.â
Lips parting to drag in a strangled breath you watched his eyes soften as they traced over your features.
âIâll give you whatever you need. Time. Space. You can have it. But I wonât let you push me away.â His grip softened on your wrists, his thumb smoothing over your pulse as if he could erase your worries.
âYou know me,â he breathed, lips impossibly close to yours. âIâm not the monster you think I am.â
You didnât know how to respond. The implications of his words rattled around in your mind. He wasnât going to walk away from this, from you. The weight of the situation settled suddenly on your shoulders and you sagged in his grip.
âI canât do this, Tom.â He opened his mouth to argue but you cut him off. âNot right now. I need time.â
Hope lit his eyes. âTake all the time you want, Iâll be right here when you need me.â Your stomach twisted at the eagerness in his voice.
Shoving your thoughts to the back of your mind you took a second to really look at him, the man youâd been in love with for the past year. You memorised the crinkles around his eyes, the warmth of their brown depths as he gazed at you. You cautiously reached up to brush his unruly curls away from his face, fingers tangling in their softness. He let go of your wrists, his hands instinctively going to your waist to reel you in closer. The lingering notes of his cologne reached your nose as your body pressed against his, the warmth of him surrounding you. Heart hammering you watched his eyes darken, his breath coming quicker, but he held back.
âY/N,â he whispered, the slight urgency in his voice let you know exactly what he wanted. For you to say yes. To accept what was about to happen without pushing him away. Closing your eyes you shook your head. You didnât want another bittersweet reminder of him. His grip tightened for a second, a reassuring squeeze, before his lips brushed your forehead.
âYou know where to find me when youâre ready.â You didnât dare open your eyes. You didnât want the memory of him leaving your apartment. Didnât have the strength to watch him go knowing it would be the last time you saw him.
With a soft click the apartment door closed and you let out a shuddered breath. You knew what you had to do. Moving quickly through the apartment you packed up a small suitcase with a handful of clothes and keepsakes, anything you could live without got left behind. Grabbing a coat and your handbag you hesitated at the front door. You didnât want to have to do this, but heâd left you no choice. Heâd always be there waiting for you, fighting to have you see his side. If you didnât there was no amicable breakup, you knew the men he worked for would make sure of it.
With one last glance around the apartment you shouldered you bag and set out for the airport.
every night there are a variety of customers but this night is different - as youâre doing your usual dance routine, you notice the hottest guy youâve seen in a while, and he is looking back at you, his eyes are burning your skin way more than the blaring stage lights - who is this man and why do you feel this way? itâs almost like youâre doing this dance for him and his eyes only
* Settle - @duskholland
distance may make the heart grow fonder, but youâd spend every day by tomâs side if you could
* Meet Your Match - @duskholland
itâs always awkward when your current boyfriend meets your ex, but itâs a whole new level when it transpires that your ex-boyfriend is the leader of tomâs rival mob...
* Uncharted Territory - @duskholland
you've been with men before, but you've never been with tom - he's intent to prove that he can show you satisfaction beyond your wildest dreams
As You Are - @duskholland
who could've known showing up to work late one night would put you in touch with a mysterious stranger, capable of turning your life upside down
* Getting His Fill - @duskholland
you've been a brat all day, and tom's had enough
Die For You - @duskholland
tom's got a secret: you want to know what it is - he's desperate to keep you in the dark - unfortunately for him, secrets have the habit of coming to light eventually, sometimes in the worst way possible
* Stuck With(out) You - @duskholland
when the law finally catches up to london's most notorious mobster, tom learns that nothing is fair in love and war
* Got Your Six (Series) - @dlwritings
y/n and her sister are best friends, they never get into any trouble, and they like the simple lives they lead - trouble starts to follow their every step, but with the help of mob boss tom and his consigliere harrison, they just might make it out alive
* I Think He Knows - @sleepyhollands
tom takes y/n to an important event, and she wonders if her boyfriend knows what he does to her
* Match Made In Hell (Series) - @spidernerdsblog
you always wanted a simple life but to be born as the daughter of a dangerous mobster turned out to be a curse for you - everything changes when your father gets your lover killed and forcefully marries you off to another mobster as a part of a deal - you hate your father and your husband the only thing you seek is now revenge - will you ever be able to fall in love again or this burning hatred inside you will consume you?
* Intrinsic - @hollandsmushroom
you are attending a meeting of the families with tom when his rival has the audacity to insinuate something he shouldnât, challenging the peace agreements that had just been established, tom has to claim what is his
* Tease - @tom-holland-parker
after a bad mistake of wanting to make tom jealous you have to deal with the consequences of being a tease
What Baby? - @tom-holland-parker
dating the leader of the toughest gang in london was bound to gain you enemies - so after one particular encounter y/n in sent to the hospital to recover but they didnât expect this news
* Choices - @arvinsescape
you become the product of someoneâs torture and now you have to decide what you want
y/n and tom are coming home from a gala and y/n notices that tom was tense from all the work and meetings from the past few days and decides that she would help him relax
Someday Is Today (Series) - @asonofpeter
for the past five years, you and tom were comfortable raising your son together - everything was fine, but as your lives take a turn; nothing seems to be the same
Strictly Business (Series) - @asonofpeter
working as the assistant of londonâs most feared mob boss for a few years, your relationship was purely professional but after he caught himself eavesdropping on your conversation, he couldnât help but offer a proposalâŠit was strictly business; or so you thought
* I Can't Help Falling In Love With You - @tommydarlings
the leader of the london mafia is the devil in person and you would do everything you can to end him, wouldn't you?
Mr & Mrs Holland - @jeyramarie
most powerful couple in the country but itâs not tom you should be fearing
Run To Me (Series) - @hollandroos
nothing ever goes as planned; youâd heard that saying a hundred and one times before but it wasnât until you were packing your bags to leave that it really hit you- nothing ever went as planned
Liar - @huntergatherercreator
you find out what tom does for a living
The Takedown (Series) - @huntergatherercreator
nyc has a new drug lord determined to wipe out any and all competition in order to grow his empire - youâre going undercover to stop him
* Rest For The Wicked - @hazofmyheart
when you go to help relieve some of your boyfriend's stress prior to a meeting with a rival mobster who can't seem to keep his eyes to himself. tom takes the opportunity to remind you who you belong to
* Bad Reputation (Series) - @hazofmyheart
unwillingly caught up in the life of a well known london mob, y/n finds love in unlikely places but is the dangerous lifestyle too much for her to handle?
Remember That Night - @thegirlintheswivelchair
months after breaking up, tom reaches out and unearths the memories you had worked so hard to let go of
* Shoot Me Down (Series) - @binkysh0e
viola folliero was no doubt the brains, and the beauty, behind the folliero mob, placing them as one of the most powerful families in europe alongside the hollands - so when they both get ambushed within the space of a week, an alliance is formed to protect their names
Failed Surprises - @tomthesoftie
y/n worrying about tom, sobbing, holding each other, soft comforting with tom
Iced Latte (Series) - @blissfulparker
tom is one of the most infamous mob owners of london when one day he spots a woman in a coffee shop and falls in love with her but finds something darker
* Happiness Is A Butterfly (Series) - @blissfulparker
you and tom spend your whole lives looking for your soulmates - how could you not see that you two were right under each otherâs noses both coming from a mob family?
Always But Not Forever - @spideymarvelws
during the interrogation of a mole, tom learns something
* Forget Me Not (Series) - @angelic-holland
y/n leads a rather simple life running her floral shop in a small storefront in east london - tom leads a dangerous life; filled with guns, drugs, fighting, and intimidation
Risk - @mendespideys
tom takes it upon himself to find a way to keep you safe from the dangers that come with the mob life
* Power Trip (Series) - @sinfulserpents
he installs fear in everyone he comes across, leaves people quite literally shaking in their boots, but not her - you never imagined that you would get caught up in the life of one of the biggest mobs, nor the life of tom holland, the biggest mob boss in new york but now that you were, he wasnât going to let you go that easy
Positive - @stylesharrys
heâs the big bad mob boss with a reputation to upholdâŠbut now he also has a family to consider
* Confess To Me - @little-diable
she gets offered one last chance to make it back into the holy realm, one last chance to prove her worth - turning a sinner pure canât be that difficult, can it?
despite discovering the new owner of the club you work at may have his own secrets hidden, the temptation to get closer to him outweighs your trepidation..
In The End - @parkersbliss
you either both make it out alive or donât
Take You Home - @hoefortomhoelland
tom goes clubbing and bumps into you, but he canât stay away from you - at the end of the night, you walk away but heâs desperate to find you again
* I Only Feel You (Series) - @stuckonspidey
a world in which soulmates feel their other half, physically and emotionally - y/n has given up on finding her soulmate, given up on trying to decipher the sensations he feels and the lifestyle he leadsâprompting her to give up on him - her other half, sheâd come to find, is the leader of the holland crime family, and in no means the easiest person to love
Playing God - @bi-writes
âwhatâs mine is yours"
* Predictable - @bi-writes
can you ever keep a secret from a man such as tom holland?
Could I get some headcanons of how mob Tom Holland would react to the reader freaking out after she finds out he's a mafia boss and she suddenly yells ''What's the guarantee you won't kill me after you're bored with me?''
Hey lovey, would I totally be showing my age if I admitted I had to look up examples of headcanons? đ I don't think I can get my head around how to write them if I'm honest as I'm so used to writing full fics BUT my story Liar will have this scenario in the next part that I'm working on so hopefully it'll be something you'll enjoy!
Hi, so how would mob Tom Holland react to reader having depressing and suicidal thoughts because of too much pressure of exams or something? I'm kinda undergoing some stress now and I could really use some fluff, hope you don't mind....
Hey lovey, I know you were looking for some fluff to help you feel better but honestly I feel like you really need to reach out and talk to someone if youâre in a position thatâs making you have thoughts like that. Exams can be tough, but regardless of where you are in life either high school, college or university, they are not worth your mental health. I know as a culture we have it drilled into us that having an âAâ grade in everything is the only way to progress through life, but I can guarantee to you itâs not. Itâs also not the end of your journey if you donât get the grade you wanted. Thereâs so much more to life than having a piece of paper with a grade on it.
Please reach out to a teacher, or school counsellor, whoever you feel comfortable talking to, and tell them how youâre feeling. You shouldnât be expected to participate in exams that you deem important when you arenât in the right head space to take them. They should be able to help you with information on where to go from there, whether thatâs getting in contact with a local therapist, calling an impartial helpline, or visiting a doctor.
Iâm not going to lie and tell you itâll be easy to have that conversation with them because it wonât. I can tell you from personal experience that picking up the phone and calling the doctor was the hardest thing Iâve ever had to do in my life, but it was also the best decision Iâve made. With the right help and support it will get better. It may take a few months, it may take a year but you will get there.
Please stay safe lovey, Iâm fighting in your corner đ
Hello :) I was wondering if I could make a not so interesting request and I hope you don't mind đ So, like reader has kids with mob Tom Holland and you can decide the genders and number of kids they have and stuff and how would the whole family react to one of reader's friends constantly pursuing reader's love and when reader tells them that she's married and has kids, the lil shit is like "It's all right, just divorce them'' I have a feeling no one will be taking this lightly.....
Hey! I LOVED this idea!! I did switch it up to a co-worker because that's the first thing I thought of when I read this but I can definitely see him grudgingly having to put up with a childhood friend who just won't quit trying to make the reader see how in love with them they are. I feel like I need to write that too now....
Hope you're having a great day, take care and stay safe lovey đđ
----
Warnings: Some swearing, and super sleaze ball energy
1,389 words
âItâs just drinks,â you laughed as Tom buried his face into your neck with a sigh. You focused on the mirror, touching up your hair and smoothing over your outfit. It was just drinks but it was with your new work team. Youâd all only met last week and youâd suggested a night out as a team building exercise. Nothing broke the new job nerves better than alcohol and bad karaoke.
Tweaking his curls you smiled as Tom reluctantly met your gaze in the mirror.
âYou say that, but youâre not the one being left with the terrible two,â he grumbled.
You turned to cup his face, laughing at his small pout and chocolate puppy dog eyes.
âIs my big bad mob boss afraid of a couple teenagers?â you teased.
âIâm not afraid of them,â he growled. âI just donât understand them. All I get are grunts and sighs from Thomas and with Katelyn its like she speaks a different language all together.â Hands wrapping around your waist he pulled you tight against him.
âPlus, you look too stunning to be let out without a chaperone. I think I need to come with you.â His hands wandered to your backside, fingers creeping down to lift the hem of your dress. âOr, you could stay home,â he purred seductively as he gripped the bare skin of your thighs.
As much as you didnât want to you wriggled out of his grip. âWeâll have plenty of time for that when I get home.â
âIâm going to hold you to that,â he winked.
A horn blared from outside and you cursed, you didnât want to be late. Tom deftly swept you into your jacket and handed you your purse.
âHave a good time, darling,â he said as you kissed him on the cheek quickly. With an appalled huff, he reeled you in for a proper kiss, holding you captive until the taxi beeped their horn again.
âI wonât be late. Have fun,â you called over your shoulder as you hurried out the front door.
----
The bar was packed already and you were struggling to find your table when a heavy hand landed on the small of your back.
âItâs Y/N right?â Relieved you found yourself staring up at one of your new co-workers. Your brain faltered for a second before finding his name.
âMax?â He smiled in a cocky overconfident way before leaning in closer.
âYou can call me whatever you like, sweetheart.â You grimaced a smile, subtly inching back from him as the stench of his cologne clouded around you.
âWhereâs the team table?â you asked, pointedly turning away and scanning the room again.
âItâs in the back corner.â When you moved in the direction heâd indicated he caught your arm. âThe table service is pretty slow, if you want a drink we can get one from the bar.â
âIâm happy to wait. Iâm going to go re-introduce myself to everyone.â Breaking out of his hold you strode to the table, the prickling feeling of being watched crawling over you until you were swept into the embrace of your favourite work friend.
âIâm so glad youâre here! I was talking about our last project and this one here,â she hooked a thumb at one of the young interns, âdoesnât believe we wrote the whole presentation ourselves after tequila shots.â
You laughed at the memory. When it came to work you took it seriously, if you didnât you wouldnât have been promoted to executive and leading this new team. However, that didnât mean you didnât know how to have some fun.
You fell into an easy conversation with them both and others of the party drifted over sporadically to shake your hand and introduce themselves a bit more.
âWeâve already met but Iâll take five minutes with you over everyone else.â A voice said at your ear. You already knew from the overpowering smell of cologne it was Max. Now it was mixed with a strong dose of rum and turned your stomach. He lounged against the table in front of you.
âTell me, who did you have to sleep with to get this job? And is there a sign up sheet?â he winked. Your skin crawled. Tight lipped you judged whether you could justify wasting a perfectly good drink by dumping it over his head. You cast a critical eye over him. As much as he was dressed like a man of business his suit was clearly off the rack. It was too small in the shoulders and had a slight polyester sheen to it. He could pretend all he liked but he hadnât worked on a team this high up before. If he had heâd be better dressed.
âThatâs funny, I was just about to ask how much your daddy had to spent to get you on the team.â His eyes flashed dangerously then he slowly grinned.
âYouâre feisty. I like that.â His gaze shamelessly travelled over you. You refused to cross your arms over your chest under his lecherous stare. Youâd dealt with worse, you reminded yourself.
âI need another drink.â You told him bluntly and walked off towards the bar. You reluctantly tamped down the urge to fire him. This was outside of business hours, youâd deal with it on Monday morning you told yourself. You just had to get through the rest of the night first.
Youâd just reached the bar when his hand gripped at your waist and his fetid breath washed over your neck.
âKeep running away, I like a challenge. Itâll only make it sweeter when I have you writhing under-â
Spinning you shoved him away.
âIâm happily married,â you snapped in disgust.
He only leered at you. âThatâs what divorce is for, sweetheart.â Your fingers tightened on your glass as you readied to throw the contents of it at him.
âGet your sleazy hands away from my mum!â You blinked in surprise as Katelyn elbowed her way through the crowd to jab a finger in Maxâs face. âYeah, Iâm talking to you, you piece of shit.â
âKatelyn.â you tried to scold her but the weight of it was lost as you laughed.
âYou heard her.â Tomâs voice was dangerously low as he stalked to stand beside you. âIf you so much as breath in the direction of my wife again itâll be the last time you do anything.â A cocky smile covered Maxâs face until Thomas stopped behind him and dug his hands into his shoulders.
âYou heard my dad. If you have any common sense you wonât mess with us.â
Max snorted, âYou think Iâm scared of you? I could steal your wife any day-â
âMr Holland, I wasnât expecting you tonight.â The flustered manager of the bar accompanied by two security guards faltered as he took in the scene. âIs there an issue here?â
âThere is, this idiot is threatening me,â Max sneered.
The manager didnât divert his attention away from Tom for a second.
âThis manâs been harassing my wife, could you escort him out Eddie?â Tom asked the closest guard.
âSure thing, boss.â
âBoss?â Max scoffed. âWhat did you do? Pay them off? How pathetic.â
âI called him boss because he owns the place.â Eddie scowled, grabbing a fistful of Maxâs suit jacket. Mouth gaping his beady eyes flickered between you and Tom.
âFuck,â he swore as the pin finally dropped. You were surprised it had taken him this long to work it out. There werenât many Hollandâs in town after all.
âIn case it isnât perfectly clear, youâre fired.â you snapped. You watched him get dragged away, the crowd parting like the sea to avoid him.
âWhat are you all doing here?â you asked as Katelyn wrapped you in a hug from behind.
âEddie called dad,â Thomas said, as if it was obvious.
âYou had him watching me?â
âI always have someone watching you. I need to know youâre safe when Iâm not with you.â Pulling you into his arms he captured your mouth, hand possessively winding around the nape of your neck as he kissed you deeply.
âEw!â Katelyn complained just as Thomas said, âI think Iâve lost my appetite.â
Laughing you pulled back to swat playfully at them both.
âYou just made sure Iâm forever stuck with your dad, get used to it,â you smiled.
Could you do a mob Tom Holland reacting to the reader where the reader is over working herself lately and forgets to sleep, eat and stay hydrated properly and that sort of stuff. So, when they're busy stalking her they see that she left her front door open and she's literally collapsed on the floor out of exhaustion and started to sleep there? Fun fact: That might end up being me by tomorrow or after 2 days approx.
Hey lovey, thank you so much for the request! I know it's taken me a couple of days to get around to writing this so hopefully you've had a lovely rest and some downtime to reset after being so busy. I do feel slightly called out by this request if I'm honest because, same. Just remember to be nice to yourself, your body can handle a lot but it needs a little looking after too. Drink your water, have lots of yummy snacks, and most importantly have a nice long sleep!
I hope this is close to what you were after.
Stay safe and take care đđ
-------
1,339 words
You struggled to keep your eyes open as you stumbled to your door. It was well past nine, youâd only meant to stay an extra hour at work but, like it had for the past three days, the time had got away from you. Every time youâd made to leave there was another issue, another customer, another delivery. Before youâd even realised it youâd worked almost double your shifted hours each day and you be lying if you said you werenât feeling it now. Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you fought with the lock. Stepping into the hallway you gratefully dropped your bag and fished it out.
âWhy are you only getting home nowâ the message read. Then a second later âHave you eaten yet?â
Shoulders slumping you pushed the door closed and flicked on the light. You didnât know how to respond to him. He didnât normally message to check up on you like that but you didnât blame him for worrying, or resorting to spying on you. Youâd barely had the energy to write back more than one word answers to him, and that was if you got five minutes alone to actually check your phone. As you re-read his words your stomach churned with hunger. You hadnât eaten yet. After a second you realised you couldnât remember the last time youâd had a drink of anything either. Scrubbing a hand over your face you sat heavily on the bottom step. The intention of kicking off your shoes evaporated as your legs stretched out in front of you and relief flowed through them. Resting your shoulder against the wall you stared past your phone, eyes zoning out as you tried to think of what to say to him. You just needed a second to think. Smothering a yawn your eyes fluttered closed. Just a small second and then youâd let him know you were OK...
***
Tom stared at his phone. It had been twenty minutes since heâd text you. It wasnât like you to not respond, or to be getting home this late constantly. Youâd waved him off with reassurances that you were just busy with work but something about the situation wasnât sitting right with him. Dialling your phone it rang out and disconnected, unanswered. He knew he shouldnât doubt you. You were too good a person to lie to him, let alone go behind his back and hide something, but the evasive way youâd been acting had him unsettled.
Standing he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and shrugged it on. The man speaking faltered and cleared his throat. Tom levelled him a look, daring him to question his actions. If he wanted to walk out of a business meeting he damn well would. Buttoning his jacket he pointedly made eye contact with the other twelve men at the table. When no-one spoke he clapped a hand on his brothers shoulder and stalked from the room.
His chauffeur drove him to your house as fast as the traffic would allow. He called you again. Twice. Three times. Growling a profanity he pulled up the tracker app heâd installed on your phone and checked the location again. It still said you were at home. A chill crept in as an errant thought slid into his mind. What if you werenât alone? Shaking it off, he shoved the phone into his pocket and impatiently waited as the car turned into your street. He had the door open before the car had properly slowed.
Shoving the gate open he hesitated as he took in the dark windows. The only light was in the hallway. Reaching into his jacket his fingers brushed against the cool metal of his gun as unease swirled in his gut.
Trying the door his breath caught as he realised it was unlocked. Hand tightening on his weapon he gently nudged it open until he caught sight of you stretched out on the stairs. For a second his heart constricted, stomach plummeting as he took in how still you were. Then you huffed a sleepy breath and shifted to get more comfortable.
Dragging a hand through his curls he let out a long breath before laughing softly. He was an idiot. The shock of thinking you were unconscious, or worse, felt like a kick from karma for ever doubting you. Watching you so deeply asleep, still wrapped in your jacket, he knew heâd made a mistake by not checking up on you sooner.
Shutting the door quietly he flipped the lock. Kneeling down he slipped off your shoes, tucking them neatly on the rack before winding his arms around you. Lifting you easily he cradled you close as he carried you up the stairs to your bedroom. Toeing the door open he left the light off and wound his way to your side of the bed. As he lay you on top of the duvet you jolted, suddenly wide awake.
***
A startled yelp left you as a dark figure loomed over the bed. Hands flying up to ward them off you caught them hard in the gut. A whoosh of air left them along with a groan.
âY/N, itâs me.â Tomâs voice broke through the sleep fog still clinging to you.
âAre you OK?â Pushing yourself up your hands fluttered around him, not sure where was safe to touch him. His fingers caught yours, thumbs smoothing over your knuckles.
âI should be asking you that.â The bed shifted as he settled on the edge. In the darkness you could barely see him but you could feel his gaze boring into you.
âIâm fine,â you mumbled biting back a yawn.
âYou passed out in the hallway,â he admonished. âYouâve clearly not been taking care of yourself.â
Fingers going limp in his hold you dropped your head guiltily. He wasnât wrong. You had pushed yourself too far this time.
The bedside lamp flared to life, searing your eyes for a second until they adjusted. When you found the courage to look up he was watching you with pensive stare. You knew what he must be thinking. You were a mess. A huge contrast to him in every way. Where your hair was a mess from rushing about all day, his was perfectly dishevelled. Your clothes were rumpled from being hastily thrown on this morning and his suit was crisp and sharp even after a full day of work.
âI guess Iâm just going to have to take care of you.â He said it with a straight face but you flushed at the double meaning.
âYou donât have to do that, Tom. Iâm sure youâve got more important things to do tonight.â
âNone more important than you.â His lips quirked when you stared dumbly at him. Shrugging out of his coat he dropped it at the end of the bed and undid his cufflinks.
âAre you hungry, baby?â Your throat dried up as you watched him roll up his sleeves. When you didnât answer he raised an eyebrow, hands going to his hips.
âI asked you a question.â
âYes,â you whispered.
âGood.â He crossed to your dresser and pulled out your favourite pyjamas. âPut these on, and get under the covers.â Taking the empty glass from your bedside table he disappeared for a minute before returning with it filled to the brim with water.
âI want this gone by the time I get back,â he ordered.
âWhere are you going?â you asked, suddenly worried.
Cupping your face he kissed your forehead. âRelax. Iâm going to make you something to eat.â
Slumping back against the cushions you smiled up at him.
âI canât wait to see that,â you teased. Heâd never personally made you anything before. Everything usually came straight from his personal chef, or a nearby restaurant.
âIf you donât get changed and drink your water you wonât get anything,â he warned.
Your stomach growled loudly in protest.
âDonât worry, Iâm going to take good care of you,â he promised.
I've just finished reading a book and tbh, the plot made me feel kinda uneasy and even though I might look calm and collected from the outside, I kinda need to recover in the inside. How do you think Mob Tom Holland would comfort the reader? Could you please make it fluff and thank you đ„°
I'm so sorry you're feeling that way lovey. Please remember that you always have the power to take yourself away from things that make you feel like that, whether it be a book, a tv show or a situation. If it makes you uncomfortable you can stop whenever, don't force yourself to continue doing something just because you feel like you have to.
I've never written fluff before so I'm really hoping this is ok and that it makes you feel even a teeny bit better.
Take care, and stay safe đđ
-------
You closed the book sharply. Laying it on the coffee table you shoved it away with shaking hands. Dread was swirling in your gut as you replayed the last few words youâd read.
âEverything OK?â Tomâs soft voice brought you back from your thoughts. You tried to ground yourself with it but just when you thought you had a grip on being in his office the story swept you up again.
âMhmm,â you hummed lightly, nodding. You forced yourself to throw him a smile. He lowered the report heâd been scanning and swung his chair in your direction. As his gaze wandered over your face a small frown lined his forehead.
âYou know I can tell when youâre lying,â he admonished. Eyes dropping quickly to study the floor you wrapped the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands.
âItâs nothing,â you murmured.
âIt doesnât seem like nothing. Come here.â Glancing up you caught him patting his thigh invitingly. When you hesitated his frown returned. He stood, shrugging out of his jacket and yanking his tie loose before making his way to you. Dropping onto the couch he deftly pulled you onto his lap, arms winding around you tightly before you could protest. With your head tucked against his chest and the warmth of him surrounding you the lingering unease started to lessen.
âTell me whatâs wrong, loveâ he cooed, his lips pressing kisses to the top of your head.
âItâs nothing. Itâs just the book I was reading,â you mumbled.
âThis one?â He gripped you tighter as he leaned forward to pluck it from the table. You nodded into his chest. His cologne was still strong after being at work all day, the smell of it soothing your senses. You buried closer against him trying to block out everything.
Relaxing back against the sofa he turned the book in his hand.
âWhatâs wrong with it?â he asked.
âItâs made me a little...uncomfortable,â you admitted into the sanctuary of his shirt.
âWhich part?â You stilled, stomach tensing. You really didnât want to go into detail about it.
âUh.. almost all of it. The storyline was just a bit too much for-â you cut off at the sound of tearing paper. Gaze flying to the book you watched in awed horror as Tom tore a section of pages out. Crumpling them he pitched them across the room towards his desk. Mouth slack you couldnât find any words as he set about tearing more from the book until he eventually tossed it to the floor broken and deflated looking.
You pulled back to stare at him.
âWhat did you just do?â you found yourself whispering, eyes wide as you took in his calm expression.
âItâs just a story. Words on a page. Itâs not real unless you make it real.â Hand cupping your face his thumb traced your bottom lip as it quivered.
âI know that,â you sighed, âbut I canât stop thinking about it. I feel like itâs seared into my brain.â You clenched your eyes closed as frustrated tears threatened.
âItâs OK, baby,â he hushed. âLet me take your mind off it.â
âHow?â Interest piqued you opened your eyes in time to see him kick his shoes off and rearrange the decorative cushions so they were stacked at the arm of the couch.
âLie down with me and youâll see.â He smiled widely as you balked.
âWeâre in your office, Tom!â you hissed, shoving at his chest but you couldnât stop him from pulling you down on top of him.
âThe one time thatâs not what Iâm thinking about and youâre all for it?â he teased, eyes glinting darkly as he watched you gawp at him. With a laugh he guided your head until it was lying against his chest and linked his fingers over your back to keep you still.
âIâm going to tell you a story.â
âWhat?â
âYou heard me. Iâm going to tell you a new story so you forget about that pile of crap you were reading.â
Too intrigued you didnât argue with him. Instead you got comfortable against him. Arms lining his sides your fingers gripped the soft material of his shirt.
âOK. Iâm ready,â you insisted when he didnât start right away.
âOnce upon a time there was a handsome prince named Tom who-â he stopped as you snorted a laugh. âWhatâs so funny?â he asked in mock offence.
âNothing,â you insisted quickly, âkeep going.â He grumbled but continued.
âThere was a handsome prince named Tom, who was the best in the kingdom at sword fighting. No-one in the land was as quick with a sword as he was.â Tomâs words rumbled under your ear soothingly.
âEven though his mother begged him to stop fighting and look for a wife he refused. Sword fighting was his life, his calling, he wouldnât give that up for anything. Then one day he met the most beautiful princess...â
âAnd she told him to âget lostâ?â you guessed a smile tugging at your lips as you sneaked a look up at him. His eyes softened as he smiled. You could tell he was reliving the day youâd both met too.
âShe did,â he agreed, âbut luckily for the prince she was a slow runner and he was able to catch her.â He grinned wolfishly as his fingers slipped under your arms to tickle you.
âTom!â you squealed, trying to wriggle out of his grip. He flipped you onto your back, pinning you beneath him and peppered your face with kisses as you tried to breath through your laughter.
âStop,â you pleaded, lungs desperate for air as you smiled at him. He settled against you, hands brushing your hair away from your face.
âWhen I caught you I promised I wouldnât let anything hurt you. Whether that be a person, or a bookâ he threw a dark look at where it lay on the floor, âIâm here for you, always.â What little air was left in your lungs evaporated as his lips met yours in a slow tender kiss.
A/N: There was so much hype for the first part of this and I was so amazed you all enjoyed it, thank you so much! Here is the much slaved over part 2.
If you havenât read part one you can find it here: Liar
2,491 Words
With the distraction of work youâd managed to suppress everything all week. Now setting your bags down the urge to turn around and leave your apartment overwhelmed you. Everything you owned was tied to a memory of him. Just last weekend youâd spent hours sitting on your sofa together. With a bottle of wine on the coffee table, your legs draped over his as he traced patterns on your bare skin, youâd confided in him. Youâd let yourself be so vulnerable. To find out heâd been able to lie to you even after everything youâd been through together was...your chest ached thinking about it.
Shrugging out of your jacket you paced to the kitchen. An unbidden memory of him standing at the stove, sweatpants riding low had you turning on your heel. You couldnât do it. Being alone within these four walls all weekend would drive you insane. The only reason youâd lasted this long was thanks to last minute plans each night with your best friend, but you couldnât keep using them as a distraction.
With a frustrated sigh you paced to the sofa. Fingers digging into the cushions you tried to fight back the wave of anxiety threatening to crush you. What were you going to do? What if he turned up? Iâm not going to give up, an echo of his voice reminded you. You knew heâd meant it. Heâd tried to reach you constantly. Voicemails. Texts. Emails. All begging for a chance but none of them giving you what you wanted; the truth. The longer it took him to actually show up the more on edge you got. The urge to confront him head on stirred but you squashed the idea quickly. You werenât ready to see him. If you were honest you werenât sure if you ever would be.
In the bleak silence of the apartment it started to feel like the walls were closing in. You needed a distraction. No, you needed to detox you realised. Shoulders setting you took in a deep breath before grabbing a garbage bag from the kitchen. You started there. His favourite mug was the first thing to go in the bag. Then his expensive tea. The almost finished bottle of whiskey he loved joined them after a long hesitation. Youâd never been a hard drinker, but there had been something about the way the taste lingered on his tongue when he kissed you that you couldnât describe. With a sharp shake of your head you forced the thoughts back. Quick and methodical, you told yourself. You could do it.
The living room didnât have much in way of his things but it did have the most photographs. You took them down, barely glancing at them. Itâs not as if you needed them. The memory of his face as you left him in the elevator was etched into your brain, along with what youâd found him doing in his office. Youâd replayed the scene constantly, looking for something that would disprove what youâd witnessed. You always came up empty. Â Fingers tightening on the bag you carried it into the bathroom.
Toothbrush. Body wash. Your fingers lingered on the bottle of cologne. You didnât need to open it to be able to smell it. It oozed from the bottle, smooth and seductive, winding around you like a soft caress. It was a perfect fit for him. Hand shaking you took it from the shelf. Your brain reminded you it was just a smell but your heart was having trouble listening. It was much more than that. It was a direct link to every moment spent with him. Every lazy morning, every date, every TV marathon, every kiss. Every âI love youâ.
Sinking onto the edge of the tub you clasped the bottle tightly. It had been almost a year. A year heâd kept his true identity from you. What kind of person could spend his days like... that then simply brush it off as if it meant nothing? Who could come home and be so attentive and caring when they had literal blood on their hands? Empty stomach twisting itself into knots you fought down the rising bile. The urge to smash the bottle against the tiled wall and watch it shatter into a thousand pieces had your muscles tensing. You resisted. Â Eyes burning with unshed tears you shoved it into the bag.
Leaving the bathroom you stared at your closed bedroom door. Youâd been avoiding it all week. Youâd slept on the couch so you didnât need to see his shirts in the closet. Didnât have to see the book heâd been reading, sitting on his untouched side of the bed. You werenât strong enough for that yet. Feeling the weight of the trash bag in your hand you knew you wanted it gone. If it sat in the hallway until the morning youâd cave. Maybe not right away, but after the second bottle of wine you intended on having the forbidden hopes that things would work out and stubborn denial of the situation could creep to the forefront of your mind and his things could all end up back where they had been. Even though you knew that wasnât possible. Youâd thought over every scenario. None of them ended with him staying. How could you love a killer?
Roughly tying the bag you snagged your keys from the entry table, tugged open the door and ran into someoneâs solid back. You dropped the bag, hands catching the door frame to steady yourself.
âIâm sorry, I-â Your words dried up as you realised who it was hovering on your doorstep. Taking an automatic step back you tried to put some distance between the two of you. You werenât ready for this. Hands growing clammy you barely breathed as he turned. His hopeful gaze wrenched at your heart.
âI donât want you here,â you managed to choke out. Seeing him stood on your door step let loose a rush of emotions you couldnât handle. The urge to slam the door in his face was overwhelming. It clashed with the raw need to embrace him thrumming in your veins. Both warring sides had you stuck motionless, hands clutching at the frame to stay upright. His face fell and your stomach dropped with it.
âPlease. I need you to hear me out. When Iâm done if you still want me to go, I will.â
Staring him down you couldnât help the shiver that racked through you at the hollow look in his eyes. The dark circles underlining them and rough stubble on his cheeks was foreign. Youâd never seen him like this. It seemed like this week was full of firsts you didnât think youâd experience. First time seeing him this desperate. First trip to his office. First time seeing him about to kill someone.
Fingers fisting at the memory you planted yourself firmly, arms crossing protectively over your chest. You felt a spark of anger at being cornered into this situation, first with his lies and now with him accosting you at your apartment. âSay what you need to say,â you ground out.
âCan I come in?â His eyes darted over your face, brow furrowing slightly as you ignored his request. âThis isnât a conversation for the hallway.â
What had been an ember blazed like kindling. âIs that your excuse? Couldnât find the right place to tell me?â
âThatâs not-â
âHow about the kitchen, where we eat most of our meals?â The flames licked at your insides, blood steadily starting to boil. âOr the living room on your side of the sofa? Or my bedroom where we fu-â
âY/N!â he snapped, advancing on you. Despite your rage the way heâd half growled your name shocked you into stumbling back. Slamming the door shut behind him he kept coming, forcing you back until your legs hit the sofa. Mouth dry, you flinched as he leaned in, body brushing against you.
âI spent every day with you practising what I wanted to say over, and over again in my head. Ever since I realised I was falling for you Iâve wanted to tell you everything.â The pain radiating from his soft brown eyes was too intense. Dropping your gaze to the floor you tried to stoke the fire back to life. Only your anger would get you through this in one piece.
âI donât need a speech. I need the truth.â
After a long moment he murmured, âI meant it when I said it was to keep you safe. The more people involved in...what I do, the higher the chance someone gets hurt. Iâve never wanted to put you in that position.â He moved to cup your face. You slapped him away. His fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides, the weigh of his stare boring into you.                                      Â
âThat wasnât your choice to make,â you insisted. Forcing yourself to look at him, to let him see the hurt heâd caused your throat constricted as his gaze locked on yours with an intensity you couldnât get away from.
âIt was, because if anything ever happened to you Iâd never forgive myself.â The distress in his voice cut deep, his words carving through the defences youâd thrown up. Pulse racing you dug your fingers further into the fabric of the couch. You couldnât stand that he could get to you like this. Heâd done terrible things. So why did your heart soar at his confession? Why did it still see him as your Tom?
Brow crumpling he dropped his eyes to the floor before dragging a hand through his hair roughly sending curls spilling over his forehead. Without realising what you were doing you reached out to brush them back. He stilled at your touch, breath hitching.
âY/N,â he whispered. âIâve missed you. So much.â He gently caught your hand, pressing your palm against his lips. Tears blurring your vision you sank back against the sofa.
âThat doesnât change anything, Tom.â
Guiding your hand to his chest he caught your waist in a gentle hold. âI donât believe you. I know you feel the same way as I do.â Heat radiated under your fingers as his pulse beat steadily against them.
âThat was before I found out what you were.â
âIâm not that person. Not with you.â You wanted more than anything to believe him. Tears overflowing you averted your eyes, unable to look at him.
âTell me you donât love me. Iâll walk away.â
âThatâs not fair.â You tried to untangle yourself from his grip but he refused to let go.
âWhy not?â he breathed.
âTom,â you warned voice cracking. âYou know why.â
âI need you to say it,â he murmured, fingers tightening around yours. Heart beating painfully in your chest you fought back against the dark temptation his offer brought. All it would take to make him leave was four words. Four words and all of this would go away. As much as you wanted to you couldnât do it. You wouldnât let yourself become like him, you couldnât lie.
After a tense silence a sigh of relief had his shoulders relaxing. He pressed his lips against your forehead. âI knew you wouldnât give up on me. We can work this out, things can go back to the way they were.â
You stilled at his words. Did he really think things would be that simple to fix? That you would go back to being with him and ignore what it was he did for a living?
âIs this a game to you?â Your voice quivered as you shoved him back with shaking hands. In shock he let you go, confusion colouring his features.
âDo you really think we can just pick up where we left off? You have no idea how I feel, Tom. You lied to me.â You pushed him, the force of the action caught him off guard and he stumbled back.Â
âYou made me believe that I knew you.â Teeth gritting you shoved against his chest, harder this time. Your muscles ached to lash out, to punish him, to hurt him but you couldnât bring yourself to do it. Not to him.
âYou made me love you.â Shoulders sagging you let the tears flow unchecked as sobs wracked your body. Knees giving way you sank onto the carpet. He was there instantly, arms wrapping around you and gently pulling you onto his lap. As much as you didnât want to you found your fingers fisting the soft fabric of his shirt, dragging him closer to you, letting the smell and warmth of him surround you. He rubbed your back, hand cradling your face against his chest. Â
âIâll do whatever it takes to prove Iâm still that person. Tell me what you need from me.â He buried his face in your hair. âPlease. I canât stand this,â he begged in a whisper.
You didnât know what to say to him. There wasnât anything that would change what youâd witnessed or what you knew about him now. Every moment with him had been tainted by the lie.
âTell me the truth,â you whispered. You werenât sure if heâd heard you until his hand paused against your back.
âIf I tell you then everything changes. You wonât be safe from what I do any more. Youâll have to be protected.â
Tilting your head back you met his pained gaze.
âI donât need protecting. I need you to stop lying to me.â
He nodded, jaw ticking as he studied your face. After a second he tentatively wiped at the tears staining your cheeks.
âWhen I told you I worked with my family, that was true. Weâre all in...business together. My father, brothers, cousins, we all do the same thing more or less but in different division of the company...â he faltered, fingers brushing your hair away from your face. Â
âWhat kind of company is it?â you prompted. Unease stirred as he avoided eye contact with you.
âSome of us offer protection services, others deal with security breaches. Thereâs a finance team that my father leads and distributions, where my brothers are.â The scruff of his unshaven face scratched at you as you caught his chin, forcing his eyes to meet yours.
âWhat kind of company is it?â you repeated. He tried to tilt his head away. The discomfort radiating off him caused a lump to form in your throat. You shifted until you were straddling his lap, hands holding either side of his face to stop him from getting away.
âTom,â you whispered, voice barely strong enough to speak as your stomach rolled with stress, âwhat do you do?â
He swallowed hard, brow pinching as he seemingly searched for the right words.
âIâm...We...Shit.â Smoothing his hands over your thighs he closed his eyes for a second as he took a deep breath. Then he stared into your eyes and said, âI work for the Mafia.â
Summary: NYC has a new drug lord determined to wipe out any and all competition in order to grow his empire. You're going undercover to stop him.
Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping
Part 17 - 1,975 words
âThanks for this, it really helps. Do you want me to call you back when Iâve narrowed down the names?â
âThatâd be great, but donât start working until tonight. Iâm in the middle of tracking a mark so I might get more information for you before then thatâs more useful.â
âYouâre tracking a mark? Now?â I stared out the window into the bright afternoon sun.
âThanks for the concern, but Iâm good at what I do.â I could hear the smile in his voice. Iâd known as soon as heâd made a joke this morning he wasnât like the other men Holland employed and my instincts urged me to find out why.
âNot that good from what Iâve experienced,â I sniffed, the corners of my mouth tugging up. Â
âDoes that mean youâre not opposed to having some help?â
âYou want to help?â
âThat is what Iâm here for.â Turning I paced into the room. The clutter on the kitchen table kept bringing back visions of the night before along with waves of embarrassment.
âUh, OK, sure. Meet me at the Natural History Museum in about an hour. Wear something cute.â He hung up before I could work out if he was joking or not. I had the uneasy feeling he wasnât. After finding out heâd worked with Holland for âtoo many years to countâ, whatever his plan and process was Iâd go ahead with it. If it got me inside information on Hollandâs set up and on Holland himself Iâd play along.
***
I tugged at the hem of the dress self-consciously. Iâd grabbed it from a thrift store along with a short cardigan on the way and swapped out of my usual casual wear. Iâd changed to flats even though it went against all of my instincts to always wear something you can run in. The weight of my normal clothes and sneakers in a new small backpack was a comfort but only slightly. Turning onto Central Park West I weaved among the tourists until I reached the steps. It took me a second to find him. Which was impressive. With a casual t-shirt just large enough not to draw attention to his frame and dark jeans he was almost invisible in the crowd. He was leaning against the stone railing, scrolling through his phone, only I could tell his eyes hidden by shades were subtly scanning the area. Not for the first time I wondered what heâd done to end up working for a mob boss.
He waited until I approached before pushing off the wall. Shades tipping down for a second he gave me a long once over.
âYou were the one who told me to look cute,â I muttered resisting the urge to cross my arms as his gaze swept over the floral print of the sundress.
âYou do,â he smiled, âIâm just surprised you listened to me.â Sliding his phone into his back pocket he hesitated. âAre you OK being a fake couple? It should only be for a few hours.â It surprised me that heâd made a point to ask instead of forcing me along with his plan.
I offered out my hand to him, pulling it back slightly when he moved to take it.
âI have one condition.â
âName it,â he said, voice suddenly serious.
âYouâre buying lunch.â He laughed, his shoulders easing.
âI think I can manage that.â Taking my hand he started to guide me back the way Iâd came. Once we were able to walk side by side I asked, âSo who are we following?â
âAlex Martin.â I didnât realise my fingers had clenched into fists until he extracted his hand and wrapped his arm loosely around my waist instead.
âI take it youâve heard of him.â
âUnfortunately.â I bit back on voicing my thoughts about him. He was a high stakes investor and ruthless housing developer. Most of his âprojectsâ involved making people homeless to construct high rise apartments that cost more than my annual salary. Each. It shouldnât have surprised me that he might be involved with Rivera. He seemed to thrive on the suffering of others.
âIf that makes you uncomfortable itâs not too late to go home.â
âIâm not. Iâm annoyed. Why does it always come down to rich men looking to get richer?â
âRule number one, never make assumptions about a target.â Glancing at him from the corner of my eye I watched him for a beat. His tone had been light but something had underlined it. Dropping my gaze back to the surrounding area I took in where we were.
âOK, so where are we starting? Whatâs our plan?â
âItâs almost 2pm, heâll be having a late lunch at an Italian place not far from here.â
âDo I want to know how you got that information?â
âIâm not a basic thug, I can investigate without punching someone,â he bristled. I placed my hand on his arm forcing him to stop walking.
âThat isnât what I meant. I meant âdo I want to know why you already have information on himâ. What else has he done that I might not already know about?â
âOh.â He removed his hand from me and sheepishly scratched at his neck. âSorry. This whole situation has got me on edge.â Taking his wrist I guided him to the closest doorway before we got trampled by the afternoon rush.
âI understand. Just give me the benefit of the doubt from now on. Iâm not here to criticise you, Iâm here to help anyway I can.â
He looked at me with a slight frown for a minute before shaking his head.
âWhat is it?â I insisted.
âYouâre taking this punishment really well.â
âPunishment?â
Another frown. âYou do remember the trouble you caused the boss right?â
âIâd say it was the other way about since he ruined my plan, and got me shot.â With a startled laugh and a disbelieving shake of his head he motioned for me to start walking again.
âHe has no idea what heâs gotten himself into,â you caught him mumble.
***
The restaurant wasnât what Iâd been expecting. It had the typical rustic charm and food but for someone like Alex Martin it was way too down market. I picked up the menu, torn between the options. Iâd never managed a full meal on a stakeout before. I usually got dragged away mid bite to follow a target. Watching Martin settle into his seat and order a bottle of wine I took a risk.
âIâll have a pizza, please.â Joe settled on a salad of some type, smiling politely at the waitress.
We sat opposite each other at a window table while Martin was as far into the restaurant as he could get.
Linking my fingers together on the table I shifted my gaze out to the street.
âYou said youâd been working for him for a while. Why did you start?â
âWeâre on a date and you want to talk about another man,â he huffed jokingly. I threw him a withering look.
âYou said yourself, youâre not a basic thug but,â I waved a hand at his toned body,â you could have been.â
âWe have a history,â he admitted. I waited for him to elaborate but he simply leaned back, eyes tracking around the room casually.
âOne youâre not going to tell me.â I finally answered for him.
An unapologetic shrug. âBusiness is business, and heâs the boss.â The words brokered no argument. Eyes narrowing I realised that this was going to be a lot more difficult than Iâd expected. I almost smiled at how heâd effortlessly deflected me
âWhat about you?â he asked.
âWhat about me?â
He crossed his arms, getting comfortable. âFrom what I could find you were caught once. What made you start again, and more importantly what made you want to go on a suicide mission?â Without shades hiding them his green eyes bored into me, analysing my every move.
I picked up my napkin, taking time to spread it out in my lap before meeting his gaze again.
âI was caught once. That doesnât mean I ever stopped.â
He opened his mouth to ask another question but the waitress cut him off delivering our food. I cast a glance at Martinâs table. He was making quick work of his wine. At this rate heâd have the bottle finished before his main arrived.
Joe waited until Iâd taken my first bite before questioning me again.
âYou didnât have any other option,â he assumed. I didnât answer. Not saying anything, letting him work out the story he wanted, was safer than spinning an elaborate one Iâd trip myself up on later down the line. I took a long sip of my water, eyes locked with his.
âYouâve already broken your first rule,â I tutted. His cheek twitched as he fought back a smile before digging into his meal.
It was another hour before Martin go up to leave, stumbling slightly. Joe waived over the waitress to pay while I watched Martin head towards the door. His companion grudgingly held him up, teetering in her heels as she took his weight. When I reached for my bag Joe shook his head. Digging out his phone he made a call.
âHeâs heading into the hotel now.â He paused, listening intently. You couldnât hear the other side of the conversation but you knew from his tone it was Holland on the line.
âYes, boss.â Disconnecting he eyed me carefully. âHe wants him questioned. Tonight.â I instantly wished I hadnât had such a large meal as my stomach roiled with unease. Iâd done this before I reminded myself. This time it would be Joe doing all the work. I could handle that. Nodding I let him lead me out of the restaurant.
Crossing the street after Martin Joe dipped his head. âRemember, you can walk away at any time. You donât have to sit through whatâs going to happen.â
âIâll be OK,â I reassured him. He gave me a searching look before relinquishing.
âWhen we get into the lobby Iâll follow him to his room. Take the stairs down to the parking garage and wait for me there.â
âGot it.â
Stepping through the doors Joe made a show of leaving me as he jogged to the elevator.
âIâll be back in two minutes, babe. Iâll meet you at the car.â
I headed for the stairwell, watching as he managed to slide into the elevator just as it was closing.
I didnât know how he planned on kidnapping Martin, that was probably for the best, but a little more information about how he planned to get out of here with him would have been appreciated. I followed the stairs down into the garage and waited.
It only took fifteen minutes for him to appear. He had Martinâs arm draped over his shoulder as he gripped onto his torso, hauling his body out of the elevator. I hurriedly joined him, realising he was out cold.
A clink of keys and the lights on a dark Mercedes flared.
âPop the trunk,â he instructed. I rushed ahead of him, getting it open and grabbing Martinâs feet as Joe stuffed him into the small space. With a resolute click the trunk closed.
âHow long will he be out?â
âLong enough to get where weâre going.â
âWhich is?â
He shifted uncomfortably. âI canât tell you, but I can take you with me if you wear this.â He slipped a black eye mask emblazoned with the hotel name out of his back pocket.
hi! hope you are safe, i came across ur page & i LOOOOVE your Liar fic, please make a part 2 (or a series HAHAHA)! <3 (and please give us a happy ending)
Hey! I am, I hope you are too đ Thank you so much đ„° I'm totally overwhelmed at how many people want a 2nd part, its blown my mind! I have started it so we'll see where it goes. I'll see what I can do on the happy ending front but no promises because I am living for the heartbreak angst right now haha
