by Mia Knight
“I hear we’re not the only ones who got action,” Gavin said casually.
Her heart leaped into her throat. “What?” Did Marcus say something?
“I heard you killed your first man.”
She relaxed instantly. “Oh. Him. Yeah.” She was giddy with relief.
“You killed a man?” Angel’s expression was suddenly intense.
She folded her arms defensively across her chest. “I had to.” Neither man said anything, so she snapped, “And I’d do it again.”
Angel’s mouth curved into a delighted grin. “Babe, you keep getting better and better.”
Gavin looked at them and then declared, “Fuck, no.”
“What? We’re not related,” Angel said.
Gavin looked so horrified that Carmen couldn’t hold back a giggle. The devilish gleam in Angel’s eyes promised that she had a new partner in crime to antagonize the fuck out of Gavin.
“Not fucking happening,” Gavin decreed and pointed at the house. “Get out of here, Carmen. I need to talk to my cousin.”
She sauntered toward Angel and trailed her hand down his arm and murmured loud enough for Gavin to hear, “We’ll finish talking about fantasies later.”
“Fantasies? What the fuck, Angel?” Gavin snapped.
She smothered a laugh as she ran upstairs and headed to the master suite. She found Lyla in the bathroom, brush in hand, ghost white. Her eyes were puffy, and her lips were nearly colorless. Despite her wan appearance, a hardness in her eyes existed that hadn’t been there before. Lyla had come a long way from the fragile flower who ran from Gavin five years ago. Lyla morphed into a true crime lord’s wife. Even though her hair was still wet from her shower, Lyla had a gun in the waistband of her jeans.
Carmen rushed toward her and wrapped her in a tight hug.
“I fucking told you not to visit your mom in the hospital.” She couldn’t help herself. If Lyla hadn’t gone to the hospital, she wouldn’t have gone to Hell and endured whatever took place last night.
“Yeah.”
Carmen examined her glassy, bloodshot eyes. “Are you okay?”
Lyla stared at her for a pregnant moment before she shook her head. “No, but I will be.”
She braced her hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “Steven Vega?”
Lyla’s eyes kindled with rage. “He was there the whole time. He was tired of being bullied by his brother, his dad, Gavin … He put on the mask and became the man he wanted to be. It’s over now.”
“Yes, it is. Sit. I’ll do your hair.”
She pushed Lyla onto a bench in front of the vanity and took the brush from her. Lyla stared straight ahead. It was clear she was still in shock. Who wouldn’t be? Carmen let her be. Lyla lived in her head and needed time to work it out on her own, but she would get through this. She always did.
“Mom’s awake,” Lyla said quietly.
“Aunt Beatrice woke from the coma? Is she okay? Is she talking?”
“We got a call last night. I went to see her. She asked about Dad.”
Of course, Aunt Beatrice would ask about her worthless husband above everything else. Lyla wouldn’t meet her eyes in the mirror. She could feel the silent pain radiating off her cousin. She wrapped her arms around her from behind.
“You did what you had to, Lyla. Your dad would kill Nora—”
“I know,” Lyla said and shook her head. “I couldn’t tell her what I did. I just said he was dead. She didn’t ask who killed him.”
Lyla couldn’t catch a break to save her life. She survived Hell and now had to deal with her mother who woke from a coma, asking for her husband who Lyla killed in self-defense. She gave Lyla another squeeze and kiss on the cheek before she resumed brushing her hair. “Just leave it be, Lyla. You have time. It’ll work out.”
“You think we can have a happily ever after?” Lyla asked quietly.
“You and Gavin deserve it.”
Lyla met her eyes in the mirror. “And you too, Carmen.”
She blinked hastily and focused on French braiding her hair. “I need to tell Vinny it’s over.”
Lyla nodded. “And we can finally spread Manny’s ashes. It never felt right before. I miss him so much.”
Vinny and Manny, gone too fucking soon. She breathed through the pain as she finished the braid. “I know.”
Lyla reached back and grasped her hand. “We got him, Carmen.”
Their eyes met in the mirror.
“I threw a dagger in his back and crushed his bones with a shield. Gavin ran him through with eight swords, and then Lucifer cut off his head.”
“You crushed his bones with a shield?”
“Oh, and I kicked his severed head into the stands.”
She would have taken great delight in getting her shot at Vega for all the pain he caused her family, but it seemed that Lyla and the others had taken care of it. He died in pain. That had to be enough for her. She looped her arms around Lyla’s neck and pressed her cheek to her cousin’s. “You’re a fucking savage. I’m so proud. You’re a true crime lord’s wife.”
The corner of Lyla’s mouth twitched. “I’m the wife of a retired crime lord.”
“Yes. I just met Angel.”
“I’m worried,” Lyla murmured.
“Why?”
“He’s family. I don’t want him in the line of fire.”
Carmen read between the lines. “Angel isn’t Vinny.”
“But …”
“Let Angel and Gavin deal with it. We’re going to move on and watch Nora grow up and drive Gavin crazy. We’re going to laugh, eat, and enjoy life because we fucking deserve it. We made it, Lyla. He didn’t break us.”
“You’re different today.”
She smoothed Lyla’s hair. “What do you mean?” She wasn’t about to tell Lyla she fucked Marcus while Lyla battled for her life in Hell.
“You’re excited about something.”
“I can finally let him go. I want to try to find some kind of normal.”
“Some kind of normal,” Lyla repeated and nodded. “Sounds about right. Thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”
“What’s family for?”
“So you’re leaving?” At Carmen’s nod, she said, “Tell Aunt Isabel that Mom woke up.”
“Will do. I’ll be in touch, babe.”
She gave Lyla another hug before she went to the guest bedroom and crammed as much of her shit as she could in a bag. She would come back for the rest later. The need to see Vinny was riding her hard. It was the last step to complete before she started over. It wouldn’t be official until she told him Vega was dead.
She headed downstairs with her overnight bag slung over her shoulder. Blade and two guards stood in the foyer, conversing in low tones. Blade caught sight of her and jerked his head at the men, who immediately exited. Blade had been Gavin’s shadow for as long as she could remember. His position in the household blurred since he became Lyla’s bodyguard and Nora’s godfather. When Lyla went rogue and stole a car, she saw a break in Blade’s stoic demeanor. He went ballistic, revealing that Lyla’s welfare was more than just a job to him.
“You’re alive!” she chirped.
Blade didn’t crack a smile. His stony face was even more imposing than normal since he sported an angry gash on his cheek. He normally dressed in a suit to conceal the fact he was always armed, but today, he wore jeans and a tee with the double shoulder holster on full display. It looked damn good on him.
Blade took the overnight bag from her. She thought this was an unusually solicitous gesture on his part until he dropped her bag on the ground.
She shoved him. “What the hell, Blade? I have expensive shit in there!”
“You can buy more,” he said heartlessly. “Why’d you try to shoot Marcus?”
Damn tattletale security. “Because I thought he might be in with Vega.”
Blade blinked. “Marcus?” His incredulous tone made it clear he thought the suggestion was ludicrous.
“Why couldn’t he side with Vega?”
“Because he wouldn’t.”
Blade was naturally suspicious, yet he didn’t hesitate to vouch for Marcus. “Why?”
He gave her a hard look. “Ask Gavin.”
“That’s your answer for everything,” she grumbled. “You’re so dramatic. Did you sleep at all?” Knowing Blade, he hadn’t slept since they returned from Hell. She grasped the edge of his shirt and lifted to see if he had wounds like Gavin and Angel. “Did you get whipped too?”
Blade knocked her hand away, but not before she got a glimpse of his carved abs. It wasn’t the first time she saw his body. She’d gotten glimpses when they worked out in the past, but this was the first time she was interested in a more thorough examination. “Come on, Blade. Don’t be such a baby.”
He bared his teeth. “I’m fine.”
She ignored his warning and gripped his chin. “Did someone clean this? You don’t want another scar.” Her eyes flicked up to the thin cut on his eyebrow.
“What do I care about scars?” He grabbed her wrist and yanked it off his face. “Why are you touching me?”
“I’m checking you out.”
“Why?”
“Because all of you are too stupid and macho to get your injuries checked out. Gavin and Angel have whip lashes on their bodies and who knows what else? What about you?”
“I don’t have any lashes.”
“How did you get that cut on your face?”
“Machete.”
“A machete,” she repeated and shook her head. None of the guys who’d gone into battle last night left unscathed. “I should call a doctor.”
“You should see the other guys.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, they’re dead.”
Point made. “Fine. If you want to be scarred and prolong the healing process, go for it. I have shit to do.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“You’re moving back with your mother?”
She clapped her hands together. “Yes! Lyla isn’t under house arrest, Gavin isn’t the crime lord, and the psycho who murdered my husband is dead. Gavin tells me he suffered, and that’s all that matters. I can move on with my life. I want to go dancing or something, but I think I should dye my hair first. What do you think about me going red?”
He couldn’t control his sneer. “I don’t give a shit about your hair color.”
She ignored his surly mood and handed him her car key. Blade opened the door and tossed the key to a nearby guard who jogged toward the massive garage to find her vehicle among the fleet.
“You should have an escort,” Blade said.
“What for? Vega’s dead.”
“Vega may be gone, but there are still a lot of people who hate the Pyres, and you’re included.”
She shrugged. “We both know I’m not a target, not like Gavin and Lyla. Vinny was the crime lord for less than a week. No one cares about me. What do you think of Angel taking over?”
Blade didn’t answer immediately. His eyes moved over the guards while they did their rounds.
“Word’s out that he’s taken the title. Angel’s young so some might underestimate him, but he’s a Roman through and through. They’ll learn soon enough if they didn’t already hear what he did in Hell last night.”
She shouldn’t ask, but curiosity got the better of her. “So he’s a good fighter?”
“He survived in the pit.”
That must mean yes. “And you think it’s a good thing he’s taking over?”
“Isn’t that what I said?”
She rolled her eyes. Men. “He’s not what I expected of a Roman.”
His attention snapped back to her. He searched her eyes and then shook his head. “No.”
“What?”
“Fuck no.”
It wasn’t surprising that his reaction was nearly identical to Gavin’s. They were two of a kind. She could practically hear the lecture forming in his head. Fortunately, her gold convertible rounded the drive. She shouldered her bag and gave him the peace sign as she sashayed outside. “There’s my baby. Take care of Lyla for me.”
“I always do,” he growled. “Don’t do anything stupid, Carmen.”
She put the top down on the convertible before she perched on the seat. Blade was doing a good imitation of an Indian chief as he watched her from the top step, legs braced apart and arms crossed over his chest.
“What do you think of cherry?” she called.
“What?”
“Cherry for my new hair color!”
Blade scowled as several guards snickered.
“Seriously, though, red hair will be cute, right?” she yelled.
Blade walked into the house and slammed the door behind him. She laughed as she put the car in gear and stomped on the gas. The gates opened as she approached. Gavin’s fortress was far enough outside the city that she didn’t have to worry about the speed limit for a while, and she took full advantage of that. The car powered forward, winding smoothly on the long stretch of empty road. On days like this, she and Vinny would go on long drives, park in the middle of nowhere, and lay on the hood and talk for hours. God, she missed him. There would never be another Vincent Pyre.
Too soon, she reached civilization and slowed down … a little. Her city came into view. She loved this gaudy oasis in the middle of the desert. There was a manic vibe to the city that wasn’t for everyone, but she reveled in the dark beat of sexual energy, hunger, and ambition of the natives. She was one herself, after all. Las Vegas would always be her home.
She parked in the garage beside the Toyota she used to drive in high school. The door that led into the house opened before she could get out of the car. Her mother ran to her, arms open.
“Carmen Marie!” Mom leaned over the car door and hugged her tight. “I’ve been so worried!”
“Hi, Mom.”
Mom clasped her face and blinked. “You’re glowing.”
Carmen slid over the top of the door instead of opening it. She reached for her purse and overnight bag and put her arm around Mom’s waist.
“I know we need to catch up, but I need to talk to Vinny first.”
“Of course, honey.”
She gave her mother a kiss before she rushed upstairs. She walked into her modest bedroom, closed the door, and leaned back against it. A pewter urn perched on her dresser with VP engraved on the front. She dropped her bags and approached slowly.
“Hey, baby.”
She stopped in front of the urn and spread her hand over the curves she knew so well. How many days had she spent wrapped around this urn, willing Vinny to make an appearance? This was all she had left of him. It didn’t seem right that a man with such vitality could fit into a container. It had been almost three years, and she still couldn’t believe he was gone.
“It’s over. They caught him, Vin. It was Paul Vega’s son, Steven. He’s dead. Gavin made him suffer.”
She rested her forehead on the urn and hung on tight.
“I miss you,” she whispered against the cold metal. She tried to imagine it was Vinny’s warm flesh against hers. “Everyone says time heals all wounds, but that’s a fucking lie. Every day without you is worse than the one before.”
She bit her lip as her eyes flooded with tears. It had been years since he passed, but she’d never said goodbye. She refused. How could she with his killer on the loose? Now, the time had come to say goodbye to her best friend, lover, partner, husband, and soul mate.
She took a deep breath. “I told you I was staying with Lyla because she was on lockdown. The other night, shit went down. The fortress got attacked, and we had to go to a safe house. Lyla told me to take Nora and run while she stayed behind. I hid with Nora, and when I heard a soldier coming, I had to make a decision.”
Was it her imagination or did the air vibrate with tension?
“I decided to live.” Facing a future without Vinny wasn’t somet
hing she had ever contemplated. Even now, the realization that she was going forward alone was debilitating, but she breathed through the panic. She raised her head and saw her tear-streaked reflection in the urn. “I can’t grieve you anymore.”
Guilt engulfed her, but she gritted her teeth and continued, “I can’t take the pain. You’re not here, but I am. I need, Vinny.” Her words hung in the air, and she mentally braced before she confessed, “I slept with Marcus Fletcher.”
She closed her eyes and waited for a reaction. When none came, she lifted her chin.
“It was good.” Honesty forced her to add, “Better than good.” She waved her hand. “Fucking brilliant if you really want to know.” She pursed her lips and then added, “He did doggy style. You know I’ve always had a thing for rough and doggy.”
Her lips twitched, but she bit back the smile since it seemed inappropriate.
“When you died, I thought I did too. I’ve been living in this purgatory, but the other night, I decided to fight to live. When I pulled the trigger, I came back to life. I can see, feel, taste …” Her mouth watered at the memory of Marcus’s kiss. She swallowed. “I can’t imagine loving anyone the way I love you, but I can find small pleasures in life. At least until we meet again.” She placed her hand on the urn. “I’ll always love you.” She tapped her chest where her heart was trapped in a never-ending cycle of restitching itself back together again. “The pain will always be there. I know that now. I just have to find some sense of satisfaction in the small things.” Lyla’s words tripped through her mind, and she shook her head. “I don’t think I can spread your ashes. I’m not ready for that yet. I don’t know if I ever will be.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, chin balanced on her hand as she regarded the urn.
“Till death do us part,” she whispered. “We put off that trip to Bora Bora, that couple’s painting class, and you learning the tango. We thought we had a lifetime.” She mustered up a smile. “You should see Nora. She’s gorgeous.”
She waited, but she didn’t hear his voice in her mind. The silence stretched, and a tear slipped down her cheek when she realized she was truly alone. She’d broken their tie. She went up to the urn and touched the metal with her broken fingernail.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I built my life around you. My heart beat for you. You loved me, even my flaws, and I loved you with every breath I had.” Her face crumpled. It took a minute to regain her composure, and when she did, she forced a smile. “I’m going to live enough for the both of us. That fucker took you from me, but he didn’t break me. I want to dance on his grave, you know? I have to show everyone that your widow’s still smoking hot. I love you, babe. I always will.”