by Sam Mariano
His gaze drops as he probably remembers how he helped make things terrible for me that particular morning.
I reach for his hand, pulling his attention back to me. “But the really, really good thing is, he’s giving me my freedom back. My life isn’t tied to us anymore, and… and he’s rewarding us.”
Knowing Mateo, he doesn’t appear convinced. “How?”
“He’s going to give us a place of our own. He’s going to let us move out, so things aren’t so hard. So we have a chance to just… be with each other. We’ll have something of our own. Something he won’t touch.”
“Something he won’t touch?” he reiterates, understandably doubtful.
“He gave me his word. Said the game’s over.”
Vince is still frowning. “The game’s over?”
“We’ll come for Sunday dinners, but that’s it. No more of… all this.”
I wait for him to accept it, but he doesn’t. I can understand why. It’ll take time, probably for both of us. I just want us to actually get that time.
“If you don’t want to, I guess maybe I could just go back to my mom’s. I know they’re moving in with Brax soon though, so they won’t have a room for me.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “No, I… I want to, I just… I don’t understand why he would do this. This isn’t his style. Mateo doesn’t let people out without a heavy payment for it. It’s for the most part unprecedented, and the only time I can think of him actually doing it is in exchange for five years of someone’s life. He’s letting us out because you didn’t talk? There’s no reward for not talking, just a penalty if you do.”
I shift on my knees, wishing he wouldn’t dig into it. “I think he felt bad for all he’s put us through.”
That only causes his scowl to deepen. “He doesn’t feel remorse.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” I finally say. “But can we just enjoy this? Who cares why?”
He meets my gaze, searching, and I’m terrified he’s going to find something. I can’t keep the fear from my eyes. I try belatedly to disguise it, but I start to feel sick, knowing I wasn’t fast enough.
Once he finds what he’s looking for or gives up searching for it, he leans back against the couch, his head falling back, and stares up at the ceiling. I feel hot all over, and not from the scalding shower I just took. I can’t come this far, do this much, only to lose him before we even have a chance.
But I can’t even blame him if he can’t do this with me. It’s a lot to handle, and we’re way too young for this shit.
Without looking at me, still staring at the ceiling, he says, “Tell me something, Mia.”
My chest feels hollow, knowing what’s coming. I don’t want to lie, but I can’t tell the truth. Mateo’s words come back to me and I’m so conflicted, I feel sick.
“Of course,” I murmur, hating how hesitant I sound.
Now he sits forward again, leaning on his thighs, and stares me straight in the eye. “Do you love me?”
Relief pours through me that that’s the question. “Yes,” I say immediately, grabbing his hand between mine. “Yes, I do.”
“Do you want to put Mateo behind us?”
I almost can’t breathe with how much. “So, so badly.”
Nodding slowly, still holding my gaze, he says, “Then let’s do it.”
I can hardly contain my joy, moving forward on my knees, wanting to kiss him. But I stop, because as much as I want to, I still feel so… soiled. If he had the images of Mateo’s mouth crashing against mine earlier that night, he wouldn’t want my kisses.
But he doesn’t, so he leans in and gives me the kiss I’m too hesitant to give him. I wrap my arms around his neck, rising up to reach him better. As I’m kissing Vince, and his arms wrap me in a hug that makes me think he’s as afraid as I am of what could come between us, I know the only way is to let it go. That’s why I did all this to begin with—so we could have our freedom. We’re not free of Mateo if I carry him with me.
I’ll lie. If he ever asks, I’ll lie.
And he’ll love me for it.
Chapter Thirty
I climb the three concrete stairs of the porch, using my hands as shields around my face so I can peer into the window of our new living room.
Amusement drips from Vince’s words. “You know there’s a key.”
“I like the carpet,” I tell him, ignoring his logic. “It looks soft.”
“And if we use this key here, we can go in and see if it is.”
I pull back from the window, placing a hand on my hip, and turn back to give him a discouraging stare. “This is our first place. Let me enjoy this.”
He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. I enjoy the lightness in him once more—it’s been a long time.
Mateo stands right next to Vince, hands shoved into the pockets of his long black coat. I’m surprised by how similar they look from here, both with their dark heads, similar heights, similar features.
At least if I would’ve been pregnant, it would’ve been hard to tell which one was the father without a test. Thankfully, it won’t be an issue.
I sigh, full of lightness myself.
“The carpet’s new,” Mateo remarks, smiling faintly at my enthusiasm. “And it is soft.”
“I love soft carpet,” I state, grinning and coming back down the steps to stand in the yard with them.
I stand by Vince and look back at the house. It’s a converted duplex, so only half the house is ours, but we don’t have to pay Mateo any rent.
“The other unit’s full at least through the summer. You can keep the rent from that one—that way you’ll have a little money to live on.”
Glancing at his cousin, Vince says, “You don’t want a cut?”
Mateo shakes his head. “I don’t need it. You will. It’s clean and in good repair, but it’s a far cry from what you’re used to.”
“No pool?” Vince asks, mockingly.
Smirking, Mateo says, “No pool.”
“I’m so okay with that,” I announce. “I’ve got by on a shoestring budget before, I can do it again.”
“You’ll have to teach me,” Vince says lightly.
Quirking an eyebrow, I say, “You’ll have to eat jarred spaghetti sauce.”
Clutching his heart, he asks, “Why do you wound me like this?”
I smile, leaning in and brushing a soft, impulsive kiss across his lips. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“Ooh,” he says, clearly approving.
“Okay, I’m gonna get out of here,” Mateo states, interrupting our flirting.
Vince smiles at me, winking before wrapping an arm around me and turning so we’re both facing Mateo. “Well… thank you for this,” Vince says.
Mateo nods, but there’s a spark in his eye I don’t like, and his eyes are on me. “Don’t thank me, thank Mia.”
Unprepared, I lose my smile, but Vince is still holding me in such a way he wouldn’t have seen. I paste it back on, a little less exuberant, and try to murder Mateo with my eyes.
“For not talking,” Mateo adds, after far too long a pause.
“Right,” Vince says, dryly.
Mateo doesn’t keep poking. Instead, he hands Vince the keys. “There’s not much in the way of furniture, but a truck will be by later with a bed, a couch, a TV—just enough to get you started.”
It feels real, maybe for the first time, when Mateo walks to the car waiting for him alone, and looks back to say, “I’ll see you both Sunday.”
For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, I’m not going to see Mateo at breakfast the next morning. I won’t pass his study, or walk the halls of his house wondering if I’ll see him around the next corner.
Vince holds up the keys, dangling them in front of me. “Our own place.”
I smile, aware of Mateo’s car pulling away. “Yep.”
“Ready to go in?” he asks.
“I think so.”
Vince smiles at me, taking my hand as
we walk up the steps. “It’s going to be so empty.”
“But full of love,” I joke.
Pulling a face, he says, “Ew, gross.”
I elbow him in the side and he pulls me close, giving me a squeeze.
The living room is tiny, but perfect, since we won’t have much to fill it with. Since there’s no furniture, I sit down on the floor and cross my legs, looking around.
Vince sits down with me, following my gaze as if to see what I’m looking at.
“I think we put the TV over there,” I announce, nodding confidently.
Vince agrees, jerking a thumb toward the wall behind us. “Couch back here.”
“Yep. We’re not going to be able to afford cable, so we should borrow all of Joey’s Jason Statham movies.”
Snorting, he wraps his arms around me and tugs me back against him. “I can think of far better uses of our time.”
I let him pull me back, pulling a thoughtful face, resting my chin on my hand to really sell it. “Like what?”
In response, he leans down and brushes a soft kiss across my lips. I kiss him back, wrapping my arms around his neck at the awkward angle, and before I know it, we’re tugging clothes off and christening our brand new living room.
Afterward, curled in each other’s arms on the floor, I announce, “The carpet is soft.”
Vince snorts, tucking my head under his chin. “Good thing.”
We stay just like that for a long time—too long. We were supposed to bring in the stuff we had packed and brought over in Vince’s car, but before we even get dressed again, the furniture truck pulls up outside.
Scrambling to get dressed before they come up on the porch, I tell Vince, “Our first purchase has to be curtains.”
Since we never made it past the living room, Vince goes to make sure the path to the bedroom is clear for the movers, and I head out to the truck.
“Vince Morelli?” the man asks, glancing at his order sheet.
“Yep, this is Vince Morelli’s house.”
The second man rolls up the back of the truck, placing a ramp there. I move around to the back to look at the stuff, since Mateo never asked, just ordered it himself. It’s mostly what I expect as I watch them unload—a queen bed, a mid-size television with a stand, a charcoal gray sofa. Then the unexpected: a short three-shelf bookshelf and a single rectangular box.
Vince is down the hall, putting sheets on our new bed, so once the men bring it in, I take a moment alone to open the mystery box.
It’s my box of graphic novels.
On a gold-rimmed, cream colored card, scrawled in the handwriting I didn’t recognize the first time, it reads:
I can’t help smiling as I read it.
“I did it!” Vince calls, his voice louder as he comes down the hall. “All by myself. We don’t even need a maid.”
I stand, crushing the card in my fist and shoving it in my pocket, since we don’t have a garbage can yet. “Good job, baby,” I say, with a teasing wink.
“Those corners are no joke,” he states, glancing past me at the box. “What’s in there?”
Shaking my head dismissively, I tell him, “Oh, just some books.”
That doesn’t excite him in the least, so the box is already forgotten. Grabbing my hand, he tugs me down the hall. “Come look at how good I did.”
I grin at him, allowing him to pull me along. “I bet there’s never been a more neatly made bed anywhere, ever.”
“I can’t wait to mess it up,” he tells me, flashing me a smirk.
Checking the imaginary watch on my wrist, I say, “Then why should we? I got nothing else to do today.”
“Oh, you do now,” he assures me, pulling me in for a kiss as we back into the bedroom, then kicking the door shut behind us.
THE END… sorta. ;)
Want more Morelli in your life?
You can already pre-order the next book in the Morelli family saga… Mateo’s book. ;)
PREORDER ON AMAZON
If you haven’t read my Irreparable books yet, and you think you might like to, now would be a good time. You don’t have to read that duet in order to read this series, but that duet will have characters crossover into this one, and if you read the Morelli books first, you’re going to run into some major spoilers regarding those two books. Major!
You can buy Irreparable Damage and Irreparable Lives separately, or they’re available together in The Complete Irreparable Boxed Set
About the Author
Sam Mariano has been writing stories since before she could actually write. In college, she studied psychology and English, because apparently she never wanted to make any money!
Sam lives in Ohio with a fantastic little girl who loves to keep her from writing. She appreciates the opportunity to share her characters with you; they were tired of living and dying in her hard drive. (The Morellis actually did die in her old hard drive, but she resurrected them so you guys could meet them! You’re welcome, or she’s sorry, depending on how you feel right now.)
Feel free to find Sam on Facebook, Goodreads, Twitter, or her blog—she loves hearing from readers! She’s also available on Instagram now @sammarianobooks, and you can sign up for her totally-not-spammy newsletter HERE
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