Page 13 of A Wife’s Duty

Boone was nothing like she imagined. Her mother and sister had warned her that he was an animal. On her wedding night, she was to lay there and let him do his thing. That was what all men wanted—a willing, submissive wife.

Boone hadn’t done that. They had not even stayed the night at the wedding venue. There had been no bloody sheets. Boone wouldn’t have any of that. He was not an animal.

Her family was so very wrong when it came to Boone.

****

B oone sat in the office trailer and looked toward the boss, Jimmy O’Cara, part of the Irish mob doing business between the Bratva and the Bonaldis. He wondered if either family knew the man was double-crossing them both.

There was a shipment of girls locked in a container.

It had arrived last night. He’d gotten the news and came down here right away.

He left his wife’s bed after watching her sleep.

The excitement in her eyes at the prospect of going to campus was somewhat infectious.

He had mentioned letting Frank go with her as a precaution.

After Bonaldi’s attempt on his life through Leandro, he had upped his game in payback.

So far, the drugs Bonaldi liked to move had gone missing, conveniently found in local law enforcement’s parking lot.

There was a big newsreel about it. He’d been the one to remove the drug dealers and send the dope straight to the source.

It had made headline news, so all the dirty cops didn’t have time to cover it up.

“What the fuck are you doing in my fucking joint?” Jimmy asked.

The two men with him pulled their weapons.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” Boone said. “I click this button, and this whole joint blows up.”

“You’re not crazy enough to do that,” Jimmy said. “You’re inside.”

“Yeah, but you see, between you and me, I don’t give a shit about living or dying, and if that means I get to take out scum like you, I’m all for it.” He looked Jimmy straight in the eyes. “I’m not afraid to die. Are you?”

Jimmy was already sweating. He had a thickening waist, receding hairline, and chubby fingers, which the gold rings he wore seemed to enhance. Those were the things he noticed about him.

“Fine. Fine. Put your guns down, boys.”

“What is the deal you have with Bonaldi?”

“I’m not telling you a fucking thing.”

Two bullets, and his goons were dead. Their bodies fell to the floor and Jimmy looked panicked.

“Now, you don’t have to save face and pretend you’re in charge here. Let’s face it, I could have killed you the moment you walked in here, but I have a motto. I give people a choice. You had a choice just to comply, answer my questions, and it would have saved these men. You didn’t.”

“What the fuck?” Jimmy asked.

“Now, you tell me what I want to know,” he said.

“Who the fuck are you?”

He fired the gun, and Jimmy screamed, collapsing to the ground. The noise he made was so damn grating on the nerves.

“I can do this all day long. Do you have any idea how many times I can shoot you, before you bleed to death?”

He got to his feet, rounded the desk, and perched on the end, gun still loaded, and waiting.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jimmy said.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with. Just by doing this, you’re starting a war.”

“War?” Boone asked.

“Yes, an all-out war, and trust me, you’ll be at the top of the fucking list. They fucking hate it when people meddle in their business.”

“Does the name Boone Grinder mean anything to you?” he asked.

Jimmy went paler. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, well, between you and me, you’re looking right at him.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Please, look, just take the girls. All the plans and shit are in the desk. Just keep me out of it.”

“That is an entirely different tune you’re taking,” Boone said.

“I’ve fucking heard of you. You’re a fucking freak. No one knows what shit you are into. People that cross you end up fucking dead. I’ve got a wife and kids, a family that needs me. I’m just the middleman. The guy that gets shit done.”

Boone went to the desk, opened it, and sure enough, there was the paperwork. He saw Valdez’s and Bonaldi’s name.

Flicking through the shipment containers, there were girls and drugs and ... kids. What the ever-loving fuck?

Boone also saw a couple of cops’ names kept coming up, and he wasn’t happy. Cops needed to learn to respect the badge, and that was happening here. They were exploiting it, and women and children’s lives were at stake. Rolling up the paperwork, he rounded the desk.

Jimmy had crawled across the floor and leaned up against the wall.

“You have a wife you beat repeatedly, and she has tried to run from you at least six times. You drag her back, beat her some more, put her in the hospital, and pay the cops to look the other way.” He lifted his arm and glanced down at the time.

“Right now, she is already starting a new life with the kids, away from you.”

“What?” Jimmy asked.

“It would seem your wife would take any lifeline granted to her, all she had to do was make sure you got to work on time.” Boone smiled at him.

“The moment you walked into this office, your life was over. The choices you made have led you on this path. I didn’t need to give you those choices, you made them on your own. ”

He fired his gun, killing Jimmy with a bullet to the head.

Jimmy’s wife would be free. Boone had taken the money Jimmy had stashed secretly—a couple of million dollars—which was now the means for her to start a new life. That was all she wanted.

Boone got to his feet and made his way out of the trailer. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed the one cop he knew wasn’t dirty, giving him the directions. He made his way toward the storage container. The few men he encountered didn’t stand a chance.

He broke into the container, and the girls were able to stumble out, gasping for air. It was nearly twelve and already starting to get hot.

This was no longer his concern. He heard the sounds of sirens in the background, and it was time for him to leave. Boone always had an escape plan, and he took it, making his way to his parked car, pocketing the details he would need.

“You know, if you’re going to bring me along, you might as well use me,” Ronald said.

“Too many men would have spooked them.”

“And you think your crazy ass makes them feel all welcoming?” Ronald asked.

“It was simple. None of them were making it out alive.” He pulled away from their spot, made his way onto the main road, passing the siren-blaring police cars, as they went in the opposite direction.

Pulling back onto a small street, he parked the car and brought out the details he’d taken from Jimmy O’Cara.

“You know, this is going to come back to you, if you’re not careful.”

“I’m not trying to be careful,” he said.

“What about Lucia?”

“Lucia is safe.”

“Look, I remember you, Boone. You don’t like to go fast. You like to take your time, but between the mayor and now taking out Jimmy, not to mention the trap you’ve got set for Leandro, this is moving fast.”

He looked toward Ronald. “You got a problem with me setting this in motion?”

Ronald sighed. “I’ve got no problem at all. I know this is a piece of cake for the Boone I know.”

“But?”

“The old Boone didn’t have liability in a wife.

This is an entirely different setup, and you know it.

She is ... you’re different around her. You’re taking her places.

You’re not sticking to your own plan of keeping her inside, locked up, where she would be safe.

She’s currently at a fucking campus. She’s a Valdez, Boone. She doesn’t know what freedom is.”

“Are you telling me how to do my job?”

“No, I’m telling you with this one, it’s different. Lucia is not part of the job. You’re treating her as your wife.”

“She is my wife,” Boone said.

“And that is my point exactly. You have a wife now you must consider. Going around killing big-name players like Jimmy comes with repercussions.”

Boone looked at Ronald. “If you’re scared, leave, but I started something and I’m going to end it. I trust Lucia. She made her choice.”

“Women have the power to magically change their choices. Remember that.”

He pointed at the paper. “You read that, and tell me what I just did wasn’t worth it.”

Ronald rolled his eyes, took the document from him, and read it. “What the fuck?”

“They have a warehouse of kids they are using for slave labor, and then the pretty ones they’re selling to the highest bidder. Kids, Ronald. Tell me I’m moving too fast now.”

“Fuck,” Ronald said. “Let’s go. We can’t leave this shit.”

Boone turned over the ignition of his car and took off, heading toward the warehouse that had been mentioned as a place to send a certain shipment.

These were sick fucks. He always knew they were, but now it was confirmed.

This wasn’t moving too fast. This was moving at the right pace.