Last Words (Morelli Family, #7)

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Last Words (Morelli Family, #7) Page 16

by Sam Mariano


  “Shut up,” Dante says, glaring at his younger brother. “Took you long enough to get over here. Hold a gun on Mateo’s whore so I can go help Rafe out.”

  I shake my head as Alec approaches. He takes my arm to keep me boxed in over here by the wall, but his touch doesn’t hurt like Dante’s did. Despite the lack of aggression in his hold, he does reach into his navy blue suit jacket and draw out a gun. “Please don’t do this. Alec, please. I’m pregnant.”

  “You’ll be all right,” he assures me. “We’re not going to kill you. Just settle down, it’ll all be over in a few minutes.”

  His calm is more alarming than anything.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask, desperate to understand.

  At least now, regret flickers across Alec’s face. “It wasn’t my idea.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question. Why would you go along with this?”

  “Because I want to survive, Mia,” he answers, simply. “You’ve rendered Mateo ineffective. He doesn’t do what needs doing and Dante… well, luckily Dante noticed before any outside threats could. I like you, Mia, but not enough to let you bring down my whole family. It’s bad enough you’ve brought down Mateo.”

  I sink back against the wall, horrified by his words. My chest fills up with anxiety, my mind swirling with emotions, all competing with one another to tear me apart. I shake my head in useless denial, but no measure of vehemence that he’s wrong clears the room of traitors and makes the man I love safe.

  Alec’s hand falls and he takes a step away. Rafe approaches now to take his place and my heart doesn’t know what to feel. On one hand, Rafe has been my protector once before, the person who saved me.

  Now he’s the opposite. Now he’s the harbinger of fears so dark, I didn’t even know I should be having them.

  “You’re pale,” he states, as Alec walks around to the other side of the bed.

  “Why?” I ask shakily, tears springing to my eyes. “Please. Please don’t do this. Please don’t let them do this. I’m begging you.”

  Wrapping a strong arm around my shoulders, Rafe assures me, “You’ll have plenty of time to beg me from now on, little one. I’m afraid I can’t help you with this.”

  I can barely walk, my legs are shaking so badly. I need Adrian. I need… the emergency phone.

  I grasp my stomach, doubling over. Rafe’s hand immediately goes to my back, instinctively checking on me. “Are you okay?”

  “Morning sickness,” I tell him, turning and running to the bathroom.

  Once inside, I dart to the vanity, ripping open the bottom drawer and grabbing the phone Mateo keeps there for emergencies. It’s plugged into a charger, so I unhook it and slide my finger across the screen, shakily tapping the contacts icon.

  An iron grip takes hold of my wrist, prying the phone from my fingers. “You know, if you’re going to cry morning sickness, you should at least feign some vomit noises,” Rafe states, dropping the phone in the sink and turning on the faucet. He cocks an eyebrow at me, unimpressed with my faking proficiency. Once the phone is good and ruined, he turns the faucet off and hauls me back to the bedroom.

  Mateo is up off the floor now, but that’s almost worse. My heart hammers at the sight of my strong, clever husband restrained like this. His lip is split open, blood streaking his chin. There’s still fire in his brown eyes, but Dante has his arms locked behind his back and Alec is walking behind him with a gun pointed at his head.

  Rafe pushes me on the bed.

  I’m too busy watching them march Mateo across the room to remain upright, but I get to my knees on the bed. Before I can climb back off, Rafe pushes me over and climbs on top of me, sitting on my hips and effectively pinning me down.

  “Get off me,” I cry, shoving at him.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he states, his tone firm. “I’m not here to hurt you. Just stay put so we can get this done and keep you safe.”

  “Yeah, this isn’t the only task on the to-do list tonight,” Dante states. “We’ve got to take care of your other husband, and I’m not much looking forward to that fight.”

  “I’m still hoping we can just shoot him while he sleeps,” Alec puts in. “I know it’s three on one, but I’ve seen him win fights with worse odds.”

  “Successful men don’t depend on luck,” Dante states, sounding vaguely agitated. “I’ll wake up his kid, take him along for incentive. Any fight he wants to put up is going to be tempered if I have my gun in his kid’s mouth.”

  Westley. Adrian.

  This cannot be happening.

  I can’t breathe. My chest works as I try to draw air into my lungs, but I fail.

  Rafe notices and tells me firmly, “Relax.” Tossing a look toward the door, he tells Dante, “Hurry up. Where’s Meg? I don’t trust her out of our sights.”

  What? They took Meg, too? Why would they do that?

  “I’ll get her,” Alec says, pivoting and heading for the hall.

  Somehow what I expect to see next is Meg trussed up, hands tied, maybe gagged Maybe she’ll come in accompanied by some other muscle. Taking her hostage doesn’t make any sense to me, unless it’s because she’s Roman’s mom, but considering Mateo’s current feelings for her, I don’t understand why they’re bringing her into this at all.

  Only, when she comes in the door, there’s no one managing her. There are no ropes or gags, nothing to indicate they’ve hurt or threatened her.

  The realization that dawns on me must be written all over my face. Rafe leans down, running the back of his hand along my jawline. “Come on, you didn’t think you could trust her, did you? After what she did?”

  I hear his words, but they don’t make it through the fog. My eyes are locked on Meg as she surveys the scene she’s walking into. First her gaze hits Dante and Alec, restraining Mateo. I can’t see the look on his face, but I assume murderous doesn’t begin to cover it. She flinches and looks away, her gaze automatically drawn to the bed. She sees Rafe first, since he’s on top of me. Then her gaze drops to me. She meets my gaze and I wait for something, anything, to disprove Rafe’s words.

  I don’t get it.

  She swallows, looking faintly guilty, but then she averts her gaze.

  I’m alone here.

  Help isn’t coming.

  They were just talking about Meg being out of sight, so she was clearly out in the hall. If she didn’t want to be there, she could have gone for help. She knows where the emergency phones are hidden. She could have called Adrian.

  Just like she could have told him Vince was waiting for me at the fucking bakery.

  The weight of my disappointment is nearly unbearable. Not just in her, but in all of this. I trusted these people—not Dante, but Rafe, Alec, Meg—and it’s going to cost me everything I love.

  I was wrong. People aren’t mostly good. People are mostly selfish, and I just don’t think like they do, so I always expect more. Generally it works out, but not this time.

  Everyone I love is completely fucked, and it’s all my fault.

  Suddenly I’m acutely aware of Rafe’s caress along my jawline. Rafe still has tenderness for me. I force my gaze away from the train wreck, away from Meg, away from Mateo, and look up at Rafe. I don’t have to force the tears that well up in my eyes, or the need on my face. I do need comforting. I do need protecting. I don’t want it from him, especially not right now, but he’s the only hope I have. Dante’s too mean, Alec’s a follower, Meg’s only loyal to herself—Rafe, though… I’ve appealed to him for help before. He may have expected a small fee, but he helped me. Mateo told me I did the right thing, that he wouldn’t have wanted me to do anything differently in that situation.

  I reach for Rafe, my fingers finding purchase on his sides. It’s all the encouragement he requires; he leans down until he’s on top of me more intimately now, chest to chest, face close, like a lover. I run an appreciative hand along his muscular back and draw his body close.

  “What do you want?” I ask, quietly.


  He gazes down at me, pushing my hair behind my ear. “Hm?”

  “Your wish list. The whole thing. Why are you doing this? Power?”

  “Of course,” he says, almost lazily as he runs a thumb across my cheek. “Everyone wants power, little one.”

  “You don’t have power in Vegas?”

  “I do. I can have more here.”

  I find myself nodding. That’s what I figured. I arch up so I can whisper in his ear. “Kill Dante. Take his spot. Pretend you were just going along with this to see how far he would take it. Mateo doesn’t trust Dante; he’ll be able to believe that.”

  When I pull back, I’m disheartened to see him smiling. Not the kind of smile that can mean anything good for me—the kind that says my attempt is absolutely adorable.

  I’ll show him fucking adorable.

  I reach a hand down between our bodies and find his cock. His amusement evaporates as I catch him in my palm, rubbing him through the fabric. “Please, Rafe. I need you. I need you to stop this. I need you to save Mateo.”

  Eyes closed, he murmurs, “Not sure this is the best way to convince me I should keep your husband alive.”

  It’s the only way I have. I arch against his chest, rubbing my breasts against his chest. “You wanted to fuck me in Vegas, didn’t you? What if you could?”

  “I plan to,” he states.

  I stall, but I realize that makes sense. He said something about me having plenty of time to beg later.

  “I won’t fuck you if you hurt Mateo,” I inform him.

  “I think you will,” he disagrees.

  “I won’t. You can take it from me, but it won’t be the same. Trust me.”

  “I’m not a rapist,” he mutters, his gaze darkening.

  “Good, then heed my words. I will never fuck you if you kill my husband. Never. Not ever. I’ll die first.”

  “You’ll change your mind,” he assures me. “My training methods are much different from Mateo’s. You’ll like being mine.”

  “Dante won’t let you keep me,” I fire back. “If you’re Dante’s number two…” I shake my head. “He hates me. He won’t let you keep me. He’ll kill me, Rafe.”

  Rafe shakes his head, unconvinced. “I take care of what’s mine, but I take care of business first. No reason for him to have a problem with it.”

  This isn’t working. Or, it’s not working quickly enough.

  My heart skips a couple of beats. I look away from Rafe, over at Mateo. They have him on the floor now. They’ve hit him more. My heart is a useless slab, pounded with a mallet and sliced apart with a cleaver. Broken is too insufficient a word, but I don’t have time to process that right now. There’s little time left, and Rafe stands to gain too much to help me this time. I don’t know what else to do.

  Dante hands Meg a gun. Why does he hand Meg a gun?

  He crouches down, helping Alec restrain Mateo. Now Meg takes a couple small steps forward. Alec is above Mateo on the floor, holding Mateo down, but he doesn’t seem to have a lot of strength left right now anyway. They’ve been hitting him. Now they’re both holding him down. He can’t defend himself.

  “Please… please no.”

  My heart. Everything hurts. This can’t be happening.

  “Meg!” I cry.

  Her gaze jumps to me like a deer in the headlights. Her hand is shaky, but I know she doesn’t like guns either. Mateo always used to tease us about how uncomfortable we were around something he and the other men carried around the house literally every day.

  “Don’t you dare,” I tell her, my voice shaking, but shrill toward the end. “Don’t you fucking dare, Meg.”

  She looks away from me, swallowing. Dante says something to her that I don’t hear and she lowers the gun, points it at Mateo.

  This fucking bitch. I have bled for her for years, and now she stands over my husband with a gun trained on his face.

  Fury burns through my veins, turning my fear molten and desperate. I grab Rafe by the shirt and yank him close. “Please. Please, I’ll do anything you want me to do, I’ll give you anything. I’ll give you everything. Please. Kill Meg. Kill Dante. Kill Alec. Kill them all. Save Mateo. Please. Please, Rafe. Please don’t let them do this.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Meg

  This is maybe the most stressful night of my life.

  I hear Rafe tell Alec to come out and get me—doesn’t trust me, he says.

  I walk inside the bedroom where I used to sleep, the bedroom where I fell in love, the bedroom where two of my three children were conceived. I feel emotionally removed, in a sense, like I’m visiting the movie set of my favorite show in the middle of a production. The magic is gone. The heart is gone. Whatever connected me to the show I loved, whatever I felt viewing it, it’s all gone now.

  But there’s danger. So much danger. My gaze is automatically drawn to the grappling men on my left. Mateo looks at me like he wants to kill me—which he does, so I guess at least right now he’s not lying. Dante’s eyes are wild, his adrenaline pumping as he fights with his brother. Alec is just along for the ride. He doesn’t hate Mateo or covet anything he has, he just looked at each side and picked the team he predicted would win, I guess.

  So did I, I guess.

  I wish they had done this part without me. Bringing me up here was Dante’s idea. Apparently Dante’s thirst for vengeance outweighs that of any other member of his family. He hates Mia, so he assumes I hate Mia. He thinks I’m bitter because I’m a woman. I couldn’t possibly just be equally as done with the relationship and happy for two people in love. I must be stewing and obsessing over it as I knit scarves in a rocking chair with my Mrs. Claus glasses perched on my wart-covered nose and 35 cats gathered on the floor around my feet.

  It’s like none of these assholes have seen what great legs I have.

  Probably wouldn’t influence Dante. I don’t have a man now, so why bother living? He’s a hardcore sexist, but I don’t hold it against him. He’s saving my life, so whatever floats his boat.

  I hate everything about this, though. I hate seeing Mateo’s muscles straining as he’s betrayed—again. I hate seeing two men I have lukewarm feelings for winning, and the one I actually like… well, he wants me dead though, so I guess this is the only way.

  Then there’s Rafe. My gaze swings toward the bed—I know before my eyes even land on them that’s where he’ll be with Mia. Men. It’s a struggle not to roll my fucking eyes, but there he is with Mia pinned beneath him on the bed. Of course she’s all lovely and vulnerable in a white satin robe that’s half falling off her. She’d let him sink his fangs into her soul and suck out as much as he needed. Fucking emotional vampire.

  She spots me, and boy is she confused. It doesn’t hit her right away that I’m here with them. For a minute, she doesn’t know what to think. Rafe caresses her jawline, but her gaze remains locked on mine. I watch as it lands, see the horror transform her pretty face.

  I look away. It makes me uncomfortable, the way she looks at me, like I’m the bad guy in the room. Not the impressive kind, just the wormy, sneaking into bedrooms while people sleep to betray them kind.

  Which I guess I am.

  I take a single step closer to where the men are, but then my gaze drifts back to the bed. Mia has changed modes. She’s focused on Rafe now. He was on top of her when I came in, but not like this. Now she’s soft beneath him, touching him, inviting him into her bubble. Her hips move against his like they were meant to. He looks at her in the unmistakable way of a man who wants to fuck a woman. One of her hands disappears between their bodies and my eyebrows rise.

  His head drifts back just slightly, his eyes closing. Is she…?

  What the fuck is she doing?

  Oh, shit. She’s trying to turn him. With her hand on his dick. And he’s already helped her once.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  I tap Alec on the shoulder. “Hey, we might have a problem.”

  He swats my hand away. “Not now.”

&nb
sp; “I’m not trying to sell you fucking Girl Scout cookies,” I snap. “It’s important.”

  He’s aggravated, but he spins around, his dark eyebrows rising expectantly. “Well? What is it?”

  “Mia.” I point to the bed.

  Alec’s gaze drifts to the bed but he rolls his eyes and immediately looks away, dismissing the scene. “Yeah, Rafe’s copping a feel; how shocking.”

  “Who hasn’t?” Dante adds, similarly unalarmed.

  They are not adequately threatened by her crack nipples.

  “Are you both fucking stupid?” I ask.

  Dante levels a glare so cold my body temperature drops a few degrees. I swallow and immediately mutter, “Sorry. I didn’t mean… Obviously you’re not stupid.”

  They’re both stupid, though.

  But they aren’t listening to me.

  I look back at the bed. Mia’s foot is working its way up Rafe’s leg. Her big blue eyes are all soft and sincere, screaming, “please help me, you big strong man,” while the rest of her body promises his cock a hefty reward for his service.

  God, she’s good. I wish they could teach that shit in a book. I have game, but not that kind. Mia could take over the world with her vagina. No wonder Mateo never lets her out of the house.

  Rafe’s a much harder read. I’ve spent five years with Mia; I know her deal. Rafe, not so much. I can’t tell if this is working, or he’s just enjoying the physical contact since she’s going to hate his guts within the next few minutes. I could never fully believe that he was on one side or the other until this happened, and even now I’m doubting his holding power. Even if she can’t turn him in time to save Mateo, if he’s planning to keep her as his pet, he’s going to sink into her the same way Mateo did. He’ll think he has a pet, the world will think he has a pet, even Mia might think she’s a pet—but she’ll be the one holding the leash between those pretty thighs of hers.

  What if this ruins Mia? What if Mateo’s death turns her dark? She knows I’m here with them; she’s never going to forgive me for this. Rafe only needs me alive for a brief period of time and he doesn’t much like me anyway… what if Mia goes vengeful? Maybe she doesn’t hold a grudge when she’s married to a man like Mateo because it suits her lifestyle, but for this? I’m helping them take her whole world away from her. Mateo is her world. He’s the moon and the stars, the one she snuggles up to each night, and the reason she wakes up in the morning. They’re insane, but they’re so wrapped up in one another at this point, I’m not even sure one can exist with the other gone.

 

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