by Hamel, B. B.
Then I remembered why I was there and shoved my phone in his face. “Explain why you were killing members of my family last night.”
He blinked at it and slowly pushed it away. “That was a misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?” I gaped at him. “You murdered two Healy members. The one was my second cousin.”
“Which one? Hat or Jersey?”
I threw my hands up. I didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about. “His name was JonJon.”
“I spared Todd,” he said, shrugging. “What can I do? They shot first.”
“I don’t care who shot when, you can’t kill people in my family.” I stepped forward and shoved his chest. It was like trying to push granite, so I tried to hit him with my fists instead. I wanted to hurt him for all the hurt he caused me. JonJon was a decent guy, although Mikey was kind of an asshole. Still, neither of them deserved to die, and Matteo killed them, murdered them last night after talking about making peace with my family. How the hell could we make peace if they kept on killing? He stood there and took it, until finally grabbing my wrists and wrestling me inside.
“Get off me,” I growled as he kicked the door shut.
“You gotta calm down.”
“Fuck you.” I tried to knee him in the balls and barely missed.
He grunted and threw me onto the bed. I stared at him, breathing hard, thinking about my dead family, all those dead young men gone before their time.
“I went to send them a message,” Matteo said, standing over me. I glared up at him and tried to make his skull explode with my head. “I didn’t plan on hurting anyone, but one of your cousins shot at me. I had no choice.”
“You shouldn’t have gone then,” I said, sitting up.
He stepped back and took a deep breath. “Maybe not,” he said slowly. “But it happened. I didn’t plan on hurting anyone, but they chose it. They shot at me.”
“What were you thinking?” I asked softly. “Why would you even go talk to them?”
“Had to send a message to Colm. They need to know we have you.”
“I can tell them that myself,” I said, almost snarling. “What is wrong with you?”
“You don’t get it, do you?” He cocked his head. “You’re in our house now. You’re going to be my wife.”
“And they’re my family.” I stood up and stared right back at him, trying to keep myself under control, and failing again. I wanted to punch him in that square, pretty jaw. I wanted to see his nose bleed.
“I know you’re pissed, but it worked. Colm reached out this morning.”
I hesitated, surprised. I hadn’t seen anything about that in my messages—but of course they wouldn’t tell me anything about it. I was unimportant toy my family, especially now that I was on the other side.
I felt a sudden twist of uncertainty. All those people, my friends and family, they’d all think I was a traitor. Even if I never asked for this, and I was only doing it to try to end this stupid war, they’d still see me living in the Valentino mansion, and they’d assume the worst. I hated that Matteo made this decision for me and told them about what happened. I hated that I wasn’t the one to break that news.
And I hated my father for being a coward and keeping it to himself.
Most of all, I hated myself for not doing it sooner.
“What are we going to do?” I asked softly.
“It’s just two dead soldiers,” he said. “They’ll get over it.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I stormed across the room, pacing back and forth. “You’re acting like it’s no big deal that you killed them.”
“Cullen was there,” he said, watching me.
“And? Why do I care?”
“He saw what happened. He’ll tell Colm.”
“Good for you then. I guess they’ll know that you only murdered two people because they tried to murder you first.”
He shrugged, gesturing vaguely in the air. “It makes a difference.”
“Not to me.” I stared at him violently. “I want this war to end. And I want to be free. How the hell am I going to do either of those things when you’re killing people?”
He took a breath and let it out. He scratched at his head and I stared at the muscles in his arms, then down to his defined chest and abs, and had to rip my eyes back up to his face. He smirked at me, like he knew what I was thinking, the bastard, the pretty monster.
“Marry me,” he said, walking toward me slowly. “Be my wife. Let me keep that baby growing inside of you. Let me take care of whatever you need.”
“Stop killing my family,” I whispered as he stopped inches in front of me.
“I promise I’ll stop killing them.” Then he kissed me gently, his lips delicious and soft against mine.
I pulled away. “If I do this, it’s to end the war. It’s to have leverage over Colm and that’s it. You have to make the Don tell the rest of your family to stop killing Healys. We need a ceasefire.”
“All right,” he said, nodding slowly as I disentangled myself from him with some effort. “I’ll make him promise.”
“Good,” I said, walking away. I felt on edge, like an electric current ran through my limbs. “I have to make a hundred phone calls.”
“Wait,” he said, following me. He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back against him. I didn’t bother trying to struggle—he was bigger than me, and I knew he could throw me down onto that bed and pin me there with ease if he wanted.
“What?” I asked. “How much harder do you need to make this?”
He kissed me again, harder this time, tongue sliding against mine. I moaned into that kiss, damn him. He needed to make it a lot harder, the bastard.
“We’re going to make it official tomorrow,” he whispered. “The Don will bring a priest. We’ll sign some papers, say some words.”
“The wedding of my dreams.” I glared at him, hated him, and loved his hands on my hips and his lips inches from mine.
“There won’t be a white dress,” he said. “But I’ll get you a ring. And after that, we’ll finish this war without blood.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
I stood on my toes and kissed him. “Don’t lie to me again,” I said and tore myself away, as much as I wanted to stay right there in his arms.
“No white dress,” he repeated. “No flowers, no bullshit, but tomorrow, little Sam, you’re going to be all mine.”
I felt his eyes on me as I left his room and slammed his door shut behind me.
I cried as I walked back to my room. Not because the thought of marrying him didn’t sound good—it did so much that it frightened me—but because I knew that after all this, I could never go home. There was no more home waiting for me.
I had something else. I had Matteo, and I’d give myself over to him if it meant saving more lives in the process.
No choice, never any choice, except for him.
11
Matteo
Sam stared out the window of my truck as I navigated through the suburbs, heading east toward a place called Glenside. It was an old neighborhood, built out in the ‘20s when rich city folks wanted a little vacation in the summer, and helped by the train line that ran up through it. The houses were small and packed close together, but once upon a time they were the getaways of the wealthiest. Now it was a working-class neighborhood, and the irony of that wasn’t lost on me as I pulled into the small downtown area.
It was a cute place. The bank looked original, with big glass doors and a tall, peaked roof. The shops were small and cramped, and I parked along the curb outside of a place called the Glenside Pub. I got out but Sam hesitated, staring out at me before finally following.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “I don’t want to go in there. I’m not sure what Colm’s going to do.”
“I’m sure,” I said, glancing down the street. I recognized several cars along the block. “Don Valentino sent backup.”
She chewed her lip and looked around, but only sighed. The neighborhood sloped up a hill and ended at a small college at an intersection lost in a small copse of trees called Arcadia. I pushed to have the meeting there, but Colm insisted on someplace inside, and I couldn’t blame him. He probably figured we’d try to kill him, if he were out in the open.
And he was right, we probably would.
I pushed in through the door and into the pub. Sam followed close, right on my heels. I could almost feel her anxiety as we stepped into the dark place. Signs hung from the ceiling, small signs from local businesses, some of them no bigger than a business card. The walls were plastered in posters and flyers for more local spots, and some of them looked at least fifty or sixty years old. There was a bar on the left and booths ringed the room on the left and all the way around to the other side. It was smoky, though nobody was actually smoking—the place probably felt perpetually filled with cigarette stink. The chairs at the bar were green, vinyl, and ancient, and the whole place was cramped and surprisingly crowded.
A cheerful waitress with short dark hair waved. “Grab a seat anywhere,” she said. “I’ll be with you folks in a second.”
“Thanks,” I said, craning my neck. “But I think I see my friends.”
She shrugged and went back to filling a drink order as I pushed forward. The patrons ignored us as I went around the bar to the far side and headed toward where Colm Healy sat with young man with dark black hair and freckles across his nose. I recognized him as Shaun Healy, one of the many young Healy cousins and another freaking Sean or Shawn or Shaun, and one of the more aggressive men in the family.
It wasn’t a good sign, if Colm brought him.
I approached, hands by my side where they could see them. Both men were hunched over a beer. Shaun glared at me, then practically snarled at Sam, but Colm grinned broadly and stood.
“I didn’t think you’d show,” he said.
“I figured this was neutral enough ground.”
“And it helps that your Don sent a bunch of men to surround the place.” Colm laughed, shaking his head. “Not like I didn’t do the same.”
“He’ll respect the truce if you do.”
Colm gestured toward the seats next to him. “Come on and sit,” he said. “Have a drink. It’s not every day you can drink with the enemy.”
Shaun sat on Colm’s other side, glowering at us the whole time. I ordered a whiskey and Sam asked for a Coke. The bartender returned with the drinks as Colm eyed Sam happily.
“No alcohol for you?” he asked, then sighed. “I suppose not. Wouldn’t be good for the baby.”
Sam didn’t look at Colm. She stared straight ahead, like the man didn’t exist.
“Why don’t you leave her alone and talk to me,” I said.
“That girl’s my niece,” Colm said softly, eyes narrowing. “I can speak to her whenever I wish. You’re not a part of this family, even if you did get your kid in her belly.”
“We’re not here to talk about me, Uncle Colm,” Sam blurted out and finally looked at him. “Matteo wants to talk about peace. You know, that thing you always insist the Valentinos don’t want.”
Colm’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, peace, is it?” He laughed and shook his head. “I find that hard to believe. The last time we spoke peace, my brother ended up dead. Too bad I have a lot of brothers, but still.”
“That’s not true,” I said through a clenched jaw. We did kill one of his brothers, but it wasn’t during peace talks.
Colm waved that away as if it didn’t matter, and I got the sense that he was performing for Shaun, who only sat there drinking and barely glanced in my direction.
“If it’s peace you want, then what’s the price for it?”
“Don Valentino’s willing to offer you a truce. Terms are simple. You stay on your side of the Schuylkill, and we stay on ours. No more fighting for turf. No more encroaching on our territory. No more bodies.”
“I see,” Colm said, nodding. He sipped his drink. “You think that’s worth it, then?”
“I think you have no chance to take ground from us. You haven’t been able to do it yet and I doubt you’ll ever have the strength.”
“Think again,” Shaun snarled, but Colm held a hand up like he was telling a dog to heel, and Shaun shut his mouth.
“Go on,” Colm said.
“We could move into West Philly, but we don’t want to waste the lives to do it,” I said, ignoring the death stares I got from Shaun. “Business is good in the rest of the city, and fighting for some scraps isn’t worth our time.”
“If West Philly’s all scraps, why do you think I’d be happy with that?” Colm asked. “My family’s gaining strength all the time. You really think we’d stop and be happy with scraps?”
“I think you’re lying to yourself if you think you’re getting stronger. Your recruitment’s slowing and you can’t reproduce fast enough to replace every cousin and uncle we kill.”
Colm narrowed his eyes but said nothing. I took a long pull from my whiskey and felt Sam shift beside me, uncomfortable and trying not to look at her uncle. I could only guess what was going on inside of her right in that moment, and it couldn’t have been good. Her uncle acted as though nothing strange was happening, but I could feel the tension beneath everything. The Healys cared about family above anything else, and I knew that Sam getting pregnant by a Valentino must’ve been tearing Colm and Shaun to pieces.
“You Valentinos have always been spoiled and arrogant,” Colm said, nodding to himself. Shaun grinned viciously like he was excited for a fight. “You run this city like you’ll always be in power. But there was a time when you were nothing, and another family held sway, and there will be a time when all of you are gone. Don’t pretend like the Valentinos are forever.”
“I’m only thinking about right now,” I said, meeting his eye. “Sam and I are going to get married. If you bless that—”
Colm recoiled like I’d slapped him. Shaun’s mouth fell open, gaping at me. “You’re doing what?” Colm snapped.
“Getting married,” I said. “That baby inside of her needs a father, and I’m not the kind of man to walk away from my responsibility.”
“You’re going to marry this Valentino bastard?” Colm asked, staring at his niece.
Sam didn’t move. She spun the glass of Coke around in circles, watching the ice press against the glass.
“Answer him, bitch,” Shaun said.
I glared at the lieutenant. “Talk to her again like that, and I don’t give a fuck if I make this war even worse.”
Shaun showed his teeth like an ape ready to go to war.
“Enough,” Colm said, taking a deep breath. “I won’t bless a marriage between you two, and I don’t want peace. You know what I want? I want the Valentino family to pay for all the lives they’ve taken from my people. Talk to your Don and tell him I want reparations for everything I’ve lost.”
“And what about all our men that you’ve killed?” I asked, laughing. The idea of paying the Healys anything was absurd. “You’ve been the aggressors. You’re the one perpetuating this conflict. Sam and I represent the future, and this baby could be a symbol that brings our two organizations together. Instead, all you can think about is yourself.”
“Fuck you,” Shaun said.
Colm held up a hand again, clenching his teeth together. “I made my offer,” he said. “If your Don is serious, then he’ll consider it. I want reparations, and then maybe I will stay in West Philly.” He dropped his hand and leaned toward me, and I could smell the beer on his breath. “But listen to me now, boy. You will never be anything more than a Valentino pig. I don’t give a damn if you marry my niece. I don’t care if you’re the father of her child. You will always be garbage in my eyes.”
Shaun laughed and I only met Colm’s gaze as steadily as I could. Slowly Colm got to his feet and tossed some cash onto the bar.
“I’ll tell the Don what we talked about,” I said, watching him carefully fo
r any sudden movements. “But I’m promising you right now, he won’t go for it.”
“Then this is finished.” Colm began to walk away, but Sam suddenly stood up in his path and stared at him, her eyes wide.
I went to reach for her, but she shrugged me away. She glared at her uncle, the muscles in her arms straining like she wanted to punch him in the face and was being held back by some invisible force. Colm didn’t move and looked surprised as he tilted his head to one side. Shaun stood behind him, hands balled into fists as if he might hit the girl.
“For years you’ve been talking about the Valentino family like they refused to consider ending the war,” Sam said quietly. “You acted like they were the monsters and you were the one begging for peace. But that’s always been a lie, hasn’t it?”
“You spend a few days in their mansion and suddenly you love them.” He laughed once, ugly and bitter. “That’s right, I know where you’ve been staying. You can’t hide from me, girl. Your father wants you back, and I’ll help him bring you home.”
“I’ll never come back to you,” Sam said. “You’re a liar and a bastard. If you loved the family at all, you’d take the Don up on his offer. Stay in West Philly, run your business, and save some lives. It’s more than you deserve.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Colm said.
I stood up then and moved close to Sam. “You should go,” I said.
Colm smiled sweetly at me then slipped past us. Shaun gave me one last deadly stare before following his boss. I kept them both in sight as I put my hand on Sam’s arm. She was trembling, and I could almost feel the anger radiating out of her.
“Those bastards,” she whispered. “They never meant any of it.”
“No, they didn’t,” I said. “I have a feeling he only took this meeting so he could say he met with us. I’m sure he’ll spin some lie to the rest of the family, and Shaun will back him up, because Shaun wants war above anything else.”