Wife of a Mob Boss Ch. 03 - Sex Stories

Wife of a Mob Boss Ch. 03

... haphazardly toward him, which got him thinking defensively, not offensively. His elevation was great for firing down on a target but terrible for cover, as he had none. Slowing to a halt, I blew out my breath as my sights steadied on the target, and I fired a quick burst of rounds that trembled his body and made him go limp.

Two more men fired from atop the ship’s deck as I reached the loading plank that zig-zagged onto the ship. Refusing to slow so that they could launch early and get away, I sprinted up the plank with bullets ricocheting off the metal railing beside me as I ran. I emptied my bullets into my gun at the two men and drew my pistol as I reached the top. I fired three shots into the first man’s chest, then dove and rolled to my side as I put five more into the second guy.

Standing, I reloaded my pistol and ran for the bridge. The cabin light that lit up the window showed two men scrambling in a panic. The horn blared, and I felt the ship begin to move as they shoved us off the dock early. I didn’t care. I needed to find her. That was my only focus.

The bridge was locked. I took a step backward and fired five rounds into the porthole window, then used the butt of the gun to shatter it. Reaching inside, I undid the latch.

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! I’m just the captain!” the shaggy black-haired man yelled in broken English. His Greek accent confirmed I was on the right boat.

“Where is she?” I yelled as I approached the man, my pistol aimed ...

... between his eyes.

Tears dripped down his cheeks as the captain’s knees wobbled. With a trembling hand, he pointed down the second walkway, heading towards the belly of the boat. “44A-152, next to the captain’s quarters,” he whimpered. I stormed down the walkway, leaving the man alive for now.I might need him. Following the signs, I went upstairs and took a quick corner, only to walk into a barrage of gunfire. Sharp pain cut my shoulder and chest, and I quickly went numb as I focused on the fight.

Two shooters were at the next crossing, peppering my location with bullets. Dropping to the ground, I grunted as I felt my shoulder scream in pain. Taking slow, concentrated shots, I fired rounds into their shins, knees, belly, and head. Stumbling from side to side, I worked my way to my feet and groaned as I glanced at the gunshot wound to my shoulder.

“Michael!” Marlene shouted.

My eyes became alive as her voice was like a shot of adrenaline. It sounded distant and close at the same time.

“Ma… Marlene!” I panted, ejecting one magazine and preparing to load another.

“Michael, look out!” Marlene shouted. Her voice was yelling from the next room up the hall.

Without warning, a handgun appeared next to my head. Smacking it to the side, I felt the rush of wind from the bullet buzzing my face as he fired. The man with black hair slicked back tried to fire again, but I abandoned my gun to grab his. Twisting back and forth in the skinny corridor, we battled for the weapon. ...