by Sam Mariano
We all stand there for a wordless moment; opponents, not friends. Vince moves closer, but stops when he realizes Mateo advances on me more with each step he takes. His warm, hard body presses against mine, so close I’m certain he can feel my heart thundering inside my chest cavity. Vince stops, so consumed with dread that I can’t even imagine what he’s thinking.
And then Mateo’s free hand moves slowly, threateningly down my side to my hip. My blood turns to ice in my veins and I can’t breathe. Confusion and terror band together and render me completely useless, a glorified hood ornament. He doesn’t pay any attention to me while he does it—his eyes are on Vince. My horror grows when he smiles, as if he likes what he sees.
Oh, God. What is this?
Practically vibrating with resentment, Vince takes a step back.
Mateo’s smile doesn’t change, but something sparks in his eyes, something… deceptively pleasant. “That’s better.”
I get the feeling this is all a game to him. A parlor game, a way to pass the time. He comes out the victor in every tournament, so this… this goes on as long as it amuses him.
He obviously likes submission, so I let my arm go slack in his grip. It gets his attention, since up until then, I’ve been straining to pull away.
“Now that the gang’s all here, why don’t we take this somewhere more private?” he suggests, as if I have any say in the matter.
I nod, meeting his gaze. He doesn’t need my permission, but I give it anyway, preferring at least the pretense that I’m in some kind of control here.
He drops my arm, taking a step back. My hand automatically rises to give it a little rub, which Vince notices but doesn’t remark upon.
The other man approaches me, and I look at him, wondering what happened to his face. He has burn scars along the left side and down his neck, disappearing into his shirt. They wouldn’t have healed like that if they were from the fire next door; not to mention, he hadn’t seemed injured.
“Give Adrian your car keys,” Mateo says as he passes Vince. “You’re riding with me.”
Vince finally gets close to me, and as soon as he does, I throw myself into his arms.
“I’m so sorry,” he tells me again, holding me tight. “I’m so sorry, Mia.”
“Please don’t let them hurt me,” I murmur against him, trying to hold back tears.
“I’m gonna do everything I can,” he promises, placing a kiss on my forehead.
“Are you sure they’re gonna take us to the same place?” I ask, not at all trusting this Adrian guy.
“Yeah, we’re just gonna go home so we can sort this out. Adrian won’t act unless Mateo tells him to. Isn’t that right, Adrian?”
“Sure is,” Adrian says, easily.
Vince lets me go, but I want to hold on. I wish I could ride with him, but I know they’d never allow that.
Once Adrian gets Vince’s car keys, Vince gives me one more hug, promising he’ll see me soon, and heads toward the black Escalade Mateo already climbed inside. Adrian takes hold of my arm lightly.
“Don’t try anything stupid,” he warns, tugging me toward Vince’s car. “Mateo wants to hear what Vince has to say first, but you draw attention, I’ll drop you right here.”
I feel like we probably already drew whatever attention we were going to, but I don’t say that. I nod and climb in the passenger side seat of Vince’s car.
Adrian drops into Vince’s seat, shoving the key in the ignition and firing it up. Before he puts it in drive, he holds out his hand, saying simply, “Phone.”
It takes me a second to remember I have mine in my pocket, but I take it out and hand it over without question.
Adrian pops something into the side and slides out a tiny chip, then he dismantles it completely, removing the battery and throwing all the pieces into the back seat.
As if this is his every day, he turns on the radio, pushes a button a few times to change songs, and puts the car in drive.
I look out the window as we pass my house, and I’m sick at the thought that this could be the last time I ever see it.
Chapter Thirteen
The ride to Vince’s house is silent and brief. I guess I expected Adrian to probe—ask questions I didn’t know how to answer, try to trip me up before I have a chance to talk to Vince. He doesn’t. He just listens to classic rock and drives like he isn’t escorting me to my own doom.
When we pull up outside the black wrought iron gates, I am floored. Obviously I knew Vince didn’t worry about money, but the sprawling edifice behind the gates is more Parisian opera hall than house. Two stories of white stone sit back off the road, pretty as a picture with a royal blue roof. Three stone steps lead to the front door, thick white columns holding up a beautiful balcony overhead. In front of the enormous house there’s a circular driveway of gray-white brick, and a large fountain at the center. Mateo’s Escalade has stopped at the front of the fountain, and Adrian pulls up behind it.
“Vince lives here?” I can’t help asking.
“Yep,” Adrian verifies.
“It’s like a castle,” I say, still in awe.
“Might as well be,” he mutters, shoving open the door and climbing out.
I don’t ask what that means, too awestruck to care.
Up ahead, Vince and Mateo ascend the three steps, while I linger in the driveway, gaping at everything. Off the right is a covered patio, and I see a pool through the columns.
“Come on,” Adrian says, a hand on my back nudging me forward.
I can’t believe this is a house—people actually live here. Not even just people, but Vince.
As soon as we enter the house, I’m blown away again. The biggest chandelier I’ve ever seen hangs from the second story, with twin curved staircases. The tan and white tile floor gleams, and I feel like I’ve stepped into a luxury real estate pamphlet.
“This way,” Adrian tells me, heading left past the staircase.
We don’t make it far, as Adrian leads me to the first gleaming oak door on the right side of the wide hall.
“This place is bananas,” I tell him, in case he missed it.
He cracks a smile, but it quickly dissipates as we enter the room where Mateo and Vince are waiting.
Another huge, beautiful room, this one clearly the study. Floor to ceiling wood, with built-in shelves full of leather-bound books. There are four puffy red leather chairs that look like they belong in a gentleman’s club flanking an area rug in front of the fire place, and to the far right, an imposing desk, presumably Mateo’s.
“How was the ride?” Mateo asks Adrian.
“Quiet. Until she saw your house,” he adds, his tone lightly mocking. “Apparently it’s like a castle.”
Both Morelli men look at me, but I just shrug. “I could fit my whole house in your foyer.”
Mateo’s gaze lingers on mine, reminding me I’m not here for the tour. I can’t imagine anyone being barbaric enough to commit a murder in such a beautiful room, but my nerves jolt when he speaks to me. “Come here.”
My gaze jumps fleetingly to Vince, but I don’t take long obeying. He points to the ground when I don’t come close enough, but I frown in confusion, looking down at the red area rug.
“On your knees. On the rug, just in case.”
“What—what do you mean?”
“Get. On. Your. Knees,” he says slowly, staring at me. “Were those directions easier to follow?”
I look to Vince again, but he doesn’t speak. His face is a mask of dread, which doesn’t give me much hope.
Swallowing, I drop to my knees at the center of the area rug and look up at Mateo.
Mateo nods once, then takes a menacing step toward me. “All right, Mia. I don’t have a lot of time to figure out what to do with you. You live with your mother, you’re in high school—people will notice you missing. For the sake of expedience, I’m going to lay out the rules for you. Once. No sobbing, no complaining or questioning—just listen and obey. I don’t like repeating myse
lf, and I rarely do things I don’t like to do.”
I wait for further instructions, but I somehow don’t expect him to pull a Glock out of his jacket and point it directly at my forehead.
“Oh, please, no,” I whimper, dropping back on my heels.
“The first thing we’re going to do is see how honest you are. Vince assures me you’re a goddamn saint, so let’s find out, hm? Sit forward. You don’t have to be afraid if you’re honest.”
I can hardly manage breathing, but somehow I get back up to my knees.
“You’re going to tell me your story,” Mateo states, bringing the cold, hard barrel of the gun to rest against my forehead. “The first time I hear a lie, I pull the trigger.”
Blood surges through me, and for a split second, everything feels faint, and I fear I’ll pass out. “But… how will you know if it’s a lie?”
“Well, see, Vince told me his version of events in the car. So this really works both ways—if you lie to me, you die. If he lied to me and you tell the truth, you die. Either way, we all learn not to lie to me.”
“Oh, my God,” I whisper, bile rising up my throat.
“Start at the beginning.”
Mind racing, horrified tears gathering in my eyes, I hope to God Vince was honest. “I… I was outside my house to make a phone call to a guy from school. I noticed something strange next door, and realized it was fire. I didn’t have time to call for help, because I saw someone coming out of the house.” Raising a shaky hand, I indicate Adrian. “Him.” I swallow, my eyes moving up to the gun, struggling to focus. “Um… and then a second person came out, and I recognized Vince from school. I… I…” I stop, not wanting to admit the next part. Closing my eyes, swallowing convulsively, I force myself to go on. “I crouched in the bushes so he wouldn’t see me, and I tried to take a video on my phone. I fell, and he saw me, and I ran.”
“A video of him leaving the house?” Mateo asks, to verify.
“Yes. It was stupid, I didn’t… It was a stupid thing to do.”
“Yes. Go on.”
“I dropped my phone and… I had heard rumors about Vince’s family, so I was afraid. I didn’t go back for the phone until the next day, and it was gone. Vince took it. He erased the video, and broke into my house. He threatened me and gave back my phone. My mom came home so I hid him in my bedroom until I could leave. I assured him he could trust me, that I wouldn’t tell, and I meant it.”
Mateo is unmoved by the last line, but he hasn’t shot me yet, so I continue to summarize my time with Vince up to this point. Occasionally he asks questions. I don’t know how detailed I’m supposed to be about things unrelated to what I saw, but I figure it’s no time to hold back.
“You had sex?” Mateo questions, when we get to that part.
My face already had to be red from the stress of the situation, but I imagine the color somehow deepens. “Yes. After that is when he broke up with me.” I’m sweating bullets, having skipped the part about being warned away by some random dude Francesca must have hired.
“And why did he break up with you?”
I’m not looking forward to this one either, but I stare at his hand, wrapped around the grip, and say, “Because he was afraid if we stayed together, you would notice me. He was afraid if you noticed me, you might look into me, and if you did… you would realize what I must have witnessed.”
Glancing back at Vince, he says, “See, she even calls herself a witness.”
“But I would never tell anyone,” I add. “I didn’t and I wouldn’t. Vince was right to trust me. It doesn’t matter what I saw, no one will ever know. I even… I didn’t believe Vince, I didn’t think we should hide what I saw.”
Mateo’s head cocks to the side, but he seems interested enough that I go on.
“Vince was afraid you would…well, do this, I guess. But I wanted to bring it to you. I thought the crime was in the cover-up. I wanted to tell you what I saw, so there was nothing to hide. I wanted you to know I wouldn’t say anything.”
“Why would you care?” he asks, frowning slightly.
“I just… I just wanted to be with Vince. I thought if I showed you I was trustworthy, maybe you would be okay with that. Vince didn’t seem to agree. I guess… he was probably right on this one.”
“No,” Mateo says, shaking his head. “You were. This would have gone differently if you were telling me something I didn’t know. As it is, I had to find out about you myself. Confessing once you’re already caught doesn’t mean much.”
“I understand that,” I say quietly.
He draws the gun away from my head, but doesn’t put it away. I sag with relief, drawing in a shuddering breath and bracing my hands on the floor, sending up a silent prayer of thanks.
“I like your instincts, though,” he adds. Turning his attention to the scarred man, he asks, “What’s your opinion on this, Adrian?”
My gaze flashes to him, but Adrian isn’t looking at me. “I haven’t really talked to her enough to form a firm one, but my instinct is we trust Vince’s judgment on this one. He dumped her and she still didn’t talk.”
Mateo nods. “And kind of pushed her into the relationship to begin with, sounds like.”
I open my mouth to voice my objection to that, but, realizing immediately this isn’t a battle I want to pick, I settle on a scowl that no one sees anyway, since they’re too busy deciding my fate amongst themselves.
Now Mateo turns to Vince. “Are you committed to her?”
I expect an enthusiastic yes, seeing as my life’s on the line, but Vince’s guards are up even higher than that first night he accosted me in my kitchen. He gives Mateo a measured, wordless nod that does little to reassure me.
“All right,” Mateo says, surprisingly amiable as he tucks his gun away in his jacket again. “Never say I didn’t do anything for you. As long as you want her and she doesn’t give me reason to change my mind, I’ll let the girl live.”
Relief washes over me like a tidal wave, but I’m confused by Vince’s lack of response. Lack of positive response, anyway. He’s still holding Mateo’s gaze, still not speaking, and there’s this bitter little smile on his face that I can’t figure out.
Mateo turns his back on Vince, addressing Adrian. “Do you have her phone?”
The other man nods. “I took it apart. It’s in Vince’s car.”
“Can you fix it?” he asks, following Adrian out of the study.
“Of course.”
As their voices fade with distance, I push myself up off the floor. My legs still feel a little weak, and my nerves are absolutely fried, but I’m alive and no longer in any danger. Vince still hasn’t moved. I’m a little disappointed he’s not happier that I’m not going to die.
“It’s good news,” I tell him, smiling tentatively. “He’s not going to hurt me.”
“He didn’t say that,” Vince says easily, speaking for the first time since we arrived here.
I frown, replaying the moment that just happened over again. “He said he wouldn’t kill me unless I gave him reason, which obviously I won’t. He said we could be together—he’s fine with it.”
Nodding again, with something that looks like a smile but isn’t, he corrects me. “He said as long as I want you, he’ll let you live. He just tied your life to our relationship, Mia. I’m 18, and I may as well have just married you.”
My stomach feels all weird at that, and not the good weird. I like Vince, I like Vince a lot, but I’ve known him for less than a month. “What?”
He shakes his head, still visibly aggravated, but he finally reaches out and pulls me in for a hug. “I’m sorry I got you mixed up in this shit. I knew better. This is my fault.”
I hug him, but not as tight as I thought I would. Struggling to wrap my head around our different interpretations of the same scene, I say, “Maybe we should ask for clarification. I think maybe he didn’t mean it the way you think he did.”
“I know Mateo, Mia,” he tells me evenly. “That was a
performance. There was no chance he’d let us off the hook and let you go; he just chose a different method of punishment for both of us and wrapped it up in a nice package. He doesn’t want you to live, but you don’t pose an immediate threat, so he made keeping you alive my responsibility. He’s punishing me, and he’s using you to do it.”
“I know I’m usually the one overthinking things, but… I think it’s you this time. You’re 18, why would he want to saddle you with me already?”
“Because I tried to keep a goddamn secret from him.”
Adrian’s back a second later, fiddling with my phone. He brings it over to me, and as it transfers into my hand, he looks at Vince. “Sorry, man.”
Vince shrugs one shoulder. “Could’ve gone worse, I guess.”
Frowning, I say, “It’s good news.”
Adrian spares me a sympathetic glance before walking out of the study, just as Mateo’s coming back in. My relief is starting to fade. Vince could be paranoid, but it seems like Adrian doesn’t view this as a victory either.
Mateo comes closer to us, his eyes moving over my body. Without meeting my gaze, he says, “Call your mother. Tell her you’re staying the night at a friend’s house. I’m going to call someone to take you to Francesca’s room; you should be about the same size, so you can borrow something of hers to wear for dinner.”
“I’m staying for dinner?” I ask, pleasantly surprised.
“You’ll stay the night. I have a lot of arrangements to make. I prefer to keep you under my roof while I get it all sorted. You can stay with Vince, or I can put you in a guarded room. Extra precaution, you understand. You’re free to roam the house, as long as you have an escort.”
I blink, trying to keep pace with what the hell he’s talking about. “A guarded…?”
“She’ll stay with me,” Vince states.
“Perfect. Cherie brought your backpack in, so if you have any homework to attend to, it’s in the foyer.”
Frowning in confusion, I say, “Cherie’s here?”
“Of course. Someone will show you around.”
The way he’s delivering all this information like I’m supposed to understand it, I feel a little stupid that I don’t. “Um, what if my mom doesn’t want me to stay over at a friend’s house tonight?”
