Tangled Web: A Small Town Romance (The Cortell Brothers Book 6)

by Giulia Lagomarsino

  “Perfect,” she smiled. “I actually have something I want to get done, but I need some help.”

  “Lead the way,” I smiled.

  Watching her walk toward the kitchen was like watching a fine piece of art work in a museum. I sighed, watching her sexy ass sway from side to side and the swish of her hair over her shoulders, it was amazing. She had one of those bodies that was just perfect in every way.

  She peeked over her shoulder and flushed slightly when she caught me staring at her ass. “Are you coming?”

  “I really hope so,” I muttered, following her into the kitchen.

  “So…I want to paint today.”

  I looked around the kitchen, taking in everything Eric’s crew had done. It looked amazing. Wide rustic boards ran along the floor, giving it a very farmhouse feel, and the ceiling was done with large, wood planks, crisscrossing the white ceiling beneath it. The cabinets were white to balance the dark tones throughout the room. New windows had been put in all along the sink, letting the bright light fill the room. He had also put one long shelf along the top of the windows, but I had no idea why. But the coolest part of the room was the oven set in the wall, surrounded by brick.

  “Did you design this or did Eric?”

  “Eric. I mean, I had a general idea of what I wanted, but he did all the rest.”

  I looked down at the paint cans and grinned. “You didn’t go with yellow,” I pointed out.

  “No,” she smiled. “I decided to stick with white.”

  “What are you putting up there?” I asked, pointing to the shelves.

  “Well, I wanted to put up blue and white plates. I saw it in a magazine and I just loved it. It’ll bring some color to the room without being overwhelming.”

  I nodded, seeing how it would all come together. “I like it.”

  “And then…” She took my arm and led me over to the pop out window with the window seat already built in. “He put in this bench seat that opens for storage, so I thought I would put a few blue pillows over here to add to the room.”

  “What kind of table will you use?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. That’s for another day.”

  “So, you want to paint today?”

  “Yep,” she grinned. “Eric wants to install the crown molding next week, so I told him I would do the painting.”

  “Why didn’t you just have him do it?”

  She shrugged. “I wanted to do something myself.”

  “Okay, let’s paint.”

  Lorelei

  After setting out the drop cloths and getting the paint and rollers set up, we were ready to start taping. I actually hated taping, but there was too much to do to leave it all to Andrew.

  “We’re going to lose the natural light soon,” Andrew said, pointing outside. “I didn’t expect it to actually snow so much.”

  I walked over next to him and looked outside with a sigh. “I love snow, but I wasn’t expecting a snowstorm like this.”

  “We usually don’t get them. I think I was a kid the last time we got a really good snowstorm. This will probably pass over.”

  “That’s not what Eric said. He was pretty sure this was going to be a bad one.”

  Andrew snorted. “Yeah, they always say the snow storm will be bad and then it ends up being a nothing burger.”

  “A nothing burger?”

  “Yeah, you know, it turns out to be no big deal at all.”

  I nodded, trying to hold back my laughter. Every once in a while, Andrew said these really odd phrases that I just didn’t understand, but I found it cute. I was quickly developing feelings for Andrew, something I promised myself wouldn’t happen. I had a job to finish, and he was getting in the way. What I had originally intended for him was morphing into a distraction I didn’t need. And distractions needed to be eliminated. I couldn’t let him interfere with my end goals.

  “We should get going,” I said, pulling myself from my thoughts.

  “I’ll start taping along the top of the cabinets and leave the lower stuff for you.”

  We worked in relative silence for the better part of an hour, but my fingers were starting to chill and I was cold. We were almost done taping, but we still had a lot of work to do, so I needed to warm up a little.

  I looked up at Andrew, walking on top of the counter to reach above the cabinets. “Hey, I’m gonna run upstairs and grab a sweatshirt.”

  “Yeah, no problem.”

  I ran upstairs and pulled a sweatshirt over my long-sleeved shirt. The chill in the house wouldn’t be gone until all the windows were replaced, but at the rate that winter was approaching, I wasn’t sure that could happen until winter was coming to a close. However, Eric assured me that they could replace the windows during the winter, and that it would actually save me money considering how bad the windows were.

  I shut my bedroom door and headed downstairs, but I was only halfway down when I heard a loud crash. Pausing on the stairs, I called out for Andrew, but he didn’t respond. I rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen, looking around, but I couldn’t see him.

  “Andrew?”

  Still nothing. I rushed further into the room, and then I saw his boot sticking out from behind the island. I ran around it and saw him lying on the ground, blood gushing from his head.

  “Oh my God!” I knelt down beside him and shook him slightly. “Andrew, are you okay?”

  He didn’t say anything. He just laid there, blood pooling under his head. I ran out of the room and grabbed a towel sitting in a laundry basket in the living room, then ran back to him. Lifting his head slightly, I saw that the blood was coming from the back of his head. I pressed it to the wound and immediately freaked the fuck out.

  This was so bad. I couldn’t have another man die on me. It would look so bad, especially while I was trying to get the funds for my trust released. Not to mention, and maybe I should have thought about this first, I actually liked Andrew, and the thought of something happening to him had me panicking. I snatched my phone off the counter and tried to dial 9-1-1, but something was wrong with the connection. I glanced outside and noticed that the wind had picked up quite a bit. Snow was blowing hard outside, so hard that I could barely see the trees anymore.

  But I couldn’t just leave him on the floor. He could have a serious head injury. I couldn’t call his brother to help or even a nurse to tell me what to do. I would have to drive him to the hospital. I got up and ran to the front door, ready to rush out and start the car to warm it up while I somehow lifted Andrew and got him outside. But when I flung the door open, I knew that wouldn’t work. The snow drifts were so bad already that there was no way I would get down my driveway. How had it gotten so bad in only an hour?

  Shutting the door, I wracked my brain, trying to come up with a solution to my problem. What if he died? What if he lived, but had severe brain damage? I rushed back over to him and shook him again. This time, he roused slightly. I let out a sigh of relief and shook him again.

  “Andrew, can you hear me?”

  His eyes fluttered open and he groaned. “What the hell happened?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  Oh, shit, did that mean he had brain damage? Fuck, this was so bad.

  He shook his head slightly. “The last thing I remember is talking about painting.”

  He tried to sit up, but I pushed him back down. “Don’t get up. Your head is bleeding.”

  He tried to touch his head, but I stopped him, pulling the towel away slightly to look. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the bleeding had slowed.

  “Is it bad?”

  “I have no idea. It’s not bleeding as much now, but it was bad for a few minutes.”

  “Do I need to go to the hospital?”

  “Probably, but there’s no chance of that happening.”

  He looked almost scared for a minute, so I tried to reassure him. “The storm kicked up. The phone isn’t working and the driveway is drifted over. I could probably dig us out, but
the driveway is so long that it would probably drift over again before I finished. But the good news is, we have plenty of firewood chopped.”

  He swallowed hard, almost like he was resigning himself to something and nodded slightly. “Do you know how to do stitches?”

  I had only ever done stitches one time, and that was when my dad cut himself on a broken bottle of alcohol. The only reason I hadn’t taken him to the hospital was because we had no money, and we already owed so much in bills, I was sure they would turn us away.

  “I have a first aid kit, but I’ve never done stitches on someone’s head.”

  “Well, I guess we should give it a try, right?” he laughed. “Better than bleeding out.”

  “I doubt you’re going to bleed out, but we do need to close the wound.”

  I held out my hand, which he hesitantly took. I didn’t understand. Was he worried about looking weak in front of me? He had a head wound, for Christ’s sake. I helped him to his feet and he swayed slightly, before shaking it off and walking into the living room with me. I helped him sit down and then rushed out of the room to grab my first aid kit from upstairs.

  I was shaking as I gathered the supplies. The memories of doing this to my father were sitting right on the edge of my brain, trying to fling me back into that time. I stood at the sink for a moment, taking deep breaths, trying not to let the memories invade, but they inevitably did.

  I laid in bed, listening for any sounds my dad would make. I heard him stumble into the house about fifteen minutes ago, but then it got quiet. I hoped he had just passed out somewhere, but I wasn’t brave enough to go check. When he got like this, it was best to stay locked up in my room. Sometimes, I thought about what it would be like if he just passed out and didn’t wake up, but then I imagined being the one to find him. I had already seen my mother dead in her chair. I didn’t want to find my father dead also. I didn’t think I could handle that.

  Something crashed in the other room, followed by the sound of breaking glass. I closed my eyes and tried to block it out.

  “Lorelei!” he shouted. I heard his heavy footsteps rambling toward my room and I stared at the door. “Lorelei!”

  The doorknob jiggled, but didn’t open. I had Callum install a lock on my door when I told him how bad Dad was getting when he was drunk. He looked at me sadly, but there wasn’t much he could do. He was only ten years older than me, and he had his own problems to deal with. I was just happy that he did this small thing for me.

  “Lorelei!” he shouted again. I buried my face in the covers and pretended I wasn’t here. “Girl, get out here. I’m bleeding all over the fucking place!”

  My eyes flew open and I stared at the door. He was bleeding. What if I didn’t go out there? Would he bleed out all over the floor? I could just hide in here and wait for him to pass out…

  Throwing off my covers, I carefully made my way over to the door and listened for him on the other side. When I didn’t hear anything, I unlocked the door and cracked it just an inch. It flew open, sending me flying backward into my dresser. The air gushed out of me, and my lungs seized in fear. He walked in, towering over me as he held his hand.

  “The next time I fucking call you, you’d better answer the fucking door! Now stitch me up.”

  I nodded quickly and scrambled to my feet, running for the bathroom to get whatever I could find to patch him up. I didn’t see anything but bandaids, which wouldn’t help me very much. I found a needle and thread in my mother’s sewing box and then went into the kitchen and grabbed another bottle of whiskey off the counter. The remnants of the last one were all over the floor.

  “Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing?” my father spat.

  “I h-have to pour it over your wound so it doesn’t get infected.”

  He glared at me, but took a seat at the table, resting his hand on the table. With shaky hands, I threaded the needle and prepared to get to work. I had no idea what I was doing, but I had to try if I didn’t want to get beaten to death. Uncapping the whiskey, I poured some over the wound and he hissed, yanking his hand away. I flinched back, sure that he was going to hit me, but it never came. Peeking at him through half-closed eyes, I took a deep breath and began.

  I worked as quickly as I could, but I could feel his anger increasing by the minute. In my haste to finish, the needle slipped from my grasp and stabbed his palm. I didn’t even have time to move. His fist slammed against my face, knocking me out of my chair. Despite his drunken state, he was stronger than ever and if I didn’t get out of the house, I might not be alive in the morning.

  I scrambled across the kitchen floor, the shards of glass digging into my hands and knees as I tried to reach the door. I stood and jerked the back door open, ready to run out into the night when he grabbed my hair and yanked me back. I screamed loudly, terrified that this was the last time I would step foot outside the house. He pulled me back inside as I clawed at the door frame trying to grab onto anything to stop me from being dragged back inside. I screamed again, but when he tossed me into the cabinets, my screams stopped and I laid there, terrified and shaking.

  I saw the first boot coming at my stomach and tried to curl into myself, but I was too late. The second time hurt even more, but it was the third kick that had me close to blacking out. I took a quick second to pray that my death was quick and I wouldn’t feel any more pain. At least it would all be over.

  But it never came. A loud thud next to me had me prying my eyes open. My father laid next to me, his eyes wide open, staring sightlessly at me. I shoved myself up, scooting away from him and then finally looked up. Matthew stood there, stone-faced and glaring at my father. A cast iron skillet hung in his hand and he was breathing hard. When he finally looked at me, his face softened and he knelt down beside me.

  “Are you okay?”

  I couldn’t say anything. My whole body hurt and my thoughts were all jumbled. Matthew had just killed for me. He had killed my father, and now the police would come. They would take him away from me. He was my only friend, the only person in the world that really cared about me.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked, tears leaking down my face.

  He grabbed me and pulled me into his arms. I ignored the pain in my stomach and clung to him with everything I had. Tears spilled down my face as I sobbed against his shirt.

  “Hey, it’s okay now.”

  “It’s not okay. You killed him. What are we going to do? If the police show up, they’ll take you away!”

  “Hey, it’s fine.” He pulled back, forcing me to look into his eyes. “I promise. Everything will be okay. I’ll take care of the body.”

  “How?” I asked, completely freaking out. “How can we get rid of him without anyone finding out?”

  He thought for a moment and then said, “I’ll take him out to the mine.”

  “But it was shut down. We can’t go on that land.”

  “Exactly. It was shut down. No one goes there anymore. I’ll take his body and drop him down there.”

  “You can’t possibly do that by yourself.”

  “I’ll need your help. Can you do that?”

  I looked over at my father, saw the fat lump of a lifeless body and knew that I could. He didn’t deserve to be buried properly, no matter what he used to mean to me. All that mattered now was protecting Matthew.

  “Let’s do this.”

  I shook away the thoughts that still lingered, squeezing the sides of the sink as I tried to gain control. It didn’t matter what happened in the past. I did what I had to, for both my parents. Looking up in the mirror, I didn’t see the same girl that lived in that small house in West Virginia. I only saw a woman that would fight for everything, no matter the costs.

  Grabbing what I needed, I headed back downstairs to help Andrew. I put a smile on my face and forgot about the memories that haunted me. They were in the past, and they needed to stay there.

  Andrew

  I sat in the living room, holding the towel to my
head as I leaned back on the couch. I couldn’t remember what happened. One minute we were talking about taping, and the next…Why couldn’t I remember? Obviously, I had hit my head pretty hard, but not knowing was the worst part. I couldn’t trust anything she said. For all I knew, she didn’t want me to remember.

  But that didn’t make sense. If she was trying to kill me, and she hadn’t succeeded, why didn’t she just finish me off when I was unconscious? Because then it wouldn’t look like an accident, I thought. If I didn’t remember what happened, that would only work in her favor. I needed to try and remember.

  There was just one thing that was bothering me, as much as I was terrified that she was trying to kill me, I couldn’t figure out why. She didn’t have access to my accounts. We weren’t married, so there was no reason for her to kill me. But the close calls I’d had so far around her made me rethink that. One close call was understandable, but this many?

  The wrench, the tub, and now this… How many more close calls would I have in her company? The longer I laid there, the more I considered risking my life in the snowstorm. I could drive out of here. I might freeze to death after driving into a snow drift, but at least I wouldn’t be another notch on her belt.

  The lights started to flicker and I cursed myself for not leaving sooner. If the power was going out, it meant the storm was getting really bad. I crossed my fingers and made a wish that everything would be fine. But then the lights flickered again and the power was gone. The only thing lighting the room was the fireplace.

  “Andrew!” a strangled cry came from upstairs. I shot off the couch, despite my reservations about the woman, and swayed as I ran toward the stairs. Damn, she had me all wrapped up in knots. I shouldn’t be worried about her, but that cry sounded like a scared kid, not a grown woman in a dark house. “Andrew!”

  I took the stairs two at a time, pushing through into the bathroom where I thought the cry came from. “Lorelei?”

  She didn’t answer, so I backed out and felt my way down the dark hallway pushing open doors as I went. I was just one room away from the master bedroom when I heard a small cry that sounded something like a wounded animal. I pushed the door open and squinted to see in the darkness.