Dead or Alive: Part One (The Scarsi Family Series Book 2)

by Dee Garcia

  Deciding it more favorable to make my presence known from the get-go, I let myself out on the porch, my hand clenched around the metal frame of the storm door to avoid it from crashing shut. But it, in fact, wasn’t more favorable at all. The lack of a barrier between Xander and I suddenly allowed me to hear everything, and within seconds, I was regretting my decision to come out here in the first place. He didn’t have to say her name; I knew he was talking to his mom, and she wasn’t the least bit happy with whatever he’d already shared.

  “I promise you this is temporary, Ma. We’ll be back before you know it,” he said to her, for what sounded like the hundredth time.

  “What do you mean? Of course I mean we. I’m not hiking all over the world to come back home and call it quits—I love her… Okay, right now you don’t, you just have to get to know her. Give her a chance.”

  I stopped breathing right about then. Forget a panic attack; a sickening glob of bile was quickly rising up my throat.

  She hates me.

  “No,” he answered, defeated. “No, okay, we weren’t searching for her mom… I told you, I can’t tell you. Ma, please, don’t be angry… Hello? Mama? Damn it,” he muttered, tossing his head back in rebuff.

  Clearly, Carla had hung up on him, confirming my suspicions that she was indeed not my biggest fan.

  She probably never would be.

  That tiny realization was all it took for unbidden tears to sting my eyes once more, and much like before, I couldn’t quell them if I tried. What I’d just witnessed bolded, underlined, and highlighted the fact that Xander and I were doomed in every sense of the word. There was no light at the end of the tunnel for us, no happily ever after.

  There couldn’t be, not with the entire universe fighting to tear us apart.

  Through grief hazing my vision, I watched my man slump his shoulders and pocket the phone cradled in his grasp. If he was this torn down already, how much more could he really take? Even I could see it was just too much, too much stress mounted on our shoulders. Stress that could very possibly drive him away from me.

  The mere thought of Xander walking away from not just me—but us—shot a strangled gasp from my throat, my grip on the storm door slipping away as my hands instinctively flew up to my mouth to silence my cry. The metal frame crashed together much like I’d been trying to avoid, alerting Xander of my presence. His dark head snapped to where I stood on the porch and the strained expression marring his face softened only a fraction of what I’d grown accustomed to when he looked at me.

  Here we go, snickered my dark passenger, tripling every negative emotion rushing through me in that moment. He looked like he was ready to let me and all the strife I’d brought to his life go right this very second. Panic seized me. My heart rate spiked. I could feel it thumping viciously in my head. My knees felt like pure jelly as he started toward me and hustled up the steps. I expected him to brush past me into the house, too angry to hold down any sort of conversation, but then he stopped before me and wrapped me in his arms like I was the one who’d disappear if he blinked too long. The simple action allowed me to breathe a shaky sigh of relief. I clung to him for dear life, clawing at his t-shirt, cowering my face in his chest, breathing him in. He smelled like home.

  “Everything okay?” I somehow managed to ask.

  Xander nodded, the brisk movement ruffling the top of my head. “Yeah, all’s good, Angel.”

  Lie.

  He was lying right to my face. Not that he knew that, of course, because he hadn’t seen me until after his mom hung up on him. He must’ve thought I’d came out right when it happened. Maybe he was trying to protect me? I wanted to believe that. I mean, he knew how much I’d been stressing about what his mother would make of it all now that we weren’t just jumping states anymore. But still, it hurt to know he didn’t seem to confide in me. Is this what he felt when I’d been forced come clean about all my lies because of LeRoux?

  “Did you call your mom?” I went on like nothing, resting my chin on his chest.

  His brown-eyed gaze snapped down to mine, the faintest of smiles dancing across his lips before he leaned in to kiss me. “Mmhmm. That’s who I was just talking to. She’s a little worked up but nothing too serious.”

  Another lie.

  Another lie I could see swirling in those chocolate orbs I loved so much. How were we ever going to make it if he was lying to me about something so important? Sure, his mom was hundreds and hundreds of miles away, but that was right now. We’d eventually have to go back. And what was he going to do then? Never see her again, all to be with me? I highly doubted that nor would I allow it. His mom was all he had, and her time on this earth was limited enough as it is. I’d never let him miss out on her final years for me, and while it would legitimately kill me to do so, I’d let him go if he ever tried.

  “If she’s angry, you can tell me. It’s not like I’m not expecting it. If I were her, I’d be angry too,” I said, hoping the openness of my statement would urge him to be honest.

  But it didn’t. He simply shook his head and kissed me once more, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. “She’ll be fine, baby. She’s just worried and a little ticked I’m missing the holidays. Really, don’t stress it.”

  Lie after lie after lie.

  Was I going to have to force him to tell me the truth? Should I just tell him I’d heard far more than what he thought? Was the truth worth an argument when we’d come so far just to be together? I didn’t know what to do, warring with myself as I held his stare. I wondered if he could see the struggle in my eyes, wondered what was running through his head, if he sensed I knew he was lying.

  Were we foolish to believe we could really pull this off?

  I couldn’t sleep.

  Never mind my racing thoughts, it was blazing hot, even at two in the morning. Did I mention my aunt had no central AC? She’s not the only one, though. Plenty of people up here in the mountains didn’t either. They lived off ceiling fans and those portable ones you could plug into the wall; the small battery-operated ones you could keep on the nightstand too. But that’s miles away from the point. The point is, it was hotter than Satan’s balls. I’d been laying here restless since midnight, tossing and turning in attempt to finally pass out, but between the awful heat and deep rumination over the last twenty-four hours, my attempts were unfortunately feeble.

  I sighed in silent exasperation. I was at my wits’ end, drained and stressed beyond measure. All I wanted to do was rest, to rid myself of the negativity for a little while, but the light sheen of sweat clinging to my skin made it impossible. Whipping the light sheet off my body, I had hope the overhead fan would offer some relief, but, of course, all it did was circulate the hot air clogging the room, frustrating me further. The open window didn’t help much either, except for the soothing sound of the coqui’s chirping their nightly song. Their melody was one of Mama’s favorite things about Puerto Rico.

  Mama.

  I sighed again, this time in defeat. She was angry with me; more like livid. I hadn’t heard that tone from her in ages. Yes, I realized she had every right to be upset, but didn’t it matter that, regardless of how awful everything was now, I’d found the woman who makes me happy? That I’d finally started living my life, as she’d been begging me to do for so long? What’s worse is that she’d never voiced such reservations about Eden when we left the Bronx. In fact, after her initial anxiety dulled, I think she was secretly pleased I was so taken with a woman, that’d I left on a whim to be by her side. I also think she’d known I loved Eden long before I’d figured it out myself. So, while I didn’t expect her to rejoice and easily come to terms with the fact that we’d be gone for quite some time, I certainly didn’t expect her to side with the Scarsis either.

  My eyes followed the sliver of moonlight casting in through the sheer curtains, illuminating only half of the bed. The half where my Angel lay, fast asleep. Rolling onto my side, I took her in wordlessly, every inch of her. It never ceased to amaze me how
angelic Eden looked in her sleep. Her blonde tresses fanned out over the pillow, a few wayward strands spilling over her face. Long lashes swept over her cheeks, her lips puckered just slightly in this adorable pout. I found myself reaching out to trace their soft, bowed lines with my thumb. She stirred at my caress almost instantaneously, blue eyes dragging open slowly.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered, wrapping a small hand around my wrist.

  A smile tugged my lips and I shifted closer out of habit. “It’s hot as fuck.”

  “I know,” she chuckled. “Probably shouldn’t be pressed so close to me then.”

  “I can’t help it.” I shrugged. “I feel you in the bed and I have to touch you.”

  “Psshhh.” She slithered on top of me, peppering light kisses along my jaw, “I wish you were touching me.”

  Even in the dark, I could see the devilish look painted on her face. All she was missing were shiny devil horns on either side of her head.

  “Behave, Angel,” I chided, raking a hand down her naked back.

  “I can’t help it. I feel you in the bed and I want you to touch me,” she countered on a purr, combing the strands of my hair that fell over my forehead.

  “You’re the naughtiest angel I know.”

  “The naughtiest? Hell, I better be the only one.”

  “The one and only,” I affirmed with a swift tap to her ass, the sassy, possessive bite in her tone prompting another chuckle.

  Her hum of appeasement didn’t go unnoticed as her lips claimed mine, her kiss gentle yet hungry too. Despite trying to be respectful under my auntie’s roof, I was helpless against her onslaught, reveling in the fire that thrummed through my being whenever I held my girl close. I groaned into her mouth, opening wider with each slippery brush, our tongues coming out to play in a slow, sensual dance for two. Everything around us gave way into the darkness. A zombie apocalypse could’ve been happening just outside the door and still I wouldn’t have pulled away, too caught up in the moment to give a flying fuck about anything, or anyone, else.

  One minute, she was on top of me and the next, I was holding her captive beneath me, slightly wincing from putting so much weight on my arm. Filling my palms with her soft skin for purchase, I settled myself between her legs. Her lack of pajamas granted me access to all delicious parts of her that were only for me to see, to feel, to worship.

  “Do you know how much I love you, Eden,” I mumbled against her lips, groaning again when she fisted my hair and rolled her heat into my length.

  “I might have an idea,” she breathed, pulling me impossibly closer.

  “An idea simply won’t do. I want to hear you know I love you,” I growled softly, stamping a trail of kisses down her neck to her tits, where I held one hostage in my grip.

  She gasped some version of, “Then tell me, tell me how much,” as I laved a perfectly pink peak, drawing out this sexy, almost inaudible mewl that zipped right to my cock, jerking me beneath my briefs.

  “Too much maybe,”—suck—“but fuck, if I can’t help it, Angel. I’m crazy over you.”

  “You’d have to be to love someone like me,” she whispered.

  Her admission stilled me in place. Anger briskly simmered to the surface. I’d have asked her if she was joking had I not seen such genuine self-loathing haunting those baby blues.

  “Don’t you start with that again,” I said, my tone gruff and slightly peeved that she was going back to this place.

  “I just don’t understand how, Xander. Just tell me how, after everything you know about me, after everything I’ve dragged you through. How can you love me?”

  Oh, I’ll tell you how…

  “Hasn’t anyone ever told you, Eden? The heart wants what it wants, and I. Want. You. The good, the bad. I want you, all of you.”

  “But why?” she asked, incredulity seeping out from those two tiny words.

  “Because.”

  “Because what?”

  “Because I fucking said so, that’s why,” I barked, almost too loud, looming over her once more. “Stop questioning me, stop doubting me, stop doubting us. This is happening, Angel, and I’ll do everything in my power to protect it, even from you.”

  I half-expected some smartassed retort to come flying out from that sassy mouth of hers, but for whatever the reason may be, nothing came. She just lay there, staring at me in disbelief, eyes wide, likely from my confession. But I could also see everything I felt for her mirrored back at me, and after the shit talk I had with Mama earlier in the day, this was exactly what I wanted to see, what I needed to see. I hadn’t, for one second, doubted her when she’d told Alessio she loved me, but actually seeing it, even hidden behind fear, was the confirmation I needed. Our situation might’ve been less than ideal, a warning to most, if anything, but it didn’t change the fact that we were meant to be. Eden was mine, she had been almost from the very second my eyes met hers across that bar, and nothing—or no one—was going to change that. Not even family.

  “I love you,” she blurted out suddenly, pulling me out of my own head as if she’d been reading my thoughts. “I don’t know how the hell I got so lucky, but God, I love you, X.”

  See? Mine.

  A slinky smile stretched my lips. I hitched her legs around my waist and cupped her head, weaving my fingers into her hair. She was already grinning when I brushed my nose against hers and kissed the very tip.

  “Say it again,” I demanded, and her smile brightened times a million.

  “I love you.”

  Said softly but with conviction, it jacked me up in the best way possible. “I love you too,” I answered with equal fervor, hoping she could feel it in the flurry of kisses I gave her thereafter.

  Said flurry didn’t last very long though. Eden nipped at my lips every time, tugging gently to slow my pace, and soon we were back to those leisure, wet kisses that drove me out of my mind.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing you say that,” she added after a long while.

  “Trust me, I’ll make sure you don’t,” I assured her, grinding into her heat for added effect.

  I’d fuck the concept into her if I had to.

  I was up the second I heard my auntie rifling around in the kitchen, the smell of freshly brewing coffee glazing over each of my senses. I whipped on a pair of basketball shorts and slithered out the door, leaving Eden sprawled in the center of the bed, the sheets a mess after our middle of the night playtime. Exhausted, as you can imagine, I belted out a monstrous yawn with a hand scrubbing the back of my head as I padded into the kitchen. My aunt was just pouring the last of the espresso into the bell creamer when I walked in, and the astute eyes she cut my way led me to believe me and Eden hadn’t been as quiet as we thought we were.

  Thankfully, she didn’t comment and proceeded to pour us each a shot as she extended her cheek for a ‘Good Morning’ kiss. I complied, obviously, the gesture having been ingrained in my being since before I could remember, my arms coming around her shoulders from behind in a tight hug. With a quick peck to her cheek, I mumbled a “Buenos Dia, Titi,” before taking the proffered coffee. Warm, sweet, and loaded with caffeine, I hummed as the robust flavor slid down my throat. Nectar of the Gods, I tell you. There’s nothing like a shot of Bustelo. It’ll hit you right in the soul.

  “¿Cómo dormiste?” she asked, promptly setting out to wash the miniature mugs as I downed the last bit of my coffee and passed it back.

  “Like shit,” I admitted, ’cause it’s the truth. I’d slept like a hot pile of shit.

  “And Eden?”

  “Out like a light.”

  She laughed quietly, shaking her head as she ripped a paper towel free from the roll and dried her hands. “What are your plans for the day?”

  I watched her for a moment, unsure of how to answer. Should I push my luck and roll on with my lying streak for just a little longer, or should I simply come out with it and get it over with already? All morality begged me to be honest with her, my own flesh a
nd blood, but fuck, I really did not want to have this damn conversation right now. And it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that I wasn’t keen on being reprimanded like a child for my actions; I just didn’t want to hear how bad it was. I’d only ever rehashed all this shit in my head, never aloud. Not even with Eden. So actually, telling my auntie and being able to hear the dirty details loud and clear—yeah, I wasn’t feeling it.

  Running an anxious hand through my hair, I steadied myself for what would transpire after I lied to her face, again.

  “I don’t know. We really need to go into town and grab some things since the airport hasn’t gotten back to us,” I tried, holding her stare as confidently as possible.

  Said confidence was very quickly extinguished. If looks could kill, I would’ve been six feet under. Cocking her head to one side, her face morphed into this unamused glare that was almost identical to Mama’s you’re about to get a sandal to the head look. I cringed inwardly, and she pursed her lips sharply, leaning back against the sink. Pudgy arms crossed over her lavender knee-length house robe.

  “Ay, porfavor, dejate ya con las mentiras, Xander. Did you forget you asked me to borrow my phone yesterday? Not only that, but I spoke to your mom last night y bien claro que me lo dijo todo. Let me ask you something,” she paused, and I ground my jaw as I waited. “Are you two crazy?”

  Groaning, I fell onto one of the stools at the breakfast counter and dropped my head into my hands. The cell phone; how could I forget about the damn phone? And of course she’d spoken to Mama, who of course had gone and told her everything, despite the fact I’d made it clear I had no intention of filling my auntie in on every painstaking morsel of information. How much had my mom really told her though?