His Brother's Wife

by Michelle Love

  “That was creepy. Entirely made out of human bones.” Raff shuddered, but Inca grinned.

  “I loved it. The worst was that rope bridge you made me walk across. God.”

  “Wuss.”

  Inca play-punched his shoulder. “The words ‘hand-woven’ and ‘bridge’ should never go together.”

  Enda, watching how easy and playful his friend’s relationship was, couldn’t help but slide his hand along Ama’s thigh. She started, dropping her fork, which slid from the table. “Oops, sorry.”

  She bent over to retrieve it, and her shirt rode up, revealing a strip of creamy, golden skin …and the very definite imprint of a boot, bruised into the skin of her side and stomach. Enda’s breath caught in his throat and Inca, who had seen it too, met his gaze in alarm.

  Jackson. The bastard. The fury burned in Enda’s throat, and when Ama sat up, tugging her shirt down and flushing, he saw her reaction to his confusion.

  Lunch was subdued after that. Raffaelo seemed a little confused by the sadness that had come over the other three, and when Enda and Ama said goodbye, he hugged his friend.

  “We will get together soon, yes?”

  Enda nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The two men watched the women hug, and Inca whispered something to Ama, who nodded, tears in her eyes.

  Enda took an un-protesting Ama back to his apartment and poured them both a whiskey. As she sipped, he lifted her shirt and studied the horrendous pattern of bruises on her stomach, back and sides.

  “He did this.”

  She nodded, looking shattered. “Yes.”

  “That’s it. I’ve had it. I don’t care about anyone else but you. You need to leave that house tonight.”

  “No.”

  “No?” Enda was astonished.

  “I can’t. He …he’ll hurt people. People I care about.”

  “He’s hurting you!”

  “I can take it.”

  Enda lost it then. “How can you be so blind? You’re an intelligent, brave woman and he’s reducing you to what? His punching bag? Is he doing anything …?” He only got part way through the question before he realized. “Oh, dear god …is he raping you?”

  Ama gave a sob and nodded. Enda took her in his arms. He wanted to kill Jackson right there, right then. “What’s he holding over you, baby? What is it?”

  She told him and he closed his eyes. He had no trouble believing Jackson would have Selima or anyone else Ama loved hurt or even killed. He could understand how Ama thought she was backed into a corner. Bastard.

  Enda sat down with her on his couch. “Ama, I know you want to protect your sister. I do. But I think there’s something you need to understand about Jackson. He’s …psychopathic. My father won’t hear it, and Olivier struggles with accepting it even though he knows it’s the truth. Has Olly told you about Penelope?”

  Ama shook her head, looking desolate and exhausted. “No.”

  Enda took a deep breath in. “Penny was Jackson’s girlfriend, of sorts, a few years back. They didn’t date for long; Penny could see what kind of man he was. So, she tried to end it. Jackson, of course, is never dumped. By anyone. When Penny met someone else, Danny, Jackson had them both murdered. Danny by a hit-and-run driver. Penny was stabbed to death in her car.”

  Ama looked as if she was going to throw up. “Jesus. Jesus.” She bent double, wrapping her arms around herself. When she looked up at Enda, tears were flooding down her face. “What if he does the same to Selima?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I might leave him, but what if he has her killed before I’m even down the driveway? At the very least, he’ll destroy my father’s business.”

  “Inca saw the bruises too. What did she say to you?”

  Ama smiled through her tears. “She told me all I had to do was ask and she’ll be there for me. I love her already.”

  Enda took her in his arms. “I’m so scared for you, baby,” he said softly. “I swear, we will find a way out of this.”

  Ama nodded, pressing her lips against his. “I don’t want to go home, just for tonight. I’ll tell him our meeting with Inca and Raff went late, so I decided to stay in the city with friends.”

  Enda kissed her back. “Cara mia, I want to make you happy again.”

  Ama pulled away from him and stood, pulling her shirt over her head and slipping out of her skirt. Enda pressed his lips to her belly, careful not to hurt her bruises. Jackson certainly knew where to beat someone so that it wouldn’t show. Fucker.

  With a rush of adrenaline, Enda swept her into his arms and carried her to bed. Ama gazed up at him as he stripped. “Don’t wait, my darling. Don’t wait.”

  His cock, already ramrod hard and bobbing under its own weight, entered her and she shivered with pleasure as her cunt tightened around it. They fit together so perfectly it almost seemed unbelievable. They made love slowly and intensely until both came, shivering through a mellow orgasm. Enda kissed her tenderly.

  “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

  Ama shook her head and tried to smile. “No. You’re erasing bad memories, if that helps.”

  To his surprise, Enda found tears in his own eyes. “I hate this. I hate what he is doing to you.”

  Ama nodded, clinging to him. “I know. But I have to protect my family. Until I can figure out a way …”

  There was a furious pounding on the front door of the apartment and they both froze. Nobody knew they were there or even knew Enda owned the penthouse. Enda sat up and wrapped the sheet around Ama. “Go into the bathroom and stay there. Keep the light off.”

  She nodded and disappeared into the dark room. Enda got up and tugged his jeans on as the knocking came again.

  Steeling himself, he tugged open the door. Olivier stood outside and Enda gaped at him. “Olly …what the hell?”

  Olivier shook his head. “No time for explanations now. It’s dad, Enda. He’s had a massive heart attack. He’s in the hospital.” Olivier looked devastated and scared. “Bring Ama. We’ll tell Jackson we picked her up on the way.”

  As they all three ran the corridors of the hospital, a million questions whirled around Ama’s brain. So, Olivier knew about her and Enda and knew about the apartment. How the hell did he know? She couldn’t think of a way that wasn’t negative. And that’s what was killing her—thinking bad things about Olivier, whom she adored, as she knew Enda did. She trusted—had trusted—Olivier with her life. And now …

  They saw Jackson up ahead, and for once, Ama felt sorry for the monster. At this moment, he looked like the lost little boy, rather than the scheming rapist and possible murderer she now thought of him as. This was a different Jackson—vulnerable. She patted his arm awkwardly. “I’m so sorry, Jackson.”

  He looked right through her, ignoring Enda entirely and looked in desperation at his older brother. “They won’t tell me anything, Olly.”

  Olivier nodded, his face grim. “They’re probably still trying to do what they do, Jack. Let’s go sit together and wait.”

  Ama couldn’t bring herself to sit with Jackson, so she sat opposite him. She caught Olivier’s eye, and he smiled kindly. She felt a rush of relief that he wasn’t judging her for sleeping with Enda. Enda sat next to her, his arm across the back of her chair, and it was so tempting to just snuggle into him. He looked shocked, but grim-faced, and Ama could tell he was trying to keep it together.

  An hour later, the doctor came to see them. “I’m Dr. Friedan. I’m the chief of cardiology here,” she said and gave them a warm smile. “Mr. Gallo suffered a severe heart attack, as you know. Now, we’ve managed to stabilize him, but the next twenty-four hours are critical.”

  “Can we see him?”

  Dr. Friedan shook her head. “I’d rather you didn’t for a few hours. Let him rest. He regained consciousness briefly, but he’s sleeping now. Come back in the morning.”

  After she’d gone, Jackson slumped in his chair. “I’m not leaving.”

  Olivier looked at Enda. “Maybe you should take Ama hom
e and stay with her at the house until we have some news.”

  Ama looked at Jackson, who hadn’t even seemed to hear Olivier. “We should go.”

  At Macaulay Gallo’s home, the place rang with emptiness. Ama didn’t want to sleep or go to the room where Jackson had been abusing her all week, so she and Enda made camp in the large kitchen. There was a large, well-worn couch and they sat there together, watching dawn break outside the window.

  “You know, it’s funny,” Enda said quietly, “Even now, I can’t think of him as my father. I know the DNA tests said he was—sorry, is, but …it’s Olivier I stayed for. If it had just been Mac and Jackson, then maybe I would have not been so involved with the family.” He smiled sadly at her. “But then I wouldn’t have met you, amore mia.”

  Ama stroked his cheek. “So we have to talk about the fact that Olivier knows about us.”

  “It would seem.”

  They sat in silence, contemplating what that meant. Enda gave up. “I just can’t figure it out. We were so careful.”

  Ama was chewing her lip. “Do you think Jackson knows?”

  He shook his head. “No. Because if he did …”

  He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Ama knew he meant that if Jackson knew, they’d both probably be dead right now. Ama’s mind went back to what Enda had told her about Penelope. Ama had no problem imagining Jackson stabbing her to death for sleeping with Enda. She tamped down the terror. Better her than Enda …or Selima, but she didn’t say that out loud.

  Just after seven a.m., she finally fell asleep, wrapped in Enda’s arms as they lay on the couch together.

  At eight a.m. Olivier called them to tell them Macaulay was dead.

  The funeral was attended by hundreds of people. Inca and Raffaelo came too, sad-eyed, hugging Enda and Olivier. Ama dutifully took Jackson’s arm as they followed the casket into the church and sat with him as the service began. Jackson seemed out of it, and Ama wondered to Enda if he had taken something to get through it all.

  Macaulay’s death had hit him hard. Gone was the hubris and posturing; Jackson was grieving. Even Enda had felt sorry for the –man—as much as he could. He couldn’t shake the anger he felt towards Jackson over his treatment of Ama—the threats to her family if she didn’t comply with him. He studied them as a couple now; Jackson’s perfectly coiffed hair and cleanly shaven face, next to Ama’s ethereal, sad beauty. No. They made no sense as a couple. Why was Jackson so entirely set on pretending they were?

  Enda was plagued with nightmares about Ama being murdered by one of Jackson’s goons. He pictured her in her car, gutted, blood everywhere…Jesus, man, stop it. He bent his head, closing his eyes to erase the images. He felt Raff’s hand on his shoulder and smiled at his friend gratefully.

  At the wake, Ama stayed with Jackson for a time, then excused herself. She felt exhausted, drawn, and numb. She had liked Macaulay a lot, even though he was a weak man, and now that he’d gone…god, she would be alone in this house with Jackson. God knows what he would do to her when no one was there to stop him. She went to her room to change out of the formal black suit she had worn to the church and into a simple, but comfortable, black dress. She heard a soft knock on the door.

  “Come in.”

  Inca poked her head around the door and Ama sighed with relief. “Come in, please. I need some girl time.”

  Inca hugged her. “It’s awful. I’m so sorry.” She perched on the end of Ama’s bed and studied her. “How are you? Really?”

  Scared. That was the first thing that flew into her mind, but she bit it back. “Okay. Sad. He was a nice old coot.”

  Inca smiled. “He was. And sometimes, he had good DNA.”

  Ama chuckled. “Yes, sometimes.”

  Inca lowered her voice. “Ama, you can tell me anything. It’s pretty obvious, to Raff and me at least, that you and Enda are together. I don’t blame you, or judge you, except to say …yay. Selfishly, I want my friend Enda to be happy, and it’s clear to me that you are the person for him.”

  Ama wanted to cry. It was such a relief to be able to be honest with someone about her feelings for Enda. “It’s true. It’s just complicated.” She told Inca about the threats Jackson had made.

  Inca nodded sagely. “I get it. Look, Ama, I don’t know how much Enda has told you about my past, but I had some pretty serious …enemies, shall we say. There was a lot of violence and I nearly didn’t make it. So, I’m saying …I’ve dealt with the kind of things I think Jackson is threatening.”

  “And you made it out.”

  Inca nodded, her lovely face serious. “I did. And I want to help –you—we both want to help you and Enda. I don’t know how, yet, but we will. Jackson has a lot of power, and now with even a third share of his father’s fortune, he’ll think he’s untouchable.”

  Ama sighed. “You’re right. Did you know about Penelope?”

  Inca nodded. “Yes. Look, Ama, I’ve had some experience with obsession. It’s unpredictable. I think our first step would be to secure both your and your family’s safety.”

  “I agree. My family comes first, though. If Jackson’s going to take anything out on anybody, I’d rather it was me.”

  Inca gave her a strange smile. “You and I are more alike than you think. I would rather die than let anything happen to Raff.”

  Ama smiled. “He worships you, and I expect he’d say the same.”

  Inca laughed. “He would. Hopefully, that part of our lives is over and done with.”

  Ama squeezed her hand. “And now you’re on a mission to save mine.”

  “You betcha.”

  After her talk with Inca, Ama felt lighter and more positive. She rejoined the wake. People were starting to leave, and she saw Enda and Olivier talking to some of the stragglers. She moved towards them, but a hand shot out of a group of people, and Jackson hauled her to his side. The smell of alcohol coming off of him was overpowering.

  “Isn’t she beautiful, my wife?” He slurred and kissed her on the cheek. Ama tried to not to cringe. Macaulay’s friends looked uncomfortable, but Jackson hooked his arm around Ama’s neck. “I’m a very lucky man, wouldn’t you say?”

  Ama tried to deflect attention by smiling politely at the elderly couple. “How are you both? You look well.”

  Jackson snorted. “Come on, what do you say? Arthur? Magda? Isn’t Ama the most beautiful woman you ever saw? Her sister’s pretty too, if you know what I mean.”

  God. Ama pushed him away from her. “That’s enough, Jackson.” She turned, red-faced, to the couple. “I’m so sorry. He’s taken Mac’s death really hard.”

  The elderly couple smiled sympathetically at her and made their escape. Soon only the family, Inca, Raff, and one other couple were left. Jackson lurched at Ama. “Don’t ever contradict me again in public, bitch. That’s not your job.”

  “That’s enough, Jackson.” Enda strode over and put himself between Jackson and Ama. “Go to bed and sleep it off.”

  Jackson sneered. “Oh, look, it’s the bastard. Are you still here? Daddy dearest has gone now, so you can just go fuck yourself, you Italian asshole.”

  Enda kept his temper. “Go to bed, Jackson.”

  Jackson looked at Ama again and grinned nastily. “Okay. If Ama comes with me. She can suck my cock while I decide whether or not to fuck her sister too.”

  Ama gasped in horror, and Enda, incensed, launched himself at Jackson, landing punch after punch. Jackson staggered back against the window, smashing it, but Enda yanked him to the floor.

  It took both Raffaelo and Olivier to haul Enda off the bloodied Jackson. A shocked Inca had locked her arms around a trembling and sobbing Ama and was trying to calm her down.

  Jackson scrambled to his feet, wiping his mouth, and then stopped, looking between Enda and Ama. “Jesus Christ …you’re fucking her. You’re fucking my wife. Bastard!”

  He threw himself at Enda, but Olivier stepped between them and took the full force of Jackson’s rage. They both staggered back
, and it took Raffaelo to steady the pair. Olivier got his arms around his younger brother. “Stop. Stop.”

  “You filthy Italian cocksucker,” Jackson screamed at Enda, who glowered at him, “I’ll fucking kill you, I’ll kill both of you.” He struggled against his brother’s hold, turning his white-hot anger on Ama. “Bitch whore. I knew the precious princess act was fake. How long have you been opening your legs for him?”

  Suddenly, Ama lost her temper. She extricated herself from Inca’s arms and went to Jackson. “Do you want to know how long, Jackson? Do you really want to know? Our wedding night, Jackson. And do you know what else? I don’t regret one moment of it because I’m in love with Enda. That’s right, I love him. He’s my world now, and you’re just a bug on a windshield to me. Do you really want to me to tell them all what you do to me? How you raped me, beat me, and threatened to have my sister raped too? My father’s business ruined? Fuck you, Jackson Gallo, you’re not worth one billionth of Enda, or Olivier, or anyone.”

  There were tears pouring down her face now. “I’m leaving you and seeking an annulment. Screw you. Screw my father for doing this to Selima and me.”

  Jackson smiled nastily. “I’ll never agree to a divorce, Amalia. Never. You belong to me.”

  Ama slapped his face, hard. “I don’t belong to anyone, asshole. Remember that. I choose to be with Enda because I love him.”

  “I will ruin both of you. Both of you! Get out of my house, all of you. You,” Jackson snapped at Raffaelo now. “Take your whore and get out.”

  Inca gave him the finger and Raffaelo smirked. “Pathetic child. Ama, how long will it take you to pack your stuff?”

  “Ten minutes, tops.”

  Raffaelo nodded at Enda, who was still amped up, ready to kill Jackson if needed. “Go with her, Enda. We’ll make sure the toddler here is occupied.”

  Olivier nodded at Enda, his arms still locked around Jackson, who was just grinning openly now. As Ama walked past him, he spat at her, his saliva spattering across her face. Ama merely kept walking, wiping her face, and tugging Enda with her.