The Midnight Club

by Love, Michelle

  The doctor held up his hands. “Now, this is good news, but she still has a long way to go. It could take a while for her to regain consciousness and we won’t know until she does if she’ll suffer any long-term effects. She lost a lot of blood, a lot, and if her brain was starved of oxygen … well, we’ll just have to see. But this is a step in the right direction. I’ve checked her abdominal wounds, and I think we’re out of the woods as far as the abdominal artery is concerned. She’s a fighter.”

  Maceo, tears in his eyes, nodded, half-laughing. “Yes, she is.”

  Lucia was waiting outside the relatives’ room when the doctor left, and she hugged Maceo as tightly as she could when he told her the good news. “Oh, thank god, thank god,” she kept repeating, and he laughed.

  “I know, I know. Look, let’s go sit with her and see if we can coax her awake quicker.”

  Lucia laughed, but when she saw her friend lying so still in the bed, her smile faded. “She doesn’t look more awake.”

  Maceo stroked the hair back from Ori’s face, his gaze taking in every detail of his lover’s face. “Her color is better,” he said softly, and bent to kiss Ori’s cool lips. “Come back to me, mio amato. Come back to us.”

  Lucia’s heart ached for her boss, her friend. At that moment, she knew the depth of his love for Ori; they truly belonged together. She began to cry softly and Maceo, noticing, came to hold her hands.

  “It’s not fair,” Lucia said through her sobs. “She had years of unhappiness and abuse and now this. Just when you found each other.”

  Maceo wrapped his arms around her. “I swear to you, Lucia, she will come through this. I swear it, and when she does, I will give her the best, the happiest life anyone could ever have.”

  Lucia hugged him back. “I know you will. I know.”

  “Without her, I am nothing,” Maceo said in a low voice. “Nothing. If the worst should happen …”

  He didn’t continue, but he didn’t need to. Lucia pushed him away and made him look at her. “I never want to hear that from you, Maceo Bartoli. Ori would be furious and heartbroken. She’s fighting, I know it, and if she loses, it won’t be because she hasn’t tried. So don’t you give up on her, on me, or on yourself, Maceo. I won’t permit it.” Her voice was shaking so much he could barely understand her, but the pain in her eyes was unmistakable.

  “Perdonami, Lucia, I’m so, so sorry.”

  She let her hold her before wiping away her tears. “Ori would kick your ass all the way out of heaven.”

  Maceo smiled, his green eyes tired but soft. “Come on. She’d try, but then she’d look at all this hotness and forgive me...” He exaggerated a swagger to make her laugh.

  “God, Bartoli, you never change.” But she squeezed his shoulder. “How about I go track us down some decent coffee?”

  Outside, she slid her phone from her purse and called Benoit. “I think Maceo’s close to cracking up, I really do. I don’t know what to do.”

  Benoit listened to her patiently. “Lucia, don’t worry, we’ve got this.”

  Lucia sighed. “Thank you, Benoit. Listen,” she hesitated, “It may not be the best idea for … I mean, no offense to him, but …”

  “It’s okay,” Benoit’s voice was soft. “Alex won’t come near the hospital.”

  “Thank you, Benoit. I’m so sorry.”

  Maceo, standing at the door to Ori’s room, listened as her friend ended the call. He felt conflicted; right now, he needed his brothers, his rocks. But after what he’d said to them, he was surprised they were still speaking to him. His rage that day … he still felt it, but only towards Alex. He had never been so sure as he was that Alex had done this to Ori. The police had called him in to watch the gas station’s security footage. God, he would never get those images out of his head.

  The black-clad masked stranger getting into the car; Ori’s surprise, then shock … the way the man had stabbed her, so savagely, without mercy. Maceo was grateful for the graininess of the video that he couldn’t see the stabbing in detail, but he saw the blade catch the light as the killer plunged it into Ori’s belly again and again. Her hands uselessly clawing at him. The man bending over her for a long moment, then leaving her to bleed to death.

  Oh god, Ori … I’m so sorry. He returned to her bedside and sat down, taking her small hand in his, raising it to his lips. “Il mio amore, la mia bella amore.” He wished he could go to sleep and join Ori wherever she was, hold her, kiss her, just the two of them, in a world without danger, or fear.

  Ori’s fingers twitched, and Maceo froze. “Ori?”

  Nothing. He sighed and placed her hand flat against his cheek, trying to warm it. Her thumb moved, sweeping along his cheek. Maceo’s eyes widened as he saw her eyelids flicker. “Ori? Mio amore?”

  Her fingers moved, cupping his cheek and her eyes opened just a little, trying to focus on him. Maceo leaped up, calling for the nurse, but never taking his eyes off Ori’s lovely face. “Ori? That’s it, try to focus on me, oh my love, my love …”

  Netta was stepping out of the shower when Seth knocked on the door. She grinned at him. “Why are you knocking? Get in here.”

  Completely uninhibited she went to him, naked, and kissed him. “You’re smiling.”

  Seth laughed, indicating her still-damp body. “Any red-blooded man would be, but for once, you’re not the only reason. Ori’s coming out of the coma.”

  Netta felt a rush of relief. “Oh, thank god … did Maceo call you?”

  Seth nodded. “He asked me to call Lisander and Benoit.”

  Not Alex. Netta felt the sting, but nodded. Seth studied her, reading her mind.

  “Give him time, Netta. He’ll come around.”

  Netta swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. “Does he want us at the hospital?”

  Seth shook his head. “No, he doesn’t want her overwhelmed with visitors. Lucia’s there, of course, and Maceo said she would call when he thought it was a good time.”

  Netta started to wrap a towel around her body, but Seth caught the end of it and pulled it away. “I thought we could celebrate,” he said with a lazy smile, and Netta laughed. She stood back against the cool tile.

  “Then you had better strip for me, Cantor.”

  Seth pulled his tie down with a flourish, which made her grin. God, his body. As he undid the blue dress shirt he wore, she marveled at the planes of his chest, the firm abs, the slim hips.

  “I love your cock,” she said as he removed his underwear, “I love the curve of it, the silky feel of it … the taste of it.”

  Seth fisted the root of it. “You like this?”

  “Oh yes … I like to watch you as you get yourself hard, I like it when you do that and look at me just like you are right now.”

  Seth, his cock standing proudly against his belly, came closer. “I’d like to come on your skin.”

  Netta smiled, a soft, sensual curve of her mouth. She stepped forward and pressed her belly against him, stroking his cock with her fingers. She helped him climax, reveling as he shot creamy cum all over her belly and her breasts, then, as he picked her up easily with one arm, impaled herself onto him, her cunt enveloping him completely.

  “Why did we wait so long to do this?” Seth murmured, his lips at her ear, then her neck, then biting down on her shoulder as they fucked. Netta laughed, gasping as he nailed her back against the wall.

  “Hell knows, but let’s keep doing it.”

  Alex knocked at his half-sister’s door. He’d been to the police, them having asked him to come in and talk to them about the stabbing, and now he just needed to vent to someone. He could hear voices from inside and frowned. “Nets? Sis? You in there?”

  After a beat, Netta, wrapped in her robe and definitely looking disheveled, answered the door.

  “Hey, bro,” she said way too casually, and Alex’s eyes narrowed.

  “What the hell’s going on?”

  Netta hesitated, then sighed, opening the door to let him in. Alex stepp
ed into the room, only to rock back when he saw Seth, shirtless, standing at the far end of the room.

  Seth nodded to him.

  “Alex.”

  Alex stared at him, then Netta. “Seth. Well, this is … um … ”

  “Not at all awkward, seeing as I’m an adult,” Netta said firmly. Alex felt an argument brewing inside of him but suddenly felt exhausted and shrugged.

  “Fine.” He sighed and sat down as Seth found his shirt and slipped it back on. Alex looked up at him. “Any news from the hospital?”

  Seth and Netta exchanged a glance, then Seth said softly, “Ori’s coming out of the coma.”

  “That’s good. That’s good news.”

  Netta sat down next to her brother. “Alex …”

  “Maceo doesn’t want me there. That’s okay, whatever he needs, he gets. Whatever Ori needs.” Alex’s voice was steady, but Netta could hear the heartbreak in it.

  Seth touched Netta’s shoulder. “I’m going to give you two some alone time.”

  Netta nodded and smiled at him. “Thanks, Seth.”

  When they were alone, Alex nodded towards the door. “How long has that been going on?”

  “Just since we came to Italy. It’s kind of been brewing for a couple of years, though.”

  Alex smiled at her, his eyes tired. “I kind of guessed it might be, but then neither of you seemed to make the first move.”

  Netta stroked his hair away from his temple. “I’m sorry about Maceo, Alex.”

  “I can’t blame him; if the roles were reversed, I would think I was the killer. After all, Viola cheated on me … I have the perfect motive for killing her and to get revenge on Maceo, what better way than to take away the woman he loves. But I couldn’t do it either to Viola or Ori. I don’t expect anyone to believe me.”

  “I believe you,” Netta said, leaning her forehead against his. “I always will. Nothing could convince me you’re a killer, Alex. Nothing.”

  “That helps so much,” he said quietly. “Thank god for you … because I don’t think I have anyone else.”

  New York, 18 months previously …

  Viola backed away from him. “Please … please, you don’t have to do this.” The terror was overwhelming as her assailant pointed the crossbow at her. She shivered; forced outside in her underwear by him, she stumbled over the tree roots.

  “I do have to do this, Viola … and you know why. Opening your legs for Maceo? Whore.”

  Viola shook her head. “It was a mistake, please … ”

  He fired the crossbow, and the bolt slammed into her belly. She buckled, gasping in agony, her legs giving way as she slumped to the forest floor. He gazed down at her as she struggled to breathe, and bending, he wrenched the crossbow bolt from her and reloaded it. Blood gushed from her wound. He fired the bolt into her stomach, and she vomited blood, her body jerking with the impact. Her lovely dark eyes were wide with fear, pain, and resignation.

  “Why?” She managed to whisper as he pulled the bolt from her body and prepared to deliver the killer blow.

  He smiled. “Because this is the way I show my love,” he said and shot her again, the bolt burying itself deep into her slim body.

  Viola shuddered, choked on her own blood and then finally was quiet, her eyes open but sightless, her beautiful body blood-soaked and still.

  He picked her corpse up easily and floated it into the river. The waters were high and fast today, and she floated down, her blood mixing with the fresh water.

  Florence, now...

  She was waking up. He had failed. Which meant he would have to risk exposure again to ensure her silence. Orianthi Roy would not recover from this; he would make certain. Even if it meant his capture. Even if it meant killing Maceo to get to her … he hoped he wouldn’t have to do that, because more than anything, more than anything in the world, he wanted Maceo Bartoli to see the woman he loved die.

  The doctor shone a light in her eyes, and slowly Ori followed the light. She could hear talking, hear Maceo’s deep, silky Italian accent, but she could not quite focus on anything at the moment. Since opening her eyes, there had been a confusing blur of action in front of her that she couldn’t make sense of. Someone crying. Machinery bleeping; the annoying hiss of whatever the tube down her throat was connected to. She wanted to rip it out, but her entire body felt frozen and numb except for the burning, tormenting pain in her belly. That was the one thing she could remember. The knife. The feel of the steel slicing through her. Someone wanted her dead. Someone had tried to kill her.

  A tear trickled down her cheek, and she felt Maceo’s finger sweep it away. He came closer, and his face came into focus. So beautiful, Ori thought, I love you, I love you.

  “Don’t try and do too much,” he said, his chocolatey voice sending warm comfort through her. “You are doing so well, mio caro.”

  Oh, she wanted his lips against hers—made impossible by the tubes. She wanted to curve her aching body into the sanctuary of his, to feel protected and loved. She tried to communicate that much with her eyes, and for a moment, she thought he might understand. Instead, he turned concerned eyes onto the doctor.

  “I think she’s in pain, doctor.”

  A few seconds later, she felt the numbing warmth of morphine flood through her. She wanted to keep her eyes on Maceo’s but felt them closing again. So tired. So tired.

  The nightmares that came as she slept made the pain worse. Vivid, blood-drenched nightmares of being murdered over and over by the people she loved. Slashing knives, torn skin, pain, above all else, pain.

  When she woke, her whole body was drenched in sweat, and despite the tube in her throat, she was screaming. Another sedative.

  In the morning, she awoke to the sunshine and to fresh air. The tube had gone. She almost wanted to sob with relief. She made her eyes focus on Maceo; his head was lying on the bed by her right hand, and she slid her fingers into his dark curls, feeling the soft hair on her skin, so warm, so familiar. Maceo opened his green eyes and looked at her and smiled.

  “Good morning, my love.” He sat up, bringing her hand to his lips. She tried to speak, but her throat was tinder dry. Seeing this, Maceo sat up, pouring her a glass of water and helping her sip some through a straw. When she had drunk enough, she pulled away but kept her gaze locked on his.

  “Kiss me,” she croaked and, smiling, tears dripping down his face, Maceo pressed his lips gently to hers. The soothing warmth of his mouth against hers was better than any morphine. Ori gave a soft moan, not wanting him to stop, and Maceo, chuckling, brushed his lips across her cheek, her forehead, her throat, kissing each of her eyelids.

  “Ti amo, ti amo, ti amo,” he murmured, and Ori leaned into him, wincing at the pain but wanting to be in his arms. Maceo wrapped his arms around her, cradling her head in his hands.

  “Thank you for coming back to me,” he said, his voice breaking. “Thank you. Thank you.”

  Lucia, exhausted and ready to go back to the hotel after such an emotional day, was walking out of the entrance when she saw her and stopped.

  “Cassie?”

  The blonde woman stopped and Lucia was shocked to see how thin she had gotten. Cassie came over to her. “Thank god, Lucia. I only just found out what happened.”

  Lucia regarded her former friend coolly. “It was all over the news, Cassie.”

  Cassie looked uncomfortable. “I’ve been away, Lucia. I came as soon as I heard.”

  Lucia sighed. “You should have stayed home. Maceo is not in the right headspace to deal with you, Cassie.”

  Cassie flinched. “Does that mean … I mean, is Ori …?.”

  “Ori is recovering,” Lucia didn’t care if she bit Cassie’s head off; she was reviled by the hope in Cassie’s eyes that Ori had died.

  Cassie obviously realized how she had sounded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean …”

  “You meant that maybe, in his grief, Maceo would finally lean on you and see you, finally.” Lucia’s hurt and anger had finally foun
d a place to vent itself. “That he would come to rely on you and maybe in a few months, you could finally get him into your bed, Cassie, is that it? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but Maceo’s fiancée, the love of his life, and my best friend, is going to be okay. Ori’s a survivor; she always has been, always will be, and she’s worth a million of a sly skank like you.”

  Cassie, her face pale, tried to push past her, but Lucia blocked her. “You are not going into that hospital,” she growled at her.

  “You can’t stop me,” Cassie griped, then gasped as Lucia grabbed her and propelled her back towards the street.

  “Do you really want to cross me right now, you revolting little sneak?” Lucia was wild with anger. “Do you know what Maceo would do if he saw you? Stay away, Cassie. Your worthless ass is not wanted around here.”

  Lucia turned on her heel and stalked back into the hospital, leaving Cassie to stare open mouthed at her retreating form.

  Shocked, angry, and humiliated, Cassie pulled her phone from her purse and dialed. Hearing his voice on the other end of the phone, she cursed softly.

  “And hello to you too.”

  “I can’t get into the hospital,” she said. “That fucking bitch Lucia is blocking me.”

  He sighed. “That’s unfortunate.”

  Cassie grunted. “Look, you’ve gotten to her before … you’ll figure out a way to kill Orianthi Roy, right? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “Of course. And yes, I will figure out a way to kill her, but you disappoint me, Cassandra. I thought you had more about you than to be bullied into retreat.”

  “You don’t know what that bitch Lucia can be like. Look, I want out of this. If anything happens to Ori now, Lucia will look at me for sure.”

  He was silent. Then finally, “If that’s what you want. But listen, I’ve been too hard on you. At least let me buy you dinner tonight to say thank you for trying.”

  Cassie smiled. “That’s more like it.”