The Dark Side: A Mafia Romance Thriller (Morozov Mafia Series Book 1)

3. Truth

Jolie rested on her hands and knees, scrubbing the blood off the floor. Though she had been assured someone was coming in the morning, waiting around wasn”t an option. The longer the blood sat, the more her anxiety rose.

Jolie wasn”t immune to the chaos she had endured. It was slowly sinking in, and no amount of disregard could keep it from surfacing. Jolie came from the suburbs of the country. Which was different from the suburbs of the city. Suburbs in the city were wealthy, with their expensive cars and ten-bedroom houses. The country”s suburbs were more upscale trailer parks—not dangerous or ghetto, but still making it paycheck to paycheck. A neighborhood watch patrolled the area, keeping teenagers from causing any damage to their old white picket fences and rusted cars that tended to have no alarms.

When Jolie told her parents she wanted to move into the city, they used every guilt trip they could muster, but Jolie was determined. She wanted to help underprivileged kids; it had been her passion since she was young enough to understand the homeless who lived slightly down the road.

She had been in the city all summer, acclimating to the harsh society, and was only a month into teaching.

Now, the dreaded ”I told you so” was in her future. Did she try to keep this incident from her parents? She doubted that was possible. Even now, her hand itched for the phone to tell her mom everything that had happened. She didn”t keep secrets from her parents, even when it got her in trouble.

But maybe this one needed to be left out.

Jolie left her parents” house at twenty-three, trying to find a spark to life, and yet, being in the middle of a shootout wasn”t precisely what she was looking for.

Jolie squealed and fell when a knock sounded on her door. She held a hand to her chest, her heart racing in terror. The beginning of PTSD was already set in motion. Jolie looked at the time; it was nearly three in the morning.

”Who is it?” she yelled from her seat.

”Tampa Police.”

Her eyes widened, and she stared at the blood-smeared ground. She had barely begun to clean and only managed to smear it into a pink circle.

”Hold on,” she replied, glancing around, panicking. Jolie peeled off her gloves as she stood, jumped over the area of blood, and grabbed her blanket off the couch, wrapping it around her. No one else was going to notice her braless attire.

Jolie opened the door just enough for her to slide through and shut it tight behind her. She smiled sheepishly at the two uniformed officers in front of her. She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. ”Hi.” She scanned the hallway and was surprised there were no streaks of blood along the floor.

”Ma”am.” Jolie snapped her eyes up. ”Sorry for the late call, but were you in the shootout that took place three hours ago at Salem’s Pharmacy?”

”A shootout? What?”

The two officers glanced at each other out of annoyance. ”We have you on their security camera.”

Jolie”s face heated up. ”Oh, yeah, that shootout, yep.” She wasn”t always a good liar, but not for the lack of trying.

”We also have you talking to two of the assailants.”

”No, I don”t know them.”

”Why did you leave the store with them?”

”They helped me out.”

”They helped you? Or you helped them?”

”How could I help them?”

”You mind if we come in?”

Jolie stiffened and quickly made something up. ”Normally, I wouldn”t, but um—my dishwasher broke, and I haven”t had time to clean, so…”

”Ma”am, you understand that harboring a fugitive is against the law?”

”Yes.”

One police officer raised a piece of paper. ”If you are in danger, nod.”

Jolie quickly shook her head. ”No, I”m fine. I live here alone. Really, I just don”t want anyone to see my mess. I didn”t know them. I was scared, and the little girl was scared, so I walked her out, handed her to them, and left.”

”You left a crime scene.”

That sounded bad. Jolie quickly added, ”I”m still in shock.”

They clearly weren”t convinced. ”We”d like you to come down to the station for further questioning.”

”Sure, sure. Tomorrow. I have school to teach in the morning. But after, sure.”

They gave her a card, and when she reached for it, she noticed the red tint on her hand. She snapped it back. The cop nodded to her hand. ”Hurt yourself?”

”Just a little.”

”There”s a medic downstairs. Why don”t we escort you?”

”I”m fine. Band-aid worthy.”

With no further questions, they walked down the hallway, glancing back at her as if she was going to cry out for help at any moment. She waved pleasantly and slipped back inside, locking the door closed. ”Oh, dog water,” she cursed.

Jolie slid down her door, wrapping her arms around her legs. ”Why lie?” she asked herself. ”Why? They are mobsters. You just lied about the mob!” Jolie cried, dropping her head to her knees. ”This can”t be real,” she moaned.

Jolie was a zombie as she walked into the school the following day. She hadn”t slept. With every soft noise, she feared the mob was coming back to execute her. Wasn”t that what the mob did? Kill people? Why not kill her? She”s a nobody. They could get rid of her body by dropping her in the ocean. Why did she have to live near water?

Jolie sat at her desk, barely blinking. She was going to tell the police the truth. The police could protect her, right? Or did the mob own them, too? There was that police officer that came in; he was a friend of the drug dealers. If she told the truth, they”d come after her.

”Miss Bell?”

Jolie flinched, blinking. All her kindergarteners sat in their chairs, staring at her. They fidgeted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do. She forced a smile. ”Morning, class.”

Jolie pretended the best she could. They did art projects, but someone dropped their plate of paint, and it slapped on the ground, spraying like a bag of chips blown apart by a bullet. When she got down on the floor, scrubbing the ground, the color played tricks on her, flashing a bright red, like the blood soaking her home. She held her fingers out before her face, blinking, and the dark red transformed to purple.

The students were staring at her again.

Jolie got up on her feet. ”Excuse me. Keep working hard, children.”

Jolie went next door and asked the teacher to watch over her classroom before she darted to the women”s bathroom. She splashed water on her face, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her brown eyes were bloodshot, with black bags beneath them. She blinked, trying to force the exhaustion and fear from her face. She pressed a wet hand against her mouth, nausea bubbling in her stomach. The fear she had shoved down seemed to take this moment to reignite, and when a toilet flushed, she dropped to the ground, pushing herself under the sink.

A tentative hand reached out. She screeched but saw a little kid looking down at her. ”Are you okay?”

Embarrassment crept up her cheeks as she smiled. ”Of course. Just taking a break.” Jolie slithered out and stood up, forcing a bright grin. ”You wash your hands?” she asked before she ran out the door.

As soon as school ended, Jolie didn”t stick around to mingle with the other teachers in the lounge. Out of all the days to attempt to make friends, today was not a good day. And besides, the police wanted to talk to her. They had called her cell phone four times and left three text messages. She couldn”t avoid them any further.

She got in her car, threw her bag to the side, and sighed.

A knock bolted her in her seat. A young man stood outside her door in a white dress shirt and black pants. She tried to put her window down, but the car wasn”t on. With an aggravated sigh, she opened the door, peering up at the guy. ”May I help you?”

He took ahold of the door and pulled it wider, holding out his hand for her. ”Come with me.”

”I”m sorry, who are you?”

He ignored her, snatching her arm and pulling her out.

”Excuse me! Let go.” She stumbled, yanking, but when his hold only tightened, she panicked, stomping on his foot. He groaned, releasing her, and she put her hands on her hips. ”Who do you think you are?”

”Miss Bell.”

Jolie turned to find the mob boss, Adrik, standing beside a black limo, with a humorous smile on his lips. He looked like a bachelor on that stupid TV series, dressed in formal attire. She despised him for it.

”You should teach your son some manners.”

The man stifled a cackle, scratching his temple. ”Do I look like I can have an eighteen-year-old son?”

Jolie didn”t want to tell him what he looked like. She was pretty sure he knew already, and he was baiting her.

”Can we talk?” Adrik gestured to the limo.

She eyed it suspiciously, glancing around the schoolyard. Kids scattered along the grass and sidewalk, eyes on her in curiosity.

Witnesses.

Feeling safer, Jolie stepped forward. Adrik held his hand for her, but she disregarded him as she climbed into the luxurious vehicle.

All fear faded at the awe-inspired sight. She had never been in a limo. She almost had the chance to go to prom in one, but then her boyfriend at the time decided his brother”s beat-up jeep was a better alternative. She arrived at prom with her hair in complete shambles and spent the first half hour in the bathroom trying to fix it.

Adrik sat next to her, unbuttoning his jacket. Everything about him was perfect. The way his black hair was gelled. The tattoos were strategically placed. The tailored suit, the gold cuffs, the Rolex watch—all part of perfection. Altogether, he wore more money than Jolie made in a year.

She unconsciously looked down at her clothes. She wore a dress that was covered in paint, and the worst was that she had made it herself and thought it was pretty cool.

We are from two different planets.

”Would you like a drink?” He moved for a wine glass.

Jolie wasn”t going to fall for any charms. ”What do you want?”

If she knew anything about men like him, which she read enough books to have a hint of the kind of man he was, he”d think she was quickly thwarted. And he may be right. He was not someone Jolie wanted to mess with.

”I heard you have an interview with an FBI agent today.”

”So?”

”What do you intend to say?”

”The truth.”

”And what”s your version of the truth?”

”Her version of the truth.” It was a subtle hint that what she saw and what the police needed to know were two different things. ”What do you want me to say?”

”What you said last night to the police was good enough. Simply keep with your story.”

Her body stiffened, and she clenched her hands around her dress. ”How do you know what I said last night?”

”Miss Bell, you saved my daughter. I am grateful. Take my generosity and my advice. Repeat your story, and all will be well.”

As soon as he got a nervous head nod, Adrik got out of the car and held his hand out for her. She wasn”t stupid enough to deny him now that she was beginning to understand how dangerous he was. She allowed him to help her to her feet.

Jolie stood in front of him. Their height difference was noticeable; he was six feet, and she was barely over five. He looked down at her. She was sure that intimidation came naturally to him. Or maybe it wasn”t intimidation she saw in his eyes but something more treacherous. Something she didn”t want in her life.

Jolie bowed her head. ”Stay away from me,” she ordered, and hurried away with her pounding heart.