The Syndicates: A Dark Mafia Romance Collection

by Raven Scott

  “Carlyle refused to let us go until he started his own operation. Theo was actually the one that fought him on it, but, obviously, we lost. What about you, huh, Mateo? How’d you hold up?” I bawled like a baby, and I didn’t even care. The only thing that mattered was that we were gonna see the sun again. Lucy was going to wake up in a hospital bed, safe and sound, and me . . . “The last time we spoke, you said ‘goodbye’ to me. I was so worried when you went missing.”

  “I’m t-too much of a pussy to k-kill myself.” Oran chuckled dryly at that, and he hoisted me up with a grunt as I leaned heavily against him. Sniffling hard, I rubbed my face with my free hand and managed a shallow breath. Too many things crammed in my chest for much more than that, and I hiccupped a sob as I wiped my tears away. “Oran, I . . . I don’t know how t-to explain it.”

  “Well, you have time to think about it. The ambulance is right there.” Outside the room was a flight of stairs leading to a pretty average looking, smallish house, and I glanced around at the bodies on the floor. My toes curled as I shuffled heavily along, but I didn’t stop to kick the lifeless husks. Who knew if I could get myself moving again? Hobbling my way through the living room, every piece of furniture was a blur, and I covered my eyes as we breached the front door.

  The nighttime air caressed my face, and I closed my eyes to savor it. All the tension in my shoulders seeped into the soft grass when the I stepped off the path that led to the sidewalk. There was no moon, no whirring, bright lights of emergency vehicles, and Oran held me up as I stood in the grass. I wish I could take off my shoes.

  “Where are we, anyway?” Gazing up at the stars, I licked my lips heavily, and Oran adjusted his grip on me gingerly. “Lucy . . . she’s from Tennessee, so . . . ”

  “We’re currently in the great state of Virginia. When you wake up again, we’ll be at the nearest hospital. Dad’s worried about you, kid— as worried as he can actually get.” Jerking my head in a nod, I started toward the quiet ambulance, and my brother passed me off to the paramedics to pull off his shirt and wipe his arm. “Knock him out. We got a long way to drive.”

  5

  Lucy

  A soft, weighted blanket draped my shoulders, and I cracked my eyes open to find a face I didn’t know watching me critically. Right now, I didn’t even have the energy to feel anything, and I squeezed Mateo’s hand just to make sure he was there. I didn’t even the energy for anything else, to even close my eyes again, and the crisp, coarse sheet that covered him stuck to my cheek as my brain puttered to life.

  “Your name is Lucy, right? Lucy Voight?” The deep, solid voice was heavier than the blanket, and I groaned softly in agreement as the guy pulled up a chair next to mine. “I’m Oran, Mateo’s brother. I don’t want to bombard you right now, but there’s some things we need to talk about concerning what you’re going to tell people, Lucy.”

  “Just tell me what to say.” My slur earned me a frown, and I somehow managed to find the strength to lift my head. Every part of me was heavy, slow, and I yawned hugely as Oran watched me through narrowed eyes.

  “Well, what you say depends on how well you can tell the story. I don’t think it’s wise to tell people you were kidnapped by the Italian Mafia and subsequently saved by two random guys that basically ninjaed their way into the place.” Despite the humor in his tone, Oran’s frown didn’t falter, and my gaze found his dazedly as he leaned back in his seat to cross his knees. “You disappeared for a week, so there is an organized effort to find you, Lucy.”

  “My longtime boyfriend proposed to me two months ago with this ugly ring his mom picked out. I said ‘yes’ because we were in front of all my friends and family, but even at the time, I was wondering if I was making a mistake. My best friend Mikayla knows. I’ll just say I had to think about it by myself, and I had to be alone.” Oran’s expression flared in interest, and I flopped back in my chair to heave the most exhausted sigh possible. Mateo hadn’t woken up, yet, but he was doing a lot worse than me. Now, seeing him hooked up to tubes, lying on his front, his back covered in bandages— it was a beautiful sight. “The TV shows lied to me.”

  “Mateo is . . . a very unique kind of person, Lucy. He’s been through a lot.” Sniffling harshly, I only gulped down the snot that pooled at the back of my throat, and Oran and I fell into a peaceful silence. Staring at the ceiling through bleary, achy eyes, the congealed week that’d slipped by flickered broken behind my sockets. An ache sprung up against my temple, and Oran only intensified it when he continued. “Lucy, if you want, we can set you up with a therapist of ours. Someone you don’t have to lie to.”

  “I just want to go see my dog. That’s enough therapy for me.” Tilting my head to gaze at Oran, I frowned at the concern knitting his brows. “What?”

  “I’d firmly suggest you talk to someone before you head home, Lucy.” Pursing my lips thinly, I only jerked my head in a nod, and Oran steepled his fingers as I laid my head back down on the edge of the hospital bed. I was tired, and I just wanted to go home, but I didn’t want to leave Mateo here alone. “It’s a difficult situation for you to be in, I know, but keeping those secrets pent up in you is going to eat away at you, Lucy. You were held hostage for a week, and even though it could’ve been worse, it was still a terrible thing you had to endure.”

  “Yeah.” I just agreed with him, my blurred gaze fixing on the ring on my finger as it glinted in the low light streaming down from above. We were in a nice hospital, a small one by all accounts. I didn’t know if the place was empty because the wing was bought out or something, or if it was just a slow hospital, but the peace was nice. “If you say so.”

  Maybe, Oran realized he wasn’t going to get anywhere with me, and he stood up to leave me in the comfort of the rank stench of cleaner and steady beeping of machines. When the door shut gently, Mateo squeezed my hand, and my breath hitched in surprise when he turned his head to face me.

  “You’re awake! Oh, my God, you’re awake!” Relief and happiness leaked from my eyes, and Mateo cracked a small smile as he gingerly rolled his shoulders. The bandages on his back stretched, the tape crinkling quietly, and I reached my free hand to stroke his face with trembling fingers. “Mateo . . . ”

  “Hey, I didn’t know your hair was blonde.” Blubbering a laugh at his croak, I sniffled hard, and my face heated as Mateo carefully rolled onto his side. His face twisted with a wince, and my heart leaped into my throat when he sat up with a low grunt. “Are you okay, Lucy?”

  “I’m fine. I’m fine. Because of you.” Reaching to wipe my eyes with his thumb, Mateo smiled so beautifully, the relief palpably spewing from his pores as I nodded furiously. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

  “I still think I might. I know Oran likes to do things quiet, but that was surreal. I keep thinking I’ll open my eyes and we’ll still be in that room.” Climbing onto the hospital bed, I wrapped my arms around Mateo’s neck to hold him tight, and the faint smell of him was calming and familiar. Goosebumps washed my arms and chest as he rubbed my sides and up my back, and I closed my eyes to bury my face in the crook of his shoulder. “I heard what you said about your alibi. Is that the truth about your friend?”

  “Mikayla? She knows that I regret saying ‘yes’, so she’ll back me up. At least, in front of people, she will. There’s no way she’ll not know I’m lying, though. What do I tell her?” My mumble earned me a low groan of acknowledgement, and Mateo cupped the back of my head to knead my scalp.

  “The best lies are the ones closest to the truth, so tell her you shacked up with a guy for a week. It’s as close to true as you can get. You didn’t cheat or anything, but you had a lot of time to think and someone to bounce your thoughts off of. If she asks how we met, just say we booked the same room by accident.” That was an interesting way to spin things, and I nodded firmly as Mateo’s thickening beard scraped my temple. “If she keeps asking, just tell her it was a really rough, soul-searching journey, and you don’t want to give details.”

&nb
sp; “I don’t want to leave you.” The confession dried my mouth, and Mateo’s hand paused against my scalp as his heart stuttered against mine. Tightening my grip on him, I held my breath as my lungs became small and tight, and he pressed his cheek against my temple firmly.

  “You have to, Lucy. You have people to get back to. I bet your dog misses you like crazy.” A sad lilt in his tone nearly stopped my heart, and Mateo pulled back to cup my face in both his hands. His smile was hallow and shriveled, and I hiccupped a sob as he pressed his forehead against mine. “That’s reason enough to go back to Tennessee, right? For your dog.”

  “Mateo . . . ”

  “Hey, can you go get me something to eat? I’m starving.” His palms fell from my skin, leaving me ice cold, and I nodded mutely before throwing my legs over the side of the bed. Mateo arched and grumbled and hissed as he twisted, throwing his elbows out, and tingles shot up and down my legs when I put my weight on them. Dread gnawed through my gut, and I glanced back as he raised his arms above his head.

  Even after the past week, he was toned and muscular. Maybe, that wasn’t a long time, but . . .

  “Oh, Lucy, can you get the nurse for me, too.” I nodded again, and my soles barely left the linoleum as I shuffled out of the room. Shutting the door behind me, I swiped back my hair and rubbed my hands up my face roughly to heave a massive sigh. The hallway was quiet, and I made my way to the nurse’s station to get someone into Mateo’s room. Everything in me screamed to go back, to hold him and never let go, and I crossed my arms tightly over my chest to keep my heart from breaking through my ribs.

  6

  Mateo

  “You sound different than you did before.” The words filtered through my scope of comprehension weakly, and I glanced over at Oran through the swirling, polarized glass. Water soaked my hair and stung my back fiercely, but I barely felt it. I was just glad to be clean, and I swept back my hair absently. “Wanna talk about it?”

  “What’s there to talk about? All they did was whip me. Occasionally, I took a punch to the face. Standard stuff. Honestly, I was kinda disappointed.” Sourness dribbled from my teeth like acid, and I placed both my palms on the tiled wall to stretch. My sternum popped satisfyingly, and my lip curled up when the cuts on my back screamed in protest. “S-shit, I mean, there’s not much to say.”

  “Lucy’s going home today.” That declaration hurt more than my back, and I ducked my head to pop the joints high on my spine. Every part of me was stiff, but the warm water helped. “Is it because of the kidnapping, or because of her?”

  “Is what, Oran? I had a life-altering, catastrophic event happen, and you’re wondering if it did alter my life? Yes, it did. Yeah, it was her. What’s your point? Lucy’s going back to Tennessee, and me, I’ll go back to being Carlyle’s bitch.” He was quiet at the harshness in my tone, and I flopped my head back roughly to straighten and twist the water off sharply. Bitterness flooded my chest, and sourness coated my tongue as I pushed open the door and glared at my brother. “Do you know how hard it was to pretend that I knew for sure, with absolute certainty, that we were going to be rescued? That someone was looking for us? That you or Carlyle would find us? When I didn’t really believe that myself? I mean, where the fuck was, he when I was ready to jump out the window of a penthouse? Where were you, huh, Oran? Why does anyone care about me now when no one cared about me before? Oh, suddenly the only people who can abuse me are Carlyle and his fucking sadistic secretary?”

  “You’re my brother, Mateo. Even if Carlyle abandoned you, I wouldn’t.” Gulping down the dense lump in my throat, I snatched the towel off the hook to wrap it around my waist, and Oran took off his glasses to wipe the lenses with his t-shirt hem. “I’ve offered almost every time we talked for you to come to Seattle, and you always said ‘no’. I know being under Carlyle’s heel like that is depressing. I did that, remember? And, like you, I had to go through a horrible, horrible event to make me see it wasn’t worth it. Even if Carlyle didn’t approve, I would find you. It’d maybe take me a while, but I would.”

  “I realized that, Oran.” My back burned, and I exhaled a heavy breath through my nose as Oran caught my gaze, fixing his glasses on his nose. The ugly feelings I held didn’t die down, though, and a frown twisted my lips as I stepped out of the bathroom. “I just . . . getting kidnapped and tortured is supposed to be a person’s low point. It’s not supposed to feel like one of the easier things I’ve been through.”

  “You’re optimistic about the future, though, now . . . ” Trailing off, Oran arched a brow quizzically, and I clenched my jaw hard as my face heated in annoyance. “Unless that was an act for Lucy, too.”

  “You know what they say— you lie enough to yourself, you start to believe it.” Scratching my scruff sharply, I walked over to the sink to glare at myself in the mirror. My brother was right, though— I sounded different. I looked different. “I’m sure that once I go back, it’ll just end up the same again. That’s okay, though, Oran. It really is. This is karma at its finest, and, yeah, I exaggerated for Lucy because she doesn’t deserve any of this shit.”

  “Neither do you, Mateo. You know- Carlyle’s not the only one that bosses people around.” The deep, dark tone rolled down my spine, and I turned to find my dad in all his aged-like-fine-wine glory standing in the doorway to my room. His usually bright, peppy bowtie was missing, his long, thin body draped in a powerful, all black suit. Normally, my dad tried to dress light to hide the fact that he was a soulless bastard, but now . . . now, he looked a heck of a lot like the Horseman Death in Supernatural.

  “What are you doing here, Dad?” The last time my father and I spoke was almost a year ago, when he told me he’d give me an out, and all I had to do was take it. Nothing ever happened. Maybe, he just never got around to it. Maybe, he never cared enough to think up something to back up his offer.

  Wandering into the room, he shut the door behind him and cast his blank eyes on me. Even if he could mimic everything else perfectly, his eyes told the truth.

  “I came to check on you. You’re my son, and I’ve always tried to make you feel like you mean something to me. If I wasn’t who I am, you’d still have turned out the same, Mateo.” My cheek twitched at that, but I couldn’t exactly argue about it. Up until a year ago, I didn’t even know Dad was a sociopath. I never, ever got the feeling he didn’t genuinely care about me, even though he’d never not pretended. Pulling a large envelope out of his inner jacket pocket, he held it out to me, and his gnarled, arthritic-bulging fingers gripped it loosely. “This is your out.”

  “Right.” Suspicion thickened my tone, and I took the envelope to toss it carelessly onto my bed. Awkwardness stretched with the silence, and I swiped back my hair to send droplets down my back to sting my cuts. The thick, manila folder kept catching my eye, but I closed my eyes to hold back an exhausted sigh. “What’s going to happen now? I’m pretty drugged up right now, but . . . ”

  “What do you mean? You can do whatever you want, Mateo. I assume that you don’t want to go back to New York. You don’t have to.” My brows rose, and my chest tightened as I sucked in a sharp breath. Goosebumps bristles down my arms, and my dad smiled reassuringly. “Carlyle will probably act like you never existed, but I doubt you’ll have a problem with that.”

  “S-so, I can . . . I can just . . . ” Disbelief softened my tone, and an indescribably feeling gripped my heart tightly when my dad nodded firmly. “Good. That’s good.”

  Stumbling a little to sit on the bed, I gazed blearily at the tiled floor, and the air rushed from my lungs. Covering my mouth to hide my smile, my hands and shoulders tremored, and that nipping cold that constantly hung over me finally lifted. My mind circled those words over and over again.

  You can do whatever you want. Anything I don’t want to do, I don’t have to.

  Wow. That was nuts. That was insane. Carlyle couldn’t order be around and step on my hand when I grumbled denial. He couldn’t send me to some shit-stain city to get me out of t
he way. To him, I didn’t exist anymore. I was a non-person.

  A rasping laugh burst from my throat, my smile widening until tears squeezed from my eyes and my cheeks ached.

  “Mateo! I go—” Lucy broke into the hospital room only to stop short when she noticed I wasn’t alone, and the large, paper bag in her hand rumpled loudly. “I-I . . . um . . . am I . . . I’ll knock again in a couple minutes.”

  “No, come in.” Standing up, I gestured Lucy into the room, and she wandered in cautiously, eyes darting between my brother and father. “What’s in the bag?”

  “Ooh, I wasn’t sure what you like, specifically, so I got a bacon burger, with extra bacon, and, um, yeah. Here.” Setting the bag on the foot of the bed, Lucy ducked her head, and my stomach gurgled greedily. “You’re bleeding. I’m gonna go get the doctor.”

  “Yeah.” Pulling out a Styrofoam container, I popped the top to gaze at the mass of fries topped in cheese, bacon, and jalapeños. The next container had two burgers, and the third and final container was full of onion rings, and my mouth watered heavily. “You’re the best, Lucy.”

  I tore my eyes off the food to smile at Lucy, but she looked so uncomfortable and sad under the thick crease between her brows. For a second, the delicious smell took the back burner, and confusion washed my chest as she gulped harshly. Lucy’s washed, fluffy, golden blonde hair swished when she nodded, and thick, red rings surrounded her eyes before she whipped around and walked out.

  Rolling my jaw, I frowned at the empty doorway before turning back to the spread in front of me. All of a sudden, I’m not very hungry.

  7