by Rose Harper
Without so much as a kiss, fuck you, or anything—he turns and struts away from me. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t get ready fast enough to catch up with them. And there’s no way those two dipshits will tell me where the keys to his cars are. There’s the fact of my brother being here as well. There’s no way in hell I can get out of this house, and Mateo fucking knows it.
Passing Jake—whose eyes eat me up and down with sickening gusto—Mateo leaves the room without looking back at me. Whatever we’ve built between us cracks. It’s like the foundation of a newly-designed infrastructure. You think it’s perfect, that it will work and do its duty, but then you get the big boom dropped on you.
Nothing is ever perfect, and flaws come out eventually.
16
CARINA
Frigid water pelts against my naked skin as I brace my hands on the smooth, mosaic tiled wall. I thought a shower would do me good after the spat Mateo and I just had, but it’s only making things worse. There’s plenty of standing silence for my mind to rampage. My thoughts eat me alive as I vaguely hear the booming sounds of the SUV doors closing, solidifying that he’s leaving me here—protected—while he goes out to the devil knows where unguarded.
God, I’m so pissed off at him! We haven’t even been married for a few hours, and he has the fucking nerve to tell me to stay, as if I’m some goddamn dog. That my place is here, and I would only be a distraction if I went with him. It’s complete and utter bullshit.
Why would he marry me, then turn right around and say he doesn’t need me? That’s like saying you don’t need your heart to keep on living. It’s preposterous. I didn’t marry him to be left in the dark. I married him because we’re partners. In all things. In every way. For the rest of our goddamn lives!
This isn’t about love, joy, and frolicking through the damn fields that are filled to the brim with dandelions. This is about organization, security, protection. Maybe love will come one day, but then again, maybe it won’t. It’s no skin off my ass either way. The last people who supposedly loved me treated me like shit, so I’d rather refrain from that train wreck if at all possible. It’s ugly and doomed to fail if you think otherwise.
Being connected to Mateo is a strategically smart move. I’m the ace up his sleeve that no one knows about, while giving him the peace of mind that I’m not going anywhere.
But this? Yeah, this is bullshit.
Doing this makes our vows a waste of goddamn time if he’s just going to leave me here every time he has to go meet a contact.
It’s not that his complete refusal of my presence irks me, because it doesn’t. It’s the fact he’s treating me as if I’m this breakable object when both of us know differently.
Then again … if it’s just business, why does it hurt so much? Why does the thought of Mateo leaving me behind create this crater in my chest where my heart is supposed to be? His absence causes a numbness to spread throughout my body and all hope to fizzle into nothingness.
A soft knock on the door alerts me to someone’s presence. I don’t bother covering myself as I glance through the fogged-up glass, seeing my brother standing at the opening of the door, his eyes trained on the floor. I should cover up, shield my nakedness from him. Yet, I have no fucks to give at the moment. None at all.
“What do you want?” I grind out, raising an eyebrow at the question.
“I was just going to tell you that I’ll be in his office trying to break into that computer. Those punk bitches don’t know shit when it comes to computers. Not like us.” His words cause a dry chuckle to fall from my lips.
“No, they’re imbeciles,” I say, grabbing the loofa. “Be my guest. I’ll be down in a little bit to help. It’s the least I can do since they left me here.”
I see a smirk tug at his mouth, but he quickly tries to hide it. “Being here isn’t that bad, Carina. At least, being here, you know what monsters to avoid.”
Huffing, I turn back toward the shower head. “Whatever.”
“Just knock before you come in. I’m going to play some music to help me clear my mind.”
Raising a brow even higher, I jerk my head back toward him, staring in complete silence. Music? Is that the shit they play on those movies Dom has me watching? The ones he says will keep me grounded.
“What is music?”
His eyes snap up to mine, disbelief shining through his irises before he catches himself and drops his gaze back toward the floor once more. “It’s, uh …” He seems to think about it for a minute before blurting out, “It’s a vocal or instrumental sound combined in such a way as to produce beauty of form, harmony, and expression of emotion.”
“Did you just recite the definition?” I chuckle.
“It’s the only way to really describe it unless you hear it for yourself,” he informs me, scratching the scruff lining his jaw. “Anyway, it’ll be pretty loud, so just knock before you come in. I’d hate to shoot you.”
“Got it.”
Once he leaves the room, it’s like all the warmth leaves right along with him. Goose bumps pepper along my skin, and I suppress a shiver as I soap up the loofa in my hand and start washing off.
It seems the warmth isn’t the only thing he took with him. My mind seems to be on a fritz. Yet, I can’t complain. At least I don’t have to think of all the shit that happened earlier. I can just stand here, waiting for the water to get cold before I retire for the night. And if he thinks I’m waiting up for him, he has another thing coming. Mateo will be lucky if I don’t go to bed with a knife under my pillow and play whack-a-dick when he returns.
Sighing, I grab the shampoo, squirt a dollop into my hands, then proceed to massage it into my hair. Closing my eyes, I let everything fall away. The cold shoulder. The killings. The secrets still trickling down the pipeline.
I let it all float away from me.
It’s only me, the water, and my idyllic blankness.
After washing the suds from my hair, I slide down the wall, placing my knees into my chest as I sit on the floor. Laying my cheek against the top of my knees, I stare blankly at the watercolor designs painted into the shower tile. It’s the color in this room besides the blood red towels in the heated rack, and it blends into the room seamlessly—as if it belongs here. The twists and turns of the design have my eyes following it until I can’t follow them anymore. Then, I start all over again, keeping count of the meticulous, thought out designs the creator systemically wove together to create such beautiful work.
I’m so lost in my thoughts I don’t hear the door opening once more until I feel the frigid change in temperature as it tries to even itself out once more. Huffing, I lift my head off my knees, roll it on my shoulders, before training my gaze on the door, getting a nasty retort at the ready.
But the person standing there isn’t who I thought it was. Their beady eyes drink me in like I’m a tall glass of water, and they’re dying of thirst. They glint off the lighting, making them look delirious and possessed as they stand there silent, the only thing moving on them is their chest as they breathe in the scent of my cherry blossom shampoo and body wash.
“Well, don’t mind if I do,” he seduces, licking his lips as he starts for me.
17
MATEO
Something doesn’t feel right. Besides the place this contact wanted to meet, a feeling is settling in my stomach that we shouldn’t be here—that this is all a ploy to get us to let our guard down.
“I don’t like this, boss,” Dom says, glancing over at me.
He isn’t alone. I fucking hate the unknown, and the silence and denseness surrounding this meeting isn’t lost on me that what we’re about to walk in on is unfamiliar, mysterious—could all be a ploy to get us away from where we should be.
Peering through the window, I continue to stare at the abandoned warehouse where we used to do a bulk of our meetings. Yet, something about that lone, desolate building doesn’t feel right. It’s too quiet, too withdrawn from the world surrounding it.
&
nbsp; Various vines span up the sides of the building, windows scattered here and there are either cracked, broken, or missing completely. It’s in complete shambles, deteriorating even more with each passing moment. It’s not a common meeting place. It shouldn’t even be an option. However, the contact my father connected with wants to meet here. He wants to discuss our business liaison in this forgotten place with very little prying eyes.
“I don’t, either, Dom. But it is what it is, and considering everything that’s happened recently, we should get this over with as fast as possible. Cover me.”
I meet his eyes again and he gives me an imperceptible nod before I grasp the smooth, malleable door handle. My nerves coat the inside of my throat, making it hard for me to swallow. Tension envelops me as I turn my gaze back toward the worn warehouse in front of me, knowing what I have to do but still hating it just the same.
No matter how I feel in this moment, I need to get this done to keep my old man off my back, get back to worrying about the things that deserve my attention. We’re so close to figuring out who Vinny’s killer is, I can feel it in my bones. And until this situation is out of the way, we won’t be able to focus on any of that.
Pulling the door handle, I slowly open the door and step out. Softly shutting it behind me, I trail my gaze over the landscape in front of me. The door closes with a resounding thud, practically echoing off the vast nothingness extending in front of us. Taking a few steps away from the safety of the SUV, I continue to glance around, feeling my ire rise.
Doors begin opening and closing after mine, but I’m too invested to take my attention away from our surroundings. I expect something to happen—anything. Yet, the longer I’m out in the open, the more silence continues to encompass me.
Peering around, I try to find any hint of a car or fresh tracks from a vehicle driven by our contact, but apart from dry weeds, undisturbed gravel, and eerily tense stillness, there’s nothing.
“Boss …” Dom says, trailing off as the sound of crunching gravel meets our ears.
Feeling a hand wrap around my bicep, I jerk from the contact and my eyes peer over my shoulder into Gavino’s, his words easily slipping into our native tongue. “I don’t like this. Something isn’t right. It’s too quiet; too still.”
“What do you suggest I do? We can’t let this contact get away, Gav. If anyone has information on Luca and his knowledge on our mother’s death, I’ve been assured it’s this person.”
“There are always other options,” he grinds out, eyes hardening.
“You may think that, but I can promise you, this is it. No one will talk in our world, except this contact. If Luca is right, G, then things are about to get more twisted.”
“I don’t trust that bastard as far as I can throw him, brother. One of these days I’m just going to start taking out threats before they even make it to you.”
“Including our father? Because if he’s right, our father is most definitely a fucking threat that needs extinguished.”
“Especially him,” he seethes in a low timbre, his jaw ticking of obvious anger. “And I’ll gladly pull the trigger.”
Straightening my suit, I turn my attention to the car heading our way. With its tinted windows, sleek, chrome additives, and thick, bald racing tires, the El Camino is a force to be reckoned with. With its outstanding performance and pure, thunderous horsepower under the hood, it’s everything a getaway car should be.
It’s also not the kind of car I was expecting.
“Men, fall back,” I tell them, motioning for them to retreat to the reinforced SUV.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Dom seethes, seeing the same thing I am—the car coming to a complete stop, only allowing us to catch the hint of the driver’s hands clutching the steering wheel.
The driver never tries to get out of the car. Never puts forth the effort to calm the raging emotions blazing through me. They only sit there, revving the engine, triggering the deafening noise of the monstrous car to reverberate off the abandoned warehouse.
I vaguely hear the men retreating as I ordered, with the exception of Domino who irritatingly stays by my side, his gun trained on the front of the car. He’s an unmovable force, unrelenting in his endeavor to shield the leader of this family. If I hadn’t already considered him part of the family, I would now. His sheer determination to protect and make sure this family stays intact is one of the most admirable things about him. Even if he’s as elusive as a fox.
“What do you think?”
“I think we need to get in the vehicle. Now.”
Nodding, I never take my eyes off the car as I backtrack toward the SUV. “You’re right. Nothing about this seems right. The car. Warehouse. Being out here at dusk with no one around. There’s not even a hint of rubbernecking, which we both know means some shit’s up.”
Though, the moment Dom opens the door and enters, I pause my actions, my blood thickening to frigid gel in my veins. The window of the car rolls down and a long, delicate arm shoots through the opening. My confusion quickly morphs into horror as I see a box shaped device resting leisurely in their hand, its blinking light flashing like a neon stop sign.
It slowly goes back and forth as if they’re ordering me to stay where I am. God knows what that device is connected to—what tom fuckery they concocted. What if they have something on the car? Strapped a detonation device to the bottom to blow us all to smithereens.
“Men,” I say, never taking my eyes off the bastard who just went to the top of my hit list. “The second I close this door, get the fuck out of here. Do not ask questions. Do not try to be Billy badasses. Just get the fuck out of here. Capisci?”
Before any of them can respond, I slam the door so hard the window jars from the movement. I watch, silently, as the driver leans forward, knowing they have me by the balls, and allowing the bottom half of their face to illuminate under the flickering streetlight. The shadows pull away from their face as their mouth tugs into a taunting, yet sadistic smile of delight.
Turning their hand over on the steering wheel, this person beckons me with a wag of their thin, manicured finger to come closer. I hear Dom yelling. Feel the SUV shaking from his attempt to get to me. He’s trying to get out of the vehicle as I leisurely make my way toward the mysterious person. I can’t allow any of my men to get hurt. They’ve already come so close over and over again, and I refuse to be the catalyst that finally causes them to meet their maker.
They can live. Because I know without a doubt, only one of us will be stepping out of that car alive. And if they think it’s going to be them, then they better be ready for a fight, because I refuse to go down like a punk bitch.
Unhurriedly, I make my way to the car. The closer I get, the more disbelief infuses in my blood. There’s no way. It’s not even fucking possible. Yet, here they are, holding a detonation device to their chest.
Coming to a stop, my heart threatens to beat out of my chest. The window in front of me rolls down, and I cast one last glance over at the SUV, my eyes meeting Gavino’s in the side mirror, before he punches the gas. Dust kicks up from the gravels, and even from here, I can still hear Domino screeching in the back seat to turn around.
“Get in.” My eyes close at the sound of their voice. Hatred, fury, and loathing bubble in my gut as I lean down, bracing my hands on the side of the car.
“I personally don’t think this is a good idea, and you wouldn’t either if you knew what was good for you,” I say, finally meeting her eyes. The same crystal blues I used to gaze into as I fucked her for everything she had. “How did you get Adriano to set this up?”
Her smile stretches across her face as she pulls up a gun from beside the seat, training it between my eyes. “You are so naïve, Mateo. You honestly think anyone connected to your family has anything to do with why I’m here?”
Confusion slowly morphs into anger. Liam fucking told me it was Adriano’s contact on the goddamn phone when it was her the entire time. I just didn’t think anything of i
t because, again, my father vouched for those assholes.
I should have known something was up. Instead, I took Liam at face value. I expected him to be honest, loyal. When in reality, he and his partner have been planning this the entire time.
It’s then everything starts connecting inside my mind. The frayed seams of my thoughts start stitching themselves back together, and a sick realization begins rearing its ugly head.
All this time, we were looking for an unknown threat. We’ve been looking for the big bad, when the entire time, the threat was right under our noses. And it was a dainty little fucking female. Oh, how she must have laughed at our antics, cackled at the fact she’d led us all to believe she was this unfortunate soul in need of a place to stay. This bitch is going to fucking die.
When I hear the telltale click of the gun, I swallow what little fucking pride I have left and open the door and slide inside.
“My father never sent those motherfucking guards, did he, Camille?”
“Oh, how very intuitive of you, lover.” She smiles, the sickly-sweet smell of mint slapping me across the face. “I sent them in to get you right where I want you. Now that I have you, I told them to have a little fun before they kill your little sweetheart. You know, an incentive for bringing me you so fast.”
Does she think it’s going to fluster me that those two assholes are going after Carina? Can she really be that dense? I, more than anyone, know exactly what my girl is made of. She gives no fucks and throws haymakers out in return. Camille is barking up the wrong tree if she thinks Carina won’t waste those men. She will, and she’ll wear a smile on her face the entire time she disembowels them.
“You have no idea who you’ve just pissed off, do you?” I ask, forcing out a dry chuckle. “The moment Carina finds out I’m gone is when your countdown starts.”
“Your little buddies aren’t going to find out anything,” she says around a laugh that grates on my last nerve. “Because by the time they get to your home, she’ll already be dead.”