by Sam Mariano
One hand moves in toward my face, caressing it as he says, “Never.”
Chapter Thirteen
Mia
“I can’t go with you.”
Colin raises a dark eyebrow, eyeing me up. “Excuse me?”
“I changed my mind.” I’m making Vince stay behind me because I’m afraid he’s going to get shot. I’m pretty sure Colin’s orders were to bring me here to dump Vince, then bring me back to the mansion. In the brief time I’ve known the guy, he doesn’t seem like someone who leaves a job unfinished.
The Irishman’s patience with me seems to be wearing thin. “Listen here, girlie. I’m not leavin’ ye here. Now, I think it’s high time ye get yer little ass back out to the car so I can take ye home.”
Everything about this hurts. It’s scary dealing with Colin because I don’t really know him. He’s not Adrian, he’s not familiar with our situation, and I’m terrified he’s going to hurt Vince.
I’m also terrified I’m going to hurt Mateo. He’s far from the most emotional person I’ve ever met, but we’ve just spent three wonderful days expressing actual feelings for one another, and now Vince is trapping me. I can’t tell Mateo Vince is trapping me, because I think he’s out of patience with him. Mateo also has a tendency to get the truth out of me, and if I tell him what Vince said, he’ll kill him.
So, I have to tell him I’ve changed my mind, and I just swore to him a few nights ago I’d never leave him.
I’m not just between a rock and a hard place; I’m stuck between two dangerous men, each capable of murder.
“This is my home. I know what Mateo told you, but that’s because I wanted it. It wasn’t supposed to be—”
“Ye can go out to the car and I can take ye back home, or I can call Mateo and tell him about yer change of heart. He can tell me to leave, if that’s yer wish.”
This makes my stomach sink, too. I feel like I’m being torn in every direction and they’re going to rip me apart—again. I can’t believe I feel like this again. I can’t believe I had Mateo in my arms, and I’m in this godforsaken position.
I wish I didn’t believe Vince. I wish I could imagine he’s just trying to scare me, that he wouldn’t try to kill Mateo. But he would. He despises Mateo. He’s not even wrong to despise Mateo. The memory of him sitting in Mateo’s dinner chair pops back up and makes me violently nauseous.
I don’t know how I get out of this. I lose either way. I sacrifice Vince or I risk Mateo—again. I can’t win, and I’m so tired of this fight.
“Please just leave, Colin.”
Sparing Vince an unkind look as he moves beside me, unwilling to hide behind me, Colin asks, “Did he threaten ye?”
I hold an arm out toward Vince protectively, wishing he would’ve just stayed behind me. No one’s going to shoot through me to get to him. “No. I told you, Vince isn’t violent.”
“Then why send ye with a bodyguard to dump him?” he asks, smoothly. “No one enjoys gettin’ dumped, but most people don’t require armed back-up to get the job done, do they?”
“I really just changed my mind,” I tell him, shaking my head. “I’m sorry. I know… I know Mateo won’t be thrilled, but that’s my problem, not yours. I just can’t do this.”
Colin sighs, and I’m pretty sure he firmly doesn’t like me by now. He mutters something I don’t understand, then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cell phone.
I know he’s going to call Mateo, and it makes me want to die. I don’t know how Mateo’s going to take this. Obviously he has Meg and he’ll be fine, but I can’t get that first night out of my head. I can’t stop seeing his face when he finally apologized for hurting me. Hearing his voice in my ear when he had me wrapped in his arms, giving me his tenderness. He told me he loved me, and now I’m telling him I can’t leave Vince. I finally had a taste of life with Mateo, and now I’m going to lose it.
These two psychos keep playing tug-of-war with me, and I’m the one who ends up thrown in the mud each time.
Colin is on the phone now. “Yeah, we have a problem.”
I turn back to Vince, my eyes faintly accusing. “This isn’t going to make him happy.”
“Let me count all the fucks I give about Mateo’s happiness,” he mutters back. “I’ll get back to you later with an exact number.”
“Yer new bird’s tryin’ to fly away,” Colin says into the phone. He listens for a minute, then he holds the phone out to me.
I shake my head, looking at it like it’ll bite me. “I can’t.”
Putting it back to his ear, he says, “Apparently she doesn’t want to talk to ya. Want me to put her over me shoulder and drag her home?” He pauses again, then holds the phone out to me again.
I finally take it, but I’ve never dreaded a phone call more in my life—not even when Mark had me at the hotel room. “I’m sorry,” I say, in lieu of a greeting. “I’m so sorry, Mateo. I just couldn’t do it.”
“Mia, what the hell is going on? Did he threaten you?”
I know I have to deny this. I know that no matter how much the sound of his voice hurts my heart, I can’t tell him that Vince threatened me, because I know he will kill him if I do. Vince has been such a headache to Mateo, it’s a miracle he’s not dead already. Threatening him, threatening all of us, that would be the final straw.
“He didn’t threaten me,” I say, the lie heavy on my tongue. “He… he hugged me.” That hurts even more, because it’s true. “And he comforted me. And he finally forgave me.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Mia,” Mateo says. I can almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose, losing his patience with my heart. “He hugged you? Seriously? No. Bullshit. You’re not that wishy-washy. You tell me what is going on or I’ll come there and find out for myself.”
The last thing I want is for him to come here. It’s difficult enough to try to convince him over the phone; I don’t stand a chance face-to-face. He’ll turn on his intimidation, or pull some other method out of his bag of tricks, and I’ll end up doing something unforgivable. Maybe he gets the truth out of me. Maybe I hurt him, and he hates me for it. I lose no matter what I do. I betray Mateo or I betray Vince. Only one of those betrayals comes with a murder, so I know which one I have to sell. “Is it so unfathomable that I just changed my mind? I know this is… horrible, and I’m so sorry to do this—”
“Yes, it is unfathomable, Mia. Because it’s not fucking true. You didn’t change your mind,” he says, steel in his voice. “You don’t get to change your mind. I own you, remember that? Remember last night? The night before? The night before that?”
I flush, even though nobody else can hear. My stomach sinks with the weight of those tender memories, with the knowledge that Vince is costing me the opportunity to make more with him. I struggle to hold back tears, but my voice shakes despite my best efforts. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is. You have Meg. You won’t be alone. And it’s not like this is… This doesn’t… We’ll still see each other. I just can’t leave. It’s too hard. I’m so sorry.”
I’m trying to think of a way to subtly tell him this doesn’t have to change everything between us. Maybe Vince won’t let me leave him, but if he’s going to trap me into a relationship, I’m damn sure not going to stay faithful. Maybe he won’t let me move back to the mansion, maybe I can’t go on romantic vacations like we talked about, or spend whole nights wrapped in his embrace, but I can still go over anytime. I can still be with Mateo, just not the way we wanted.
I can’t think of a way to express that in front of Vince, so I don’t. I’ll go to the mansion and talk to him tomorrow. He didn’t seem to have an issue with me being with Vince the first time, or since, so it stands to reason he’ll still be able to deal with it. Eventually Vince will get tired of being with a woman who’s in love with someone else and he’ll let me go. We just have to wait him out.
“Tell me you love him,” Mateo demands.
My aching heart skips a beat. I swallow. This is pure
“Okay. Now tell me you love him more than you love me.”
“Please don’t make me do that,” I say quietly, my face crumbling.
This is exactly why I can’t handle face-to-face. I won’t be able to say these things to him if I have to look at his face, into those hypnotic brown eyes. If he shows even the briefest flash of real pain, my resolve will crumble, and what will that mean for Vince?
I wish I could pause the world. Pause Mateo. I wish I had a sliver of actual fucking privacy to plead with Vince one more time to let me out of this thing. He can’t want me this badly. I understand the men in his family do not excel at letting go, I understand they all have volumes of emotional issues, but surely I could reason with him if I could figure out the right approach.
Mateo’s patience is clearly running out. There’s no emotion in his voice now, so I can’t tell what he’s feeling. “I’m going to give you one last chance, Mia. Get in the goddamn car. Let Colin take you home and we can forget this conversation ever happened.”
I close my eyes, unintentionally squeezing out a few of the tears welling up around the rim. “No.”
“Tell me no again,” he dares me, his tone steeped in menace.
My chest tightens with anxiety. I try to rub it away, to draw a steady breath, and I fail on both counts. “You guys are tearing me apart, Mateo. I can’t keep doing this. I need peace.”
“Then you joined the wrong fucking family,” he states.
I don’t know how to respond to that, but it turns out I don’t have to; he hangs up on me.
I’ve never been as alone as I feel now, handing Colin back his phone. I feel like I’ve just barely survived a plane crash, and I’m stranded alone on an island. There are no people around. There are no trees. It’s a barren patch of land, just a small sandbar, assuring I’ll never be found, never be rescued. Guaranteeing I’ll never return to civilization.
I know I won’t. I might survive this family, but I’ll never escape them.
Maybe they’ve never called me a prisoner, but they have a way of repackaging ugly realities to make them seem more appealing. I’m clearly not free to leave, or to make my own choices. I move when they tell me to. I go to sleep beside who they tell me to. I eat when and where they tell me to. I even dress how they tell me to. I’m told I’m free to leave if my relationships ever end; only loving these men is like giving a blood oath. They get their hooks into you, they rip you apart, and they don’t ever let go—even if you beg them to.
Colin doesn’t leave.
He texts on his phone instead of talking, and he doesn’t speak to either one of us. He gets out his gun so we know he has it, but he doesn’t make a move.
I sit on our couch and try not to think about the hellish encounter I’m about to endure. I stare at the bookshelf full of graphic novels Mateo bought me. I try to recall exactly what it was he said—something about how I believed good always triumphed over evil, but it didn’t, and he could’ve told me that. I ruminate on how different I felt coming home from his poker game the night I sold myself to him for a house. For a chance to get away. I had hope for the future, but I still felt so jaded by my present.
I’ve sunk even lower now. I didn’t think it was possible that night, the way I felt.
I think maybe there’s always a lower level here. You hit rock bottom and the floor opens up to show you a new low. It’s infinite. Maybe I really am in Hell. Maybe Mateo really is the devil. Vince is my inescapable demon. Maybe they’re going to keep ripping me apart like this for the rest of eternity. Maybe this is my fate, and there’s no escaping it.
I’m so tired. It’s taking forever for Mateo to get here. I wonder what he’s going to do, how he’s going to play this. He was certainly pissed off at me when he hung up the phone, so I don’t think he’ll take the tender approach. He’ll come in logical; probably interrogate me more about what Vince said to scare me. I’ll have to lie to him again. Me, the person who’s tried so hard to be loyal to him.
That’s what I expect, when I finally hear his car pull up outside.
Even-keeled sociopath, like Mark said.
What I don’t expect is for him to storm in, his brown eyes blazing with fury. I’m taken aback that he’s showing his feelings in front of them and not just me—anger may not be a pleasant emotion, but it’s still an emotion, and Mateo likes to appear untouchable. I just told Mateo I would rather stay with Vince than be with him. If I meant it, if Vince believed I meant it, I can’t imagine Mateo would want Vince to know it actually mattered to him. That we’re actually hurting him. Yet here he is, master of the pokerface, showing his hand.
He doesn’t stop at the door. He doesn’t approach the couch and grill me. He rages in like a storm, rips Vince off the couch by the shirt he’s now wearing, and throws him against the wall. Vince is clearly not expecting it either since Mateo generally prefers mental warfare to physical violence, but before he can recover his balance, Mateo punches him in the jaw.
“Stop,” I shriek, jumping off the couch.
“Sit the fuck down,” Mateo barks at me.
Eyes wide, I drop back onto the couch.
Vince comes up swinging this time and I gasp as he clips Mateo in the jaw. I know Mateo told me to sit, but Colin isn’t helping and I know Adrian’s in the car. I’m tempted to run out and get him, but I’m also afraid to leave them alone. I know Colin would step in to help Mateo, but Colin isn’t going to keep Vince alive.
They keep that up for a couple minutes, punching each other, blocking, attacking. My heart starts and stops a dozen times since I’m invested in both sides, but I take it as a good sign that no one’s pulled a gun. Maybe they just need to punch each other a few times. They both have plenty of testosterone to spare.
“I’m really fucking sick of this shit, Vince. What did you say to her?” Mateo finally demands.
Vince smirks, and boy, does he sell it. “Maybe it’s not what I said, but what I did to her.”
Mateo’s hook lands that time, knocking him right in the jaw. “Oh, you wanna play that game, Vince?” Mateo asks, hitting him again.
Shit, Vince isn’t on even footing anymore.
“Mateo, stop. He didn’t do anything to me, he’s just—Please stop fighting,” I say, more tentatively than I mean to. My gaze darts to Vince, then to Colin to see if he looks worried. Of course he doesn’t, though. He doesn’t care about this. He doesn’t care about either one of them; he’s fucking freelance.
Mateo’s voice drags me back to the fight. “You want me to tell you all the things Mia says to me when I fuck her? I could show you. You want to see a fucking tape? You wanna watch Mia fuck me all night long, Vince?”
“Stop,” I cry again, my face heating with embarrassment as he says that to Vince.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Vince growls at him, swinging again, but Mateo blocks it, shoves Vince, and knocks him to the floor.
My heart stalls, because Mateo doesn’t stop there. He kicks Vince in the ribs and from the awful sound Vince makes, it hurts like hell.
“Please stop, you’ve hurt him enough,” I cry, pushing off the couch again. I don’t want to get in the line of fire, but he needs to stop before he really hurts him. He’s made his point.
Only he hasn’t, apparently.
Mateo’s tone turns somehow even more taunting as his foot connects with Vince’s ribs again. “You want to hear how she begs me, Vince?” Another kick. “How she fucking begs me to fuck her? How she tells me her pussy belongs to me? That I own her?”
My stomach sinks like a rock tossed carelessly into a raging river. I’m stunned that he would say those things—that he would say them now. He’s done it before, but that was when he didn’t care about me, when I was just his pawn. For him to use those special moments against me now, to wield them like weapons… it’s horrible. It’s humiliating. I feel sick to my stomach.
“Stop it!” I move closer. I’m on fire now, burning with humiliation and anger. “Stop using me to hurt him. Stop telling him… Stop it. You’re being cruel.”
Spinning around to glare at me, Mateo says, “I am cruel. Wake the fuck up, Mia.”
Vince momentarily forgotten, he stalks toward me now. I back up, because I’ve never seen him like this before. I’m actually afraid of him.
“Should we show him?” he asks, as the back of my legs hit the couch. “I can fuck you here, give him a live show.”
“Please stop,” I say, quietly. “You’re being… You’ve made your point.”
“Apparently I haven’t.” His chest rises and falls the way Vince’s did earlier, full of rage and adrenaline. “This ends tonight. You told me you wouldn’t leave me. Now you’re going to keep your fucking word, whether you like it or not. Walk your ass out to the car, Mia, or you can stay in here and watch me kill your fucking boyfriend.”
“No,” I cry, reaching for him now. Adrenaline surges through my veins, and though there are still tears in my eyes, I can only feel fear now. “Please. You’ve hurt him enough. Please don’t kill him. Please. I can’t live with that, Mateo. I did this. This is all my fault. Please.”
Even though he’s being awful, I keep my hands on him, attempting to soothe him, to tap into his feelings for me. I have to reach him to chill him out—at least, that’s how it works with Vince. Mateo watches me for a long stretch—it feels like forever, but I guess it’s only a minute or so. He’s still angry, but less explosive now, more the cool anger I’ve seen before. I relax at the sight of something familiar. He keeps his eyes on my face, a look of calculation briefly registering and making me uncomfortable again. His calculations are a complete mystery to me, and he never shares them, so they can be scary. His gaze drops to my hands and he watches me nervously grip his lapels, my fingers brushing his chest as I try to calm him so he can be reasoned with. He looks vaguely annoyed by it. I have no idea what to do. I am completely out of my league with him, and I’m so petrified I want to throw up.
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