by Sam Mariano
I need to compile some more information before I go there with the maid, monitor Mia’s house, make sure she gets out of her funk—fix it myself if she doesn’t. Assuming she does, I need to wait until they come over next week (and pay attention if Vince has to come to the mansion even without Mia) to see if he’s still reassured by my perceived interest in the maid. If he is, and Mia gets back into a healthy groove, perhaps it’s worth exploring. Just getting Mia alone for two minutes in the hallway was a whole production, and one that led to that fight once they returned home. If Vince thinks I’m preoccupied with my maid, however, he’ll be less vigilant. So will Mia—she may even think she can try to be my friend again.
Could be worth the trouble.
We’ll see.
Since there’s nothing more I can do tonight, I lean forward and turn the monitor off, then I stand and head to my own bedroom to fall asleep alone.
ONCE BURNED
Deleted Scene One
This deleted scene would take place in the book after Mateo’s speech at dinner, announcing Joey’s death and his heightened expectation of loyalty.
Mia
The silence is the loudest thing in the house as I drop my purse on the kitchen counter and root around for my misplaced hair clip.
“That was fun,” Vince remarks, dropping onto the stool where our breakfast bar is. I think probably because of family dinners at the mansion, Vince is adamantly disinterested in acquiring a dining room table. The breakfast bar was a nice idea, but it generally just ends up collecting junk mail and my purse.
Vince eyes my purse. “He buy you that one?” he asks, when I ignore him.
“Yep,” I reply, without apology.
Vince nods, drumming his hands on the counter. “Cool.” He misses a beat. “So that was just an act then? You’re still pissed at me?”
“Of course I’m still pissed at you,” I tell him, finding the clip. I tug my hair back, twisting it up, and securing it. The house is humid again. The air’s working, so I don’t know why. Maybe it’s my insides that are hot. “Just not pissed enough to get you killed.”
He doesn’t say anything to that, just sits there watching me move around the kitchen. I don’t even have anything to do now, but he’s watching me and I have nervous energy, so I grab a glass from the cupboard and the ice tray from the freezer. Maybe some cold water will cool me down.
“Remember when the idea of defending him was ridiculous to you?” Vince asks, but there’s no heat behind it. His temper isn’t engaged right now, he’s stuck in sad mode, and while part of me still wants to comfort him, the more dominant part is full of “fuck no.”
I don’t answer. The jab doesn’t require a response.
I come back with my own though. “Remember when you put my life at risk telling me about stupid shit I didn’t want to know you did, and then I had to keep a secret from the most dangerous man in our lives?” I look at him with false brightness, eyebrows raised. “Remember that?”
“I’m sorry,” he says, scowling at me. “To be fair, you asked.”
“I asked what was wrong with you,” I specify, wide-eyed. “I didn’t think you were fucking crazy enough for it to be this! I thought you were having a normal bad day. I was trying to be supportive.”
“And I was trying to be honest,” he fires back, his voice rising. “Excuse the fuck out of me for not lying, Mia. Must’ve slipped my mind that’s the only way we communicate with each other anymore.”
“Oh,” I mutter, feeling my face contort with disgust as I turn away, not wanting to look at him.
It’s not that he’s wrong. He’s just not supposed to talk about it.
Behind me, I hear him move off the stool. Everything tenses as I feel him come up behind me, his hand on my hip, turning me back to face him. “Don’t do that, Mia. Don’t hide from me.”
I don’t even want him touching me, so I brush his hand off, but remain facing him.
“I know I shouldn’t have told you,” he states, a tentative openness on his features. “I know that. I’m sorry. You don’t understand what I…” He trails off, looking away from me, shaking his head. “I was literally sick, Mia. I was a mess. All I wanted was to be close to the woman I love. I didn’t want the bullshit between us.”
I sigh, sagging a little. “I understand that. And… if it would’ve been anything else, I could’ve given you that.”
The openness slips away, a guarded pain sliding into its place. “But not when it’s him.”
“I can’t,” I say, staring at the ground, because I can’t look at his face anymore. I can’t see the pain, the betrayal, the disappointment. I’m too tired.
“Because you’re afraid he’ll kill you, or because you’re afraid he’d be disappointed in you?” he asks, his tone lightly scathing.
“I’m not doing this,” I tell him, shaking my head. “I’m not fighting with you about him.”
“Are we fighting?” he asks, his tone deceptively even. “I don’t think we’re fighting.”
“It always turns into a fight,” I say, looking at him just long enough to deliver a glare. “It definitely will now.”
“Not if you get on my side,” he returns.
“I’m not going to.” I didn’t even mean to say it, but it’s out there now, and he looks like I slapped him. I shake my head, unable to find even a scrap of remorse. “Not now. You took it too far. Your jealousy, your anger, your resentment, I’ve been dealing with all that, I’ve been doing my best to… not be on his side, and this is where it ended up.” I hold his gaze, seizing every inch of my ground. “You tried to have him killed, Vince. You tried to murder him. It may have been someone else’s gun, but you were the one who wanted him dead. And I won’t stand for that. You can be pissed at me, you can hate me, you can punish me, but I draw the line there. Going forward, I hope you would never be stupid enough to try something like this again, but I’ll promise you this—if you do, whether you fail or succeed, even if you manage to hang onto your life, you will lose me.”
Vince takes a step back, looking a little dazed. “Wow.”
A little surge of anxiety moves through me, having made myself that vulnerable, but I don’t know what else to do. I can’t tell Mateo, because he’ll kill Vince, but I won’t betray him, either. Maybe I can’t let him handle this, but it still needs to be handled.
“It’s not about being against you,” I tell him, wanting to soften that blow. “This isn’t you vs. him. I’m not picking him over you. I would defend you against him with the same fervor, Vince. But this has to stop. This can’t happen again. This is more than I signed on for—and everything has really been more than I signed on for, but this is where I get off. If you’re more interested in avenging your own pride or whatever… whatever you think you’re avenging, you’ll have to chase that alone.”
“You’d leave me over this,” he states, his face twisting with aversion, like he’s tasting the bitter words on his tongue.
“I would. And I will, if you ever try it again. Mark my words. I mean them.”
“You don’t love me.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You love him more.”
I sigh, moving past him to grab my purse. “I’m not doing this all night.”
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“I’m going to spend the night with Meg.”
He scoffs, then laughs a little. “With Mateo. You’re going to go spend the fucking night with Mateo.”
My stomach sinks, just hearing those words together in a sentence, but that’s not why I’m going. Yes, I woke up with him in the same bed last time, but this isn’t a girls’ night, this is just, “I need to get away from my boyfriend before I’m the one committing murders,” and yeah, my best friend just so happens to be engaged to and living with the main source of our problems. What can I do about that?
Vince grabs my arm, yanking me back toward him. “No.”
“I wasn’t asking,” I tell him, looking back at him, then
at my arm. “Let go, please.”
“How do you expect me to not blow up when you do shit like this, Mia? How can you expect me to trust you when we fight and you run to him?”
“I’m not running to him, I’ve never run to him, and that’s a bullshit thing to say,” I tell him, jerking my arm out of his grasp and glaring.
“But you are right now. And the same night he just so happened to say, hey, if you have anything you need to tell me, do it tonight. For all I know, maybe you want to go over there and tell on me.”
“I’m not going to tell him anything, Vince. You know why? Because I don’t know anything.” I nod, this idea making me feel much lighter. “You were upset over Joey because you were close. That’s all I know. As far as I know, you had nothing to do with it, no knowledge of Joey’s stupid plan. I know nothing.”
He nods, holding my gaze. “All right. So, you never fucked Mateo, and I never tried to kill him? That’s the reality we’re gonna live in?”
“That’s right,” I say.
I can see the cool fury behind his eyes, but he only nods. “Got it.”
“Good.”
I slide my feet back into the shoes I just took off, but Vince remains in the living room, watching me. “You’re being a shitty fucking friend, you know.”
“To you?” I ask, flicking a glance in his direction.
“To Meg,” he states. “You’re both being shitty to Meg.”
“Again, I’m not going to fuck Mateo,” I tell him, but without much gusto. “If you want to believe that, go right ahead, but I’m not. I doubt I’ll even see him. I want to see Meg, because she’s my only friend, because weirdly enough, no one else understands the unique strain of this goddamn life.” Sparing him a glare over my shoulder, I add, “And say what you will about me as a friend, at least I didn’t almost kill her.”
He’s too pissed at me to show remorse. “Neither did I, remember?” he fires back sarcastically.
I grab my keys off the wall hook and yank the front door open.
“Do me a favor, will ya? At least ask him to wear a condom when he fucks you.”
I’m so tempted to fling back, Mateo doesn’t like condoms, but I resist the urge to be cruel and slam the door shut behind me.
---
Since Vince and I started fighting before I could change out of my dress, Meg has to give me sleep clothes.
“I’m sorry Vince is being a dick,” she calls as I change in her bathroom. “What are you guys fighting about this time?”
Sighing, I close the door behind me and pad over to the bed, climbing up on the edge and meeting her gaze. “Nothing you want to hear about it.”
Smiling slightly, she says, “Ah, my beloved?”
“And other things, but yeah,” I affirm, playing with a loose thread on one of the decorative pillows. Given his insistence about the proper order of these things, I’m sort of surprised Mateo hasn’t noticed and banished it to decorative pillow hell.
“He knows it’s been, like, a lifetime now, right?” she asks, raising her perfect eyebrows.
“Vince excels at holding a grudge,” I inform her. “Why let it go and move on with your life when you can keep stewing over went wrong once?”
“Good question,” she says, nodding. “Vince should write self-help books.”
“He’s also having kind of a hard time with this Joey thing. He and Joey were good friends—best friends, really.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, more solemnly. “That… that’s an unfortunate situation. I can’t believe that happened.”
“Of course he’s pissed that you got hurt,” I’m quick to add, since I’m really uncomfortable talking to Mateo or Meg about this. Meg may be my friend, and she may like Vince, but her loyalty certainly lies with Mateo first. If she knew about Vince’s involvement, if she even suspected, she would have to tell Mateo.
Meg shakes her head dismissively. “No, I get it. Regardless of how he felt about what Joey did, it’s still crazy that he’s dead.”
“Exactly,” I murmur, sighing. Then, more because I want to exit this conversation than because I’m thirsty, I tell her, “I’m going to run downstairs and grab a bottle of water. You want anything?”
“Gummy worms?”
I blink. “Gummy worms?”
Batting her eyelashes at me, she rubs her hand across her still-flat belly. “For the baby.”
I roll my eyes, but can’t help smiling. “I’ll see if I can find any.”
“They’re down there. I sent Vince to get me a big supply. This baby craves sweets pretty hardcore.”
“Are we sure it’s Mateo’s?” I joke.
Pointing a finger at me, she says, “Don’t joke about that. You’ll have me thrown back in the tower in no time. That Irishman likes sweets, and he could probably impregnate a girl just by talking to her.”
I choke on laughter, because she’s not wrong. Meg’s bodyguard is pretty hot.
On the way to the kitchen, however, I get distracted by the open door of Mateo’s study.
I linger in the hall for a moment before peeking inside. He's in there alone, and even though I immediately want to turn back, he's already spotted me.
Smiling slightly, warmth in his gaze as he looks at me, he says, "Hello, Mia."
I offer back a hint of a smile, wrapping my arms around myself in an unconsciously protective gesture. I take a hesitant step inside. "Busy?"
"Nope." He drops his pen, leaning back in his chair and watching me. "I thought you left already.”
I nod as I approach his desk. "I did, but I came back. I hope you don't mind, Meg said I could stay the night. I just came down for water and apparently gummy worms?"
A little smirk plays around his lips. "Right, the baby’s sweet tooth. Of course I don’t mind, Mia; you’re welcome here anytime. Another girls' night?"
I roll my eyes in dread at the thought. "God, no. I'm a loose lipped drunk, I couldn't drink tonight."
"Really?" He seems too interested in this, and as he gets up and heads over to the alcohol cart, I sigh.
"I'm not drinking with you," I inform him.
"Two fingers."
That does not make me think of alcohol, and I feel my face flush in response. Nonetheless, he pours some alcohol into two glasses, taking one for himself and giving me the other. I accept it, but I don't take a drink.
Mateo perches on the edge of his desk, regarding me. "So, why the sleepover?"
I shake my head, looking down at the amber liquid in my glass. "Just had a fight with Vince, needed to get away."
"Bad fight?"
I nod, still not looking at him. It was such a bad idea to come in here. I may have leveled up my lying game since I met him, but I'm nowhere near his level. The last thing I need is to make matters worse.
I didn't come here to tell him, after all.
I can't.
My anxiety grows, so I decide maybe I will have a little sip to calm my nerves.
Mateo watches in amusement as I take a little sip and then grimace, making a series of unattractive, horrible faces.
"Oh my god, why is it so strong?"
Mateo chuckles, looking at me as if I delight him.
I roll my eyes and put it down on the edge of his desk. I shouldn't, since it means dipping close enough to him that I catch a whiff of his cologne. Some icky, uncomfortable feeling grips me from inside, so I take a step back.
"What was your fight about?" he asks.
"The same thing every fight is about," I mutter. Even the ones that don't seem like they're about Mateo somehow always end up being about him. Even if his name never comes up, I know where the aggression comes from.
"Ah," he says with a nod of understanding.
I stare at his glass as he takes a sip, watching me over the rim. My stomach still feels funny, twisted and rocky. I haven't missed these feelings.
Words want to come out of my mouth, words I don't want to spill, least of all to him, but at the same time, who else can I spill th
em to? Meg is more understanding than I can even believe when it comes to listening to me talk about my Mateo struggles, but she wasn't around, she doesn't know the reality of what that time was like for us, and I'm not allowed to be honest with her. So who else do I talk to, if not Mateo? I've been talking to no one, and that's not working. My problems and Vince's problems have just been shoved down deeper and deeper, but clearly they've never stopped festering or we wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. They need to come out.
"I don't know if we can make it." My voice shakes a little in the middle of that terrifying sentence. I don't want to say it, because speaking it aloud, putting it out into the universe seems like a betrayal. It seems like giving up.
He doesn't say anything, just watches me, waiting.
"I thought we could. I wanted to. But he won't forgive me, and he won't forgive you, and if he won't forgive..." I shake my head. "It's not just him; it's my fault, too. We both need things from each other that we're incapable of, or unwilling to give. I’m not even sure which it is. I'm not even sure which is worse. I need him to let go of what happened, and he needs me to let go of—" I stop, heart hammering, but I've already come this far. "Of you, and neither one of us will. I did, for a long time, and it didn't matter. He won't. I thought he had, but I was wrong." I shake my head. "We both need to put down our guards and our weapons and the bullshit that's between us and we won’t, and I don't know how we build on that."
I don't know what I expected him to say. I didn't expect to say any of this to him, but now that I have I feel split open, vulnerable. It's not lost on me that opening myself up to this man, of all people, is an insane thing to do. He's just as likely to take advantage of the vulnerability to cause more damage as he is to have anything profound to offer me.
