by Hamel, B. B.
I hated Colm. It came on me suddenly, the same blinding hate I felt for my father. While my dad wanted to keep me under his control so he could use me for his own political gains, Colm wanted to keep control of the family and extend this war as long as he could, probably for the same reasons. He didn’t care how many people died, so long as he stayed at the head, and we kept fighting.
It was a lie, all a lie, and so many had died for one man’s desire for power.
I hated Colm, hated them all, and almost wanted to tell Don Valentino not to make peace, but to roll into West Philly and slaughter them all.
“I want that,” I said finally. “I just don’t know if it’ll happen. Colm hasn’t budged at all during all this, I don’t know what I can do.”
“You’re a symbol,” Don Valentino said. “I know how much your family cares about marriage and babies and all that shit. If you become Matteo’s wife and we tell everyone about the child, then I hope Colm will come to the table.”
“And if he doesn’t?” I glanced at Matteo. “What happens then?”
“Then nothing happens,” Matteo said. “We keep you safe. You have the baby. And then we figure out what to do from there.”
I nodded slowly. “And you’re going to guarantee my safety?” I asked, staring at the Don.
He put a hand over his chest. “Swear it,” he said. “If you haven’t noticed, my house is massive. We could all live here and never see each other. Even if Colm doesn’t give a shit about you and nothing comes of this, at least you’ll be able to stay here, away from danger. Besides, I think my wife will like having another woman around.” He laughed a little and ran a hand through his hair.
I looked at my fingers, at my nails, trying to puzzle this all together. I felt like I was trading one bad situation for another. I could be a pawn for my father and the Healy family, or I could marry Matteo and be a pawn for them. Though at least the Valentino family was promising to keep me safe.
Still, I wanted to live my own life. I didn’t want to bounce between one family and the next, constantly shuffled from one plan into another with no say about what happens to me. I wanted agency. I wanted a life and a future.
“I don’t know if I can marry him,” I said, and the words felt like pulling a rope from my throat.
Matteo didn’t move, only studied me. The Don nodded his head slowly, like he expected this.
“I understand this isn’t an easy decision,” he said. “We aren’t your people.”
“And I barely know him,” I said.
Matteo only grimaced slightly. I hated myself for pushing back against him, when all he’d done so far was save me from one bad situation after another—and yet I still couldn’t forgive him for that first night and that first lie. If it weren’t for that, none of this would’ve happened, and I never would’ve found myself deciding between my family and my own safety.
“Matteo’s not so bad,” the Don said. “But take some time and think about it. Stay on the grounds for tonight, take a look around. I’m sure Bea will give you the tour.”
“I can do that,” I said.
“Good. I won’t force you into this, but listen to me right now, because you need to hear it.” I looked up and the Don stared at me with a surprising intensity. “If you don’t marry Matteo and accept my hospitality, you will never be safe. I’m not going to hurt you, and neither is Matteo, but your family will. You know it already, you’ve seen it, haven’t you? Your best friend betrayed you and your father tried to keep you locked up in your room. But that can stop if you help me end this war.”
I stood up abruptly. I felt dizzy, like I might topple over at any second. I didn’t know what to think, and even though I wanted to believe this man, I was terrified of giving myself away to Matteo.
And more than that, these were my enemies. I’d been raised to hate the Valentino family, and the last few years had only intensified that feeling. Every time someone I knew was killed, I thought of the Valentinos, and my hate for them only grew deeper. Now, I was supposed to trust them.
It was hard. Even if I hated my dad and Colm and the rest, they were still all I knew.
“I’ll think about it,” I said, and turned away. I walked to the door and heard the Don say something, but I couldn’t understand it as I hurried into the hall.
Matteo came after me. He grabbed my wrist before I could storm away and yanked me back toward him. I sucked in a breath and glared at him, alone in the dim hallway surrounded by wood paneling and thick rugs.
“I know you’ve got loyalty to your family,” he said softly, moving close to me, his other hand on my hip, “but now isn’t the time to give them what they don’t deserve.”
“I know you’re right,” I said. “But I don’t know if I can trust any of you.”
His eyes flashed. “I’ve done a lot to keep you safe.”
“And you also misled me from the start. How am I supposed to trust your Don?”
“You’re not,” he said, moving closer, lips brushing past mine. “Trust me instead. I’m telling you, I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and felt a tremor in my lips. I wanted him to kiss me, wanted him to touch me and to give me all the things I desperately needed—pleasure, safety, a man’s touch. But this was happening too fast and I didn’t know how to say yes, say yes when that was all I wanted to say, yes over and over again.
“I’ll try,” I said. “But I don’t know if I can.”
He turned me and pushed me up against the wall. I let out a gasp of surprise. It hurt my back, and his hands were rough on my body. His jaw clenched as he pressed his lips against my neck, then my cheek.
“I’m not going to let you go back to them,” he said. “Even if you won’t marry me, I’m going to make sure you’re taken care of.”
“Matteo—”
He kissed me then, hard and fierce. It was an angry kiss, one that wanted blood as much as pleasure, and god, it felt good. I kissed him back for all those starving thoughts I’d had since that first night together when he made me feel something I never thought I could feel.
But then he broke it off and left me. It felt like ripping off a comforter on a crisp winter morning, my skin suddenly chilled and empty. I wanted him back, wanted to feel the weight of him, the crush of him, but he stalked away down the hall, leaving me alone.
I composed myself then went after him, intent on at least trying to make this work.
9
Matteo
With Sam back at the Valentino mansion, safe and sound, I went out on the hunt.
Bea got her settled. It was obvious that Sam was uncomfortable, but Bea was the sort of person that made people feel at ease, and she promised that she’d make Sam feel as welcome as possible. Once I was sure Sam was being taken care of, I left the house with my gun tucked into my waistband, and drove back into the city.
Night fell, heavy and dark. West Philly had more street lights than some neighborhoods, though the block I stalked down was dimmer than most.
In my time hanging around the family, I learned a few things. Most of it was trivial stuff—where the guys hung out, who was in leadership, the sort of drugs they were selling—but some of it was supposed to be a secret. Thing about a mafia was most of them liked to drink, and some of them liked to talk. All I had to do was sit around and listen, even if I wasn’t part of the conversation.
This place was one of those secrets. The house was right on the corner of the block, a quiet row home with a brown door and shutters with peeling paint. A satellite dish was perched on the roof, staring down like a raven. A stone wall covered the back yard, and I had to brush broken glass off the top before jumping it. The glass was there to keep amateurs out—but I was no amateur.
I landed quietly on the stone patio. There was a metal table and some chairs. Lights were on in the windows, though they were covered by blinds. I crept up to the door and crouched down next to it, listening as intently as I could for any sounds from inside.
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I heard voices, talking at a normal level. I thought I heard the clink of glasses, and guessed there were three men in there, all of them drinking.
This place was a stash house. The Healy family kept some drugs here, cocaine and heroin and some pills or whatever the hell they were selling at the time. I wasn’t there for the goods though—I had a more important task in mind.
I was a patient man. That was probably why the Don chose me to go undercover around the Healy family. I could wait it out, listen and watch and learn before making my move. So many mafia guys couldn’t sit still long enough to figure out who was worth watching and who could be safely ignored.
Me though, I was good at waiting. I hunkered down in that back yard and kept my ear against the wall, trying to pick up any scrap of information about the guys inside that house. They were quiet, didn’t make a whole lot of noise, and the minutes slipped past, turned into hours, and my legs and back started to hurt from where I’d been sitting and crouching, occasionally changing position when necessary, waiting for my moment.
I didn’t know how long I’d been out there when the back door suddenly unlocked.
I got to my feet, gun in my hand. I pressed myself against the wall as the door swung open and a man stepped out. He was heavyset, a couple inches shorter than me, and was too busy taking a cigarette from a pack and lighting it to notice me. The door swung shut behind him and I stepped forward, shoving the gun against the base of his spine.
“Move and you die,” I said.
His mouth dropped and the cigarette fell to the ground. “What the fuck?” he said.
“Move,” I said, “and you die. Make a loud noise and you die. Do you understand me?”
Short silence. The guy was trembling slightly. Dark hair, thinning on the top. “You’re making a mistake, buddy,” he said. “You don’t know who you’re robbing.”
“I’m not here to rob anyone,” I said. “And I know exactly who you are, Healy fuck. Now turn toward the door and let me inside.”
He didn’t move. To his credit, he hesitated, which suggested he had a bigger set of balls than it seemed. But there was no way out of this for him, not if he wanted to survive. If he made noise, he’d die and I’d have to fight my way into the house. If he made a move, well, he’d die, and I’d have to fight. There was no winning.
Fortunately for both of us, he wasn’t stupid. He turned, nice and slow, and I shimmied to keep my gun pressed against his spine. He opened the door, hands in the air, and stepped into a brightly lit kitchen.
It took me a couple moments for my eyes to adjust. I’d been out in the dark for longer than I realized.
Two guys sat at the kitchen table. It was littered with beer cans and a couple bottles of whiskey. Cards were strewn all over along with some petty cash. The guys were probably playing cards and betting for the last few hours while I sat out in the night, waiting patiently.
“What the fuck’s with you, Todd?” the guy facing us said, some skinny kid in a baseball jersey.
Then he saw me, and his mouth fell open.
They stood up, drawing guns.
“Easy,” I said.
Todd was quietly praying. Poor bastard.
“Who the fuck are you?” the man closest to me said. He had on a backwards hat.
“My name’s Matteo,” I said. “And I’m here to talk with whoever runs this house.”
“Runs what house?” Jersey said. “You made a mistake, friend.”
“He knows who we are,” Todd said with a whine in his voice. “Guys, please just get Cullen.”
My feet began to tingle and a chill ran up my legs. Cullen, Cullen, that name echoed in my skull. He was the lieutenant I was sent to kill that first night, back when I slept with Sam and got her pregnant. He was the reason I was in this mess to begin with and now I was finally getting my chance to face him.
“Fuck that,” Hat said. “We’re three on one.”
“You make a move, your friend dies,” I said. “How much do you care about Todd?” I didn’t think very much, but I wasn’t interested in actually finding out.
“Stay here,” Jersey said, creeping to the door. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Hat glared at me, but he didn’t try to argue. Jersey left the room and ran up the steps. I stood in a stare-down with Hat while Todd kept praying quietly to himself, probably convinced that he was about to die. Fact was, he didn’t have a very good shot at surviving this, unfortunately. Hat seemed like he was ready for a fight, which meant Todd was going to take a few bullets in the process.
Fortunately though, nobody made any moves, and Jersey came back with Cullen in tow.
I’d recognize Cullen anywhere. I was stalking him for weeks through Healy territory. I practically had the guy’s picture hung up in my bathroom, I was so obsessed with the bastard. He had short, choppy hair, a broken nose, a scowl like the Grand Canyon, and an athletic build. He wore jeans and a Flyers t-shirt, and he looked like he wanted to murder everyone.
Cullen, that motherfucker.
“Who the fuck are you?” he barked, pushing past Jersey.
“Matteo,” I said. “From the Valentino family. God, Cullen, you don’t know how happy I am to see you.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Can’t say the same.”
“I’ve been looking for you. Remember that night, at that orgy party? You fucked some girl upstairs? She was ugly as hell, but hey, willing at least, right?”
Cullen looked off-balance. He shook his head, bewildered. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That was the night I met Sam,” I said. “Got her pregnant in the room next to yours. When I was done with the first round, I went looking for you, but I guess you pumped and dumped nice and quick, because you were gone. Shame that I took my time, but Sam’s not the kind of girl you rush. She’s the savoring type.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Cullen said, throwing his hands up.
“I’ve got a message for your boss,” I said. “Tell Colm that Matteo and Don Valentino have Sam. Tell Colm that we want to talk to him before anything gets worse.”
“Valentino scum,” Hat barked. “What are we waiting for? Let’s kill him and be done with this.”
“Todd’s in the way,” Jersey said. “Shut up, okay?”
“Go tell Colm I was here,” I said. “Tell Colm I want to talk.”
“That’s all?” Cullen asked. “You break in here and that’s all you want? You could’ve come to any bar in the city, found one of our guys, and passed along the message. Why the theatrics?”
I grinned over Todd’s shoulder. Cullen wasn’t as dumb as he seemed. “Because I want you people to know that I can hit you anytime, anywhere. I know your family, and I’m going to know even more. So Colm needs to talk, and he needs to do it soon.”
“Fuck this,” Hat said, and pointed the gun at my face.
Dumb asshole. I ducked down behind Todd as Hat pulled the trigger. Todd screamed as I raised my own weapon up next to his head and shot Hat in the skull, cracking his brains out all over the table. Jersey shouted something and started shooting, and I tackled Todd to the side, knocking him out of the way as I hit the floor and skidded, firing three rounds into Jersey. He staggered back, blood blooming all over his chest, and hit the floor.
Cullen hadn’t moved the whole time. He stood there, jaw clenched, and stared at his two dead guys.
Todd, for his part, was still alive. Good old Todd.
I got up and patted him on the arm for good measure. He was a lovely human shield.
“Tell Colm I was here,” I said.
Cullen only stared at me as I backed out, gun raised. I stepped out into the night, then sprinted to the wall, jumped it, and ran down the block to my truck.
I got inside and sped back toward the mansion.
That message would reach Colm, no doubt in my mind. The best way to make sure the boss heard was to spill some blood, and although that hadn’t been my intention, those stupid go
ons made it easy for me.
And hey, Todd made it out all right, which was a bonus. For him, anyway.
10
Sam
I woke up the next morning to at least twenty texts and ten missed phone calls.
I stared at my phone then set it aside. I squeezed my eyes shut, not ready to deal with that shit. My family would be worried, or at least my extended family, when my dad finally told them that I was with the Valentinos. For now though, I wanted to enjoy myself.
I burrowed deep into a pile of soft blankets and pillows. The bed was like a cloud caressing my body. I sighed and looked at the strange room, at the fireplace and the little sitting area, at the attached bathroom and the huge, antique vanity, and I wondered if all the rooms in this place were like this. I guessed they were—when Bea gave me the tour, I realized that the manor was more like a hotel. Don Valentino wasn’t joking about living in the same place and never seeing each other.
I got up, went into the bathroom, and took a shower. When I came out, I felt fresh and awake, and dug into the drawers for some clean clothes. Bea left some things out for me, apparently pillaged from the Don’s wife’s closet. I pulled on a pair of sweats that fit and a simple Metallica t-shirt then finally picked up my phone.
The first ten messages were all from Nessa, begging me to forgive her.
And then there was a message from her, a few hours later, that made my jaw fall open. Your new boyfriend killed Mikey and JonJon last night, what the hell R U doing??
I didn’t know what to say. As far as I knew, Matteo was staying in the manor, but he could’ve left. I hadn’t seen him all night, although mostly I’d been in my room watching TV and figuring out how to use the gas fireplace. I texted her back then checked the other messages, and slowly a picture of what had happened began to form.
Anger rose through me and I stormed into the hallway. Matteo’s room was at the far end and I marched down there, trying to keep myself calm, and totally failing. I banged on his door until he answered it, wearing only a pair of gym shorts and nothing else, his hair a mess from sleep, his eyes ringed in red. His muscular, handsome frame filled the doorway, and I stared at the familiar chest and skin, and had a short flashback to the night I got pregnant.