by Sam Mariano
Last Words (Morelli Family, #7)
By
Sam Mariano
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination, or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Last Words (Morelli Family, #7) Copyright © 2017 by Sam Mariano
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Thank you for not being a pirate!
Acknowledgements:
Firstly, I want to thank the incredibly awesome readers who help spread the word about the Morelli family series! You guys are out there telling everyone about this #MorelliTrap you’ve fallen into, and I love it! Serious case of heart eyes! Whether you run a blog, have a book group, tell your friends they need to read the series, or just leave a review to let other readers know they need to get in on this crazy Morelli action: You guys are THE BEST!
Secondly, I have to thank Ajee, Andrea, and Serena for naming Roman! So many babies needing names, you guys totally helped me out there!
Thirdly, I want to thank Jennifer Curtis for enduring the emotional turmoil of alpha reading this series, even though you insist it’s taking years off your life!
Part
One
Chapter One
Mateo
There are a lot of different ways to deal with rats. You can get as creative or be as boring as you desire; the important thing is that every method produces the same end result: the rat is eliminated. You dispose of its carcass, dust off your hands, and go on with your life.
Simple.
Only nothing is ever simple anymore, not since Mia tripped and fell into my path five years ago. Life was simple when I didn’t love anyone. Love is a fucking complication, but as much I dislike complications, I very much enjoy the benefits of possessing Mia’s love. After a lifetime of relative numbness, she makes me feel. After many unfulfilling years of a hedonistic lifestyle, doing what I wanted, when I wanted, to whomever I wanted, now there are stakes. Mia called me ungovernable once and she was correct—I am ungovernable in the strictest sense of the word. But Mia found a loophole. Mia guilelessly exploits my greatest weakness—her love matters to me more than everything else in my life, and I could never stomach losing it.
As if she can hear my thoughts even in her sleep, my protective little wife snuggles closer to my body. Her face is peaceful because I’ve finally let her have peace. Her unconscious embrace reassures me that her love is all mine, but memories remind me of a time I wasn’t so sure. Beth withheld her love from me as a weapon. Mia only does it by accident, thankfully. I don’t know how I would keep a grasp on sanity if she ever learned she could weaponize her love and use it against me.
But she wouldn’t. That’s not who Mia is. I don’t trust many people, but I know I can trust Mia. I’ve put her through hell time and again over the years, watched asshole after asshole mistreat her in various ways, and somehow the well of her love does not run dry.
People are not so lucky where my well is concerned. The well of my love is more like a shallow dish that someone forgot to fill up all the way; an overwhelming majority of those droplets belong to the woman in my arms, so God help anyone who willfully hurts her.
Actually, no. God can’t help them now. Only Mia can. Mia is their god now, they just don’t know. Should she ever change her mind about being merciful, I will gleefully wipe out every last one of them without batting an eye.
God, I hope she changes her mind someday.
Mia sighs in her sleep, bringing my focus back to her. I swear, this woman came equipped with a fucking sensor. Anytime my moods get dark, she feels it. She does something to connect with me, to bring me back around. She reminds me I have something—everything—to lose now. She reminds me that she’s everything, and protecting the love she has for me is all that matters.
Well, aside from protecting her, period. That obviously matters the most. She can’t very well love me if she’s dead. I know she insists Ghost Mia will stay here and love me, but I’ll be too busy setting the world on fire to notice.
It makes me angry that I can’t just have a little fucking peace. It makes me fucking furious. I finally have something nice that I’d like to enjoy for a little while before the next fucking catastrophe, and some spiteful bitch has to get in my way.
Multiple spiteful bitches, actually. My gaze roves over Mia’s naked form and finally lingers on her abdomen. I trail my fingers down the gentle curve—she’s showing, but barely. Resting my hand there, I briefly contemplate the little half-Vince spawn growing inside my wife. That’s fucking annoying. I thought Vince was the only spiteful little bitch I had to deal with, but now that I have that one mostly in-hand, Meg pops up like the Jack in the Box from Hell with a bonus betrayal.
Then there’s Ben. Not so much a betrayal, just an old sack of trash that needs to be tied up and taken out. Speaking to me the way he did at our wedding, speaking to Mia that way in front of me—old man’s lost his goddamned mind. Of course, even that’s not simple. I can’t attack him openly at the moment; it’ll cause too many ripples I don’t want to deal with. I have to keep an eye on the old bastard and wait until the pieces are all in place.
Luckily, patience is the one virtue I possess.
My affectionate wife shifts against me in her sleep and her knee rubs me the wrong way—or the right way, depending on how you’re looking at things. She’s still sleeping, but she likes when I wake her up with sex. I have to head to the gym in a bit anyway and I feel like worshipping her body a little extra this morning, so I roll her over on her back and move halfway on top of her. She utters another sleepy little sigh and I smile, dragging my lips across her collar bone until I get to her neck. She’s awake now, shifting her body beneath mine, wrapping her loving arms around me. She tilts her neck to give me better access and I kiss my way up and down the sensitive column, absorbing every last pleasurable sound that escapes her.
I leave a trail down her neck, then I move lower. I bring my mouth to her breasts, lavishing attention on them one at a time, teasing her pearled nipples until she’s writhing and whimpering for me.
I need her mouth, so I move my attention to her lips, kissing her hard and opening her up for something deeper. Our tongues tangle for a moment, her fingers moving through my hair.
She breaks away, a little breathless. “Mateo, wait.”
I ignore her and kiss her again.
She shoves against my chest a little more urgently. “No, I’m serious.”
I barely have time to pull back and she’s launching herself off the bed, throwing the bathroom door open and running inside.
At least the sound of Mia tossing her cookies cools my passions. I’d like to say this is the first time this has happened, but the little half-Vince monster in her womb seems to have taken up its father’s cause and cockblocks me as frequently as possible.
Since I’m clearly not getting laid this morning, I’m up and out of bed when she makes her way back in, grimacing apologetically. “I’m so sorry, babe.”
“Not your fault,” I assure her, opening my dresser drawer and pulling out a black tank top.
“I brushed my teeth. We can start over,” she offers.
Smiling faintly, I pull my shirt on and glance back at her. “Don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep.”
Her lips turn down in an adorable little pout. “I feel bad.”
I pull on a pair of sweats and approach the bed, leaning down to kiss the pout right off her lips. “Don�
��t feel bad. Sleep. I’ll be seeing you at lunch.” I touch her stomach, giving it a tender rub. She always lights up when I do that, and now is no exception. She doesn’t hold a grudge against the little cockblock so I guess I don’t get to either. “You behave in there,” I tell it.
She beams at me, catching my shoulders and pulling me down for another kiss. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.”
She continues to hold onto me, resting her forehead against mine. “I love you more.”
She’s wrong, but I don’t tell her that. I just wink, kiss her forehead, and tell her to go back to sleep so I can meet Adrian at the gym.
He’s taking some aggressions out on a speed bag when I come in but he stops to give me a nod of greeting.
“You’re early,” he states.
“My favorite cardio got cancelled,” I say lightly.
Adrian grins, steadying the bag. “That kid hates you already.”
“He’s only got a few more months in there, so he better take all the revenge he can. Once he’s evicted, his reign of terror ends.”
“You kidding me?” Adrian asks, cocking an eyebrow. “Nope. Then it’s even worse. Middle of the night feedings, Mia exhausted all the time, the baby refusing to sleep unless it’s with her. You have kids. How do you not know this?”
“Beth relied heavily on Ju. With Meg, I split my time between her and Mia. I think this kid is going to be a different experience,” I inform him.
He can’t stop smirking. “Yeah, I think so, too.”
“I can’t believe I don’t get to kill that asshole,” I state, going over to the mini fridge and preemptively grabbing a cold bottle of water. “I could’ve put her off for probably five or six more years, but no. Vince has to fuck everything up.”
“At least she’s happy about it.” Adrian shrugs.
“Oh yeah, she’s a good sport,” I say dryly.
Jerking his head toward the sparring area, he says, “Warm up so I can hit you. I look forward to this more than pay day.”
---
After the gym, I shower and get dressed. Mia is still snuggled up in bed, one foot poking out from under her mountain of blankets. Since she’s asleep, I take a seat on the edge of the bed and watch her for a moment. I wonder what she dreams about today. She’s been having trouble sleeping lately—I’m not sure if it’s my fault or the baby’s. In the interest of protecting me, she won’t admit if it’s me. Maybe I’ll have Adrian ask next time he takes her out.
I have to kiss her again before I head downstairs to start my day, but she doesn’t stir.
I’m a little surprised to see Isabella and Lily in the kitchen. It’s summer so I expected them to be taking advantage of the opportunity to sleep in.
My own spawn greets me brightly, “Morning, Dad.”
I pause and kiss her on top of the head. “Morning.”
Lily pointedly turns her back to avoid greeting me. We’ve always managed to get along, but right now she’s pissed that I banished her treacherous mother to the dungeon.
“What are you two doing up so early?” I ask.
Maria is at the stove. She glances my way, then grabs three plates and starts dishing out food.
Upon noticing, Lily announces, “I’m not hungry.”
“Did you already eat?” I ask, casually.
“I’m on a hunger strike. I’ll eat when you bring my mom back upstairs,” she informs me, primly.
Somehow I manage not to smile. I love that she thinks she can guilt me. Kids are so fucking innocent.
I nod my head, walking past her to grab a coffee cup. “That seems like a good plan. Cuts down on my food costs, too. It’s not free to run this household, you know. As long as you eat every Sunday you’ll probably survive.”
My turning her protest into something that benefits me causes her to scowl hard. She tries again to wound me. “If I don’t, it’ll be all your fault. I hope you’re able to sleep at night.”
“I’m sure I’ll manage. I have a very comfortable bed,” I assure her, earning another scornful glare.
“We’re making unicorn slime,” Bella interjects, since no one answered my first question. “It’s Charlize’s birthday party today and we’re making slime to pass out for favors. It’s a unicorn party. They ordered the cake from Aunt Francesca. It’s so cool, she sent me pictures. You wanna see?”
Not at all, but I nod anyway. Bella runs over to show me a picture on her phone of a three-tiered rainbow cake with a unicorn horn sticking out of it. Jesus Christ, is this what kids like these days?
“She did a nice job,” I say, since I’m not sure what else to say about that particular atrocity.
Bella nods proudly. “She always does. Aunt Francesca is very talented.”
“You should be in charge of her testimonials,” I remark.
“What does that mean?”
I shake my head, pouring myself a cup of coffee. “Never mind.”
“Is Mia awake yet?” Bella asks. “She needs to braid our hair for the birthday party.”
“Not yet. Give her another hour or so. Your little brother or sister is being a royal pain in the ass today; she needs a little more sleep.”
Now Bella scowls at me. “It’s not his fault, he’s just growing. He’s worth a little morning sickness.”
“Jury’s still out on that one,” I state.
“Well, if he is a pain in the ass, at least we know he’s a Morelli,” Lily states.
I crack a smile, but my back is to her so she doesn’t see it. “Watch your language there, kid. You want to share a cell with your mom?”
She spins around to give me a wide-eyed look of astonishment. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
Huffing, she collects her bowl of rainbow colored glitter goop and hauls it over to the other side of the counter so she doesn’t have to be near me. I catch her muttering under her breath about a wicked step-father, but I let it slide.
Bella waves it off, assuring me, “She’ll be fine.”
“Why don’t you take her to the bookstore after the party,” I suggest. “She likes to buy new books. Tell her to go crazy.”
Beaming at me with all the approval of Mia, my lovely daughter nods. “Great idea, Dad.”
On the opposite end of the spectrum, Maria’s face is set in its usual lines of disapproval as she hands me my plate. “Thank you, Maria,” I say dryly, as I take it. Lips pursed, she nods and grabs a lid to cover her pan.
“Hey, since we’re going somewhere for Lily, can we go to Sephora for me?” Bella asks me as I walk past her. “I want to get my own lipstick. I think I’m old enough to start wearing make-up now.”
Frowning, I glance back at her. “I think you’re too young for make-up. This is not my area of expertise. Take it up with Mia.”
“We could ask my mom,” Lily says, giving up her pretense of not paying attention, “But we can’t because she’s in the dungeon.”
I point at her. “There you go. You can just steal Meg’s make-up; she doesn’t need it down there. Good call, Lil.”
She glares at me and I smile, finally heading to the dining room for a little peace and quiet.
Chapter Two
Meg
I expect Maria to bring me my breakfast, but I’m a little staggered when Mateo brings it down instead. It’s the first time he’s come down to see me, so I’m not sure what to make of it. Is he finally ready to talk to me, or does he have a decree? It must be something outside the norm or I imagine he would still be avoiding me like the plague, at least until Sunday. I don’t think it’s Sunday yet. The past two Sundays he’s sent Adrian for me, he certainly didn’t come himself.
I don’t move from my spot. It’s hard enough to get remotely comfortable down here when I have the circumference of an inner tube, but standing up is embarrassingly difficult and I refuse to struggle in front of him.
He doesn’t really care whether I eat or not anyway. I could leave all the food there to rot and he
wouldn’t lose a single wink of sleep. He pushes an apple through the slot and lets it fall, hitting the ground with a thud and rolling lamely. I watch it but I still don’t move.
Next he holds up a white plastic spoon and flicks it through the slot, letting it fall on the dirty ground.
I grit my teeth, but don’t move.
He drops a bottle of water in next, then shoves a closed container of presumably scrambled eggs through the slot. Every day it’s scrambled eggs. The container is well sealed, so despite him dropping it carelessly, it doesn’t spill; I’ll still be able to eat it once he leaves.
Frankly, I have the insulation of a mid-sized whale right now, so I would stop eating altogether before I would crawl over there in front of him and eat the food he carelessly deposited into my cell like I’m an animal.
“Service with a smile,” I say, flashing a faint smile of my own. “You’re too good to me.”
He isn’t amused, but he isn’t especially angry at this point, either. “You’re breathing. That’s more than you deserve.”
“I’m not sure that’s true,” I mutter.
His eyes narrow, but there’s still only coldness in their depths. “Fine. It’s more than I want to give you, how’s that? Every time you draw breath into your lungs, it offends me.”
That’s rude. I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him. “You’ve already kept me down here for two whole weeks. Are you ever going to let me come back upstairs?”
“Rats don’t belong above stairs, Meg. Rats live alone in the dark—and they should be thankful for every day they get to live.”
“I am not a rat. I wasn’t trying to hurt you—”
“I don’t care,” he states, not letting me finish. “I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses. You knew better. You’re supposed to be smart, aren’t you?”
I bite my tongue and let his insult roll off me. I have a more pressing concern to address. “I’m due in two weeks, Mateo. Labor could realistically start any day now, and you don’t even have a monitor down here. At least give me a baby monitor or something, some way to call for help if I need it.”