Submitting in Vegas: (Vegas Morellis, #3)

by Sam Mariano

  “Yeah, Mateo always made sure there were a lot of presents under the tree for us,” Vince mutters, like it kills him to give Mateo credit for anything. Probably does. This kid needs to learn to let shit go. “Now that he has 86 kids, I’m sure it’s like a toy store wasteland,” he adds.

  I can’t help smirking at his snide comment. I also think Mateo has too many kids, but that’s just because kids aren’t my thing. If anyone can afford to take care of a horde of tiny spawn, it’s my cousin, Mateo. If I had his wife and his vehement disinterest in condoms, I’d probably have a bunch of Morelli babies running around, too. Vince doesn’t disapprove for the same reasons, though. He’s just jealous.

  His wife clearly has the patience of a fucking saint, because she knows that, and she still drops down onto the floor beside him, rests her head on his shoulder, and watches as he peruses pictures of the rape baby that nearly ruined Mia’s life.

  I have no intention of sticking my nose in his pity party, I really fucking don’t, but then he mutters, “I should be there with him. It’s not fair.”

  Letting my head fall back as I roll my eyes, I mutter, “Jesus Christ.”

  Vince’s head snaps up, his brown eyes narrowing at me. He’s already spoiling for a fight after looking at these pictures—he wants to fight Mateo, not me, but since I once had my dick inside his golden girl, too, I’m the next best thing—so of course he calls me on it. “You wanna say something, asshole?”

  “No, please continue feeling sorry for yourself, I wouldn’t want to interrupt,” I tell him.

  “I don’t want to fucking hear it,” he says, jabbing a finger in the direction of the tree. “You get to be here with your son on Christmas Eve, you get to see him as much as you want to, and you don’t even fucking care. Talk to me when you’re stuck on the outside looking in.”

  “You should be grateful she lets you look in,” I tell him. “If I were Mia, I wouldn’t even send you the crumbs. You’ve done nothing to deserve them.”

  “Fuck off,” Vince tells me.

  “No, you fuck off. This is my turf, not yours. If you can’t handle me calling you out on your bullshit, don’t come back.”

  Vince shakes his head, but for once, he must think of his wife and how disappointed she would be if they couldn’t spend holidays here with Sin and Laurel, if his temper caused her to miss her little sister’s wedding, because even though I know it must kill him, he bites his tongue. “This isn’t something we’re ever going to agree on, so we should probably just stop talking about it.”

  He’s right, but he has annoyed me, so I don’t leave it alone.

  “You blew your own chance to be in that kid’s life. You couldn’t play nice with Mateo, you couldn’t leave Mia alone—you couldn’t handle it. You couldn’t sac up and admit you wronged her and she didn’t owe you shit, so you know what? You’re lucky Mateo even lets her send your sorry ass pictures, ‘cause I sure as hell wouldn’t. Here’s a pro-tip for you, Vince,” I advise him. “Maybe don’t rape the next woman you knock up and you’ll get daddy privileges.”

  Carly’s eyes widen and her head whips around to locate Laurel. I know Laurel doesn’t know shit about Vince’s sordid past, and I don’t intend on telling her, but fuck, I can’t handle this kid and his bullshit sometimes.

  Laurel is not paying attention, though. She’s standing in the kitchen with her eyes closed, her arms wrapped around Sin’s neck, and they’re making out like we don’t even exist.

  Carly notices, sags with relief, then looks back at me and Vince, her blue eyes glowing like they’re lit by fire. “This is not the fucking time or place, you two. Not even a little bit.”

  My gaze drifts to Virginia, stuck between me and Vince, and completely out of the loop. Her brown eyes are wide and she stares straight ahead, sitting perfectly still like maybe if she doesn’t move, we won’t notice her.

  Well, shit, this is some introduction to my extended family, isn’t it? “Enjoying your Christmas with the Morellis?” I ask her.

  She turns her head and looks at me, her eyes still wide, but she nods. “Oh, yeah. What’s not to like?”

  Carly clearly doesn’t trust either one of us to control ourselves, because she decides to bail. She stands and fakes a yawn, then raises her voice to tell Laurel, “I hate to interrupt you lovebirds, but I think we’re gonna go to bed.”

  Laurel drags herself away from Sin, however reluctantly. “Already?”

  Carly nods, taking Vince’s hand once he rises and stands behind her. “My husband needs an early Christmas gift, if you catch my meaning.”

  Laurel nods her head. “Gotcha. All right, well, thanks for helping me with the presents. Skylar usually wakes me up around seven, and Nicky… right now it seems like he’s going to get me up every hour on the hour, so we could probably do gifts around eight? Then breakfast afterward?” she adds, glancing at Virginia.

  Virginia nods her head. “That works for me.”

  Carly goes over to give Laurel a hug, and Vince trails behind her. He nods at Sin while Carly and Laurel hug, then takes Carly’s hand and heads upstairs with her.

  Seeing the opportunity to make my own exit, I also stand. “I think we’re gonna head out, too.”

  “Oh,” Virginia murmurs, following my lead. “Yeah, okay. I’ll just meet everyone back here at eight, then.”

  “You’re coming home with me,” I tell her.

  “I am?”

  “You are.”

  10

  Virginia

  On my way to my own car, I tell Rafe, “Obviously it wasn’t worth arguing about in front of Sin and Laurel, but I’m not going home with you.”

  “Yes, you are.” He’s so damn cocky. It shouldn’t be so endearing, but I can’t help finding the rogue’s overconfidence charming.

  I spin around to meet his gaze, regardless of my mushy insides. “No, I’m really not. You haven’t even had anything to drink, so you don’t need a ride, and I have my own bed to sleep in, so I don’t need to spend the night in yours.”

  “And yet, you’re going to,” he tells me. Not giving me time to object again, he says, “Carpooling is good for the environment, Virginia. We’re both coming back here in the morning at the same time. Driving separately is pointless, and also bad for the environment.”

  A faint smile steals across my lips. “Is that the reason? I had no idea you were such a tree hugger.”

  Nodding his head toward his car, he says, “Come on. I know you’re not going to make me sleep alone on Christmas Eve. Get your ass in the car.”

  “I hope you’re not expecting the same early Christmas gift your cousin is getting tonight, because I’m not giving it to you.”

  “I’ll be happy with your company and a little conversation before bed,” he assures me.

  Every encounter I’ve ever had in his bedroom up until this point compels me not to believe him, but what the hell? It’s Christmas Eve and I don’t have much better to do, so I might as well risk it. Worst case scenario, I wind up with another memory of Rafe on top of me, his soft mattress at my back, his dark eyes beckoning me to make bad decisions with him. I already knew spending Christmas with him would give me fodder for the Rafe Morelli highlight reel, and as much as I don’t want material to torture myself with later, I also can’t pass up the chance to collect it. Rafe’s company and a little conversation between us before falling asleep in his bed sounds something akin to magical, and I can’t find the gumption to say no again.

  Clicking the button on my key fob to make sure my car is locked, I walk the short distance to Rafe’s car. “Fine.”

  He opens the door for me and gestures for me to slide in. “Don’t sound so excited,” he says wryly.

  “If you get handsy, I’m telling Santa,” I inform him.

  Rafe smiles and closes my door, then walks around to the driver’s side. All the reasons this is a bad idea flood my brain at once, forcing me to take stock of them. Every step I take closer to this man makes me nervous. I know so muc
h about him and he knows much less about me, and his trust is so easy to damage. Once broken, it’s gone forever. I don’t know what I’m morally compelled to tell him, what he would expect me to tell him. I don’t fully understand the lines we’re straddling or why he even wants me to be here.

  The only thing I know for sure is that his investment in me is only a shadow of my investment in him, and that means he can afford to be reckless, while I can’t.

  The fact that he’s had his hand between my legs and he was a breath away from kissing me just a couple nights ago is sufficient evidence that I should not be spending the night with him, expecting things to remain platonic, while the knowledge that he left with someone else reminds me that platonic is the only way I can hold onto my current relationship with Rafe and my sanity.

  Then there’s the whole scene that just happened with his cousin in the living room. I don’t even know what the fuck that was, but Mia was involved, so maybe that’s a good thing to bring up. She’s just a crutch for him, but she does adequately distract him. “So, um, not to pry, but do most of your family holidays involve rape accusations?”

  His lips curve up faintly. “More than you might think. Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to literally trap you in the middle and make you feel awkward, I just get sick of Vince’s shit. I’ve mentioned my cousin and his wife, Mia.”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, she dated Vince first, but I guess his Hulk appeal faded fast. She ended up engaged to my other cousin, Mateo.”

  “Right, I knew that part.”

  “All right, well, remember—never mind, you probably don’t remember, it was a long time ago. But back when Ben was still in charge, when Vince came to town, I told you one night at the restaurant he had some boneheaded plan.”

  Naturally, I do remember that night. He was wearing a black dress shirt, unbuttoned at the chest, and his hair was a little longer than it is now. I drag the memory to the forefront of my mind right now and do a quick review to catch up. I nod my head for Rafe to go on. “Got it.”

  “His boneheaded plan was to kidnap Mia—then my cousin’s fiancée.”

  “A bad plan,” I agree.

  “A very bad plan. But Mia is very trusting, and she felt bad for him, so she let him lure her out for a drink.”

  I grimace, since this cannot be heading anywhere good.

  Rafe nods, turning his key in the engine and checking his rearview mirror. “Yeah, so, long story short, he kidnapped her and brought her here to hide out. Unsurprisingly, this woman who was engaged to another man was not interested in him, even despite this grand gesture, and all she wanted was to go home. Instead of admitting defeat and giving her back to my cousin, he kept her here for a week, raped her the whole time, and I guess one of those times…”

  “She got pregnant,” I finish softly. “Ugh, that poor woman.”

  Annoyance flits across his face and he nods jerkily. “Yeah. I decided to intervene before things got any worse. They were so toxic together—one night I thought he was going to hit her, and I just… I was done. I took her back to my house, called Mateo to tell her she was here, and I ended the whole thing. I told Vince to get out of town, and I took Mia back home to Chicago.”

  “Which is why he doesn’t like you,” I surmise.

  “Well, no. I mean, yes, that’s mostly why, but there are other reasons. Anyway, she decided to keep the baby and raise him like he’s Mateo. As a matter of assuring Mia’s safety, Mateo has obviously banned Vince from Chicago.”

  I nod my head. “Like you banned him from Vegas. But what about the wedding? They’ll both be there. And she sent him pictures?”

  Rafe watches out the windshield for a moment, then sighs. “Mia’s… she’s hard to explain. Once you meet her, you’ll probably get it. She’s not like us. She cares about people. She has a big heart. Mateo wanted to kill Vince, understandably, and Mia fought to keep him alive. She’s just… her own person, I guess. Anyway, even though she’s the one my asshole cousins mistreat all the fucking time, she accommodates them. That’s why she didn’t come to Laurel’s baby shower, even though she wanted to. She wanted Carly and Vince to be able to come and be comfortable, and she knew if she and Mateo came they wouldn’t be.”

  “Wow, sitting out the event so your rapist won’t be uncomfortable. That’s something.”

  “Isn’t it?” he murmurs. “That’s Mia in a nutshell. Sitting on the sidelines so people much worse than her can have fun.”

  “But she’s a bridesmaid in the wedding.”

  “Laurel doesn’t know the extent of Vince and Mia’s past. I assume if she did, she wouldn’t ask Mia to be around him, but she thinks they’re just awkward exes. Carly didn’t want Laurel to know any of that about Vince’s past. Laurel does not know Dom is Vince’s son. Anyway, not that this is likely to come up, but now that you know all this, make sure you don’t say anything to Laurel about it.”

  “I won’t,” I assure him. “Does Sin know?”

  “Yeah, he knows.”

  “And everyone is… comfortable with having Vince around? I mean, no offense, but after that conversation, I wasn’t completely comfortable in the knowledge that you seated me next to a known rapist.”

  “I obviously haven’t polled every woman of his acquaintance, but I’m pretty sure for Vince it was more a crime of passion than a pattern of behavior. Being around Mia just makes him crazy.”

  Hmm, she makes Vince crazy, and Rafe has had a crush on her for a while. Only because she’s a perfect crutch for him, but still. “Are there others?” I inquire.

  “Others?”

  “Other men who want her?”

  Rafe glances over at me, taking another read, I think. He’s worried I’ll become jealous of Mia and turn on her, and he doesn’t want to say anything to push me in that direction. That alone tells me she’s important to him, but that’s not a bad thing. Whatever their history, whatever his interest in her, since she is married to his cousin, they’re family now. Of course he cares about his family. Anyway, I’m not interested in being catty about a happily married woman who is no threat to me whatsoever, and I’m not so insecure as to resent her for attracting Rafe’s attention. Lots of women have attracted his attention. Not as many have held onto it the way she has, but that’s more his fault than hers. He has positioned her on a pedestal the same way I have positioned him on one, so I completely understand. In any case, Mia is not a threat to either one of us, and I know his feelings for her are not her fault.

  I offer him a pleasant smile, reassuring him that he needn’t worry about my claws coming out. “Just curious.”

  “We’re the only ones who have ever had her,” he states, his tone intentionally even. “I think Mateo’s best friend wants to fuck her, too, but they all deny it. He doesn’t like me much, either. To be fair, I’m not entirely sure he likes anyone.”

  I nod my head, glancing out the window as we slow down for a stop sign. “She must touch a lot of lives. I can’t wait to meet her and see what she’s like.”

  A heavy silence falls, and I don’t expect Rafe to say much after that. On one hand, I want to reassure him that one more notch on his headboard doesn’t make a difference to me, but on the other, I brought Mia up for a reason, and I don’t want to navigate back into murky waters where either of us would have to touch the question: why does it even matter to me, anyway? I’m not his girlfriend, I’m not even his potential girlfriend; I am his waitress.

  I’m so distracted by my own thoughts, it takes me a minute to realize we are still sitting at the stop sign. I cast a questioning look in Rafe’s direction. His hand is on the wheel, he’s looking forward with dark eyes set below furrowed brows, but still, he doesn’t accelerate.

  Finally, he looks over at me. “I like being able to tell you things. I like that you don’t get mad.”

  His praise, especially so haltingly delivered from a man so unshakably sure of himself, hits my veins with the intensity of a designer drug. My heart hammers in my
chest, does a little flip, then falls back in a faint, like an impossibly dramatic cartoon character. A helpless little smile tugs at my mouth. “Why would I get mad? I like hearing about your life. I like hearing your thoughts and feelings, likes and dislikes, what impresses you, what catches your attention… what turns you on,” I add, even though it’s a terrible idea. I look away after that, unable to hold his gaze. “I didn’t start living the day I met you, so I wouldn’t expect you only started living when you met me. Everyone has a past, Rafe. Everyone has secrets.”

  “Yeah?” he murmurs, his voice low with interest. “What are yours?”

  I clutch my gingerbread purse a little closer to my body and toss him a light, mysterious smile. “Maybe someday you’ll find out.”

  “Maybe someday, huh?” he asks, finally pressing on the accelerator and moving us past this damn stop sign.

  “If you’re lucky,” I tease.

  11

  Virginia

  There is a song Elvis Costello sings called This is Hell. The song is a pretty apt description of life trapped inside my head so I’ve listened to it many times over, but as I stand stationary in Rafe’s bedroom and watch him stand by his bed and strip off his shirt with comfortable familiarity, it starts replaying in my head like the radio from Hell. There’s a tinkling, whimsical sound in the background, something like a child’s music box—is that what it is? Instruments are not my specialty, but that doesn’t sound like any instrument I can think of. It’s a strange thing to get caught up on, but now I want to look it up.

  I should. Looking at my phone would be much safer than looking at Rafe’s back muscles flexing as he stands with his back to me and unbuckles his belt. Dear God, this man’s back. I want to kneel, light candles, and pray to it. I want to press my face against it and feel his heat.