Lyric

by Molly McAdams

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Gabe stared at me for a moment, stunned that I clearly didn’t know yet another thing. Leaning forward, he growled in my ear, “There’s a reason your brother was made boss at thirteen. Didn’t any of you think someone else would better fit the job?”

  I looked past him, denial and confusion warring within me.

  “Blood had to fill the position to keep our contracts and alliances alive. Dare was the only blood male. No one else was allowed to take the position. The older gens knew that.”

  “No . . . no, that’s not—”

  “Read the damn contract, Libby.”

  “Dare would’ve told me,” I yelled at him, pushing him away.

  He spread his arms wide, gun still hanging from one of his hands. “You sure about that?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “If he knew,” he said calmly, conceding. “Vince came back livid after his visit when your old man died. Kept yelling about your brother and how he was going to try to break the contract.”

  “Of course he wanted to break the contract. For me.”

  Gabe looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “It’s a blood contract, Libby. Do you know what breaking one means? Did you read the last line?” He stepped closer and lowered his tone. “War, Libby. Death.”

  I blinked slowly when I realized what he was saying—what his family had done.

  “He was thirteen,” Gabe continued. “Not hard to think he might not have been told by the older gen why he became boss. That no one else was allowed to. But before Vince could remind your brother how serious our arrangement was, he stopped fighting Vince on it.”

  “And then Vince died,” I said through gritted teeth. “And your uncle let Dare break the contract. He knew Dare had no idea what he was doing and he welcomed it. Your uncle wanted Dare to start a war.”

  “Do you see a war going on between us?” he asked in a dangerously low tone. “Are Borellos disappearing? Do you see them dropping all around you? There is no war because we figured your brother didn’t have a fucking clue what was really going on.”

  I stared blankly at Gabe when he turned and holstered his gun as he started pacing. His long legs easily eating up the space. “I don’t . . . I don’t understand.” I shook my head, trying to sort through the chaos swirling around inside. “Why not tell him? Why not retaliate after he did it—or after I didn’t go to Chicago?”

  He stopped suddenly.

  For a long time, he stayed like that. Back to me, body still, barely showing even a hint that he was breathing.

  “It was obvious he would’ve done anything to have you taken out of the contract . . . and that’s not something anyone can do. We knew he would’ve taken it to a point we didn’t want it to go, so my uncle let him think he could have it his way.” He turned to face me and folded his arms over his chest. “Dare gave us information and weapons. Helping each other is in the contract—not that we needed the help—but he wasn’t offering anything that we didn’t already have a right to.”

  I lifted my chin. “And me?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted into that crooked smile. “You?” A breath of a laugh left him. “Jesus, Libby . . . Moretti almost went to war against each other over you.”

  “I’m sorry you didn’t.”

  He shot me a cold glare. “Nearly half of us wanted to send someone after you. To bring you to Chicago and keep you locked away until you broke. Until you begged to be allowed into the family.”

  “I would’ve fought my way out, killing as many of you as I could.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” For a split second, amusement and pride flashed through his eyes. “The other half was sure it would have the younger generation of Borellos coming after us. Once again, starting a war.”

  “And which side were you on?” I asked, my tone part challenge, part taunt.

  “The contract said if you didn’t come to us, you would be transferred to us by a person of our choosing.” He held out his arms. “I’ve been here . . . and you’re still here.”

  I tried to hide the horror now pulsing through me as everything began clicking in place. “Wait, you? What about Christian?”

  Rage burned in his eyes. “He’s the only son of Vince’s oldest son. He’s next in line by birth . . . but no one thought he deserved it—including his old man. It’s been in place for me to take over since the contract was written. You learn a lot about yourself and your limits when you’re forced to watch your wife fuck other men for years.”

  “I am not your wife.”

  Gabe was suddenly there, in my space with his face directly in front of my own. Body pressed to mine and hands on the wall, caging me in. “We have an arrangement bound in blood. And it says you’re mine.”

  “No,” I yelled, my voice getting louder and higher when I continued. “Why didn’t Vince or your uncle tell Dare what the contract was? If he would’ve seen it, he wouldn’t have done what he did. If I would’ve seen it, I wouldn’t have thought all these years—” A sob wrenched from my chest.

  That I could’ve had a future with Maxon.

  That I’d really escaped the whole thing.

  “Thought what?” he asked, goading. “That you weren’t married? That you weren’t already fucking your husband? That you weren’t finalizing the contract the first night you slept with me?”

  My stomach rolled and my head felt light.

  I’d tried to live life without regrets. Who knew the tall, dark, handsome strangers in my bar would end up being the biggest regrets of my life?

  “I hate you,” I breathed.

  “Dare never saw the contract because we didn’t have it at the time,” he mumbled after a few moments. “The lawyer did. He’d had it from the day it was written. When you turned twenty-one, I got a call that he signed it. He told me to let him know when the next step was completed, and he would take care of getting the priest’s signature.”

  I slapped him.

  He looked stunned before his eyes set in anger.

  His hand shot out to catch mine before it could connect with his face a second time.

  “You tricked me into sleeping with you to get a fucking signature,” I yelled and tried to wrench my hand free.

  “Is that right?” He dipped his head close, his mouth grazing my jaw when he whispered, “I seem to remember it going a little differently. You flirted relentlessly. You gave me your number. You asked if I was going to take you back to my place.”

  “Stop.”

  His knee pressed between my thighs. “You begged.”

  “Stop.”

  “And that was just the first time.”

  “Shut up.” I thrashed against him and finally got my hand free enough to push him away.

  Instead of the amused or taunting look I’d been expecting, he looked furious. “And the entire damn time, you just wanted placeholders until some guy came back. But I tricked you.”

  A harsh laugh left me. “I never said I wanted anything from you other than what we had. It was sex. Nothing more.” I waved a hand at him and curled my lip. “And don’t act so hurt now. You never pretended it meant anything to you. You never pretended I did. Not until now.”

  His face fell. Again, he looked at me like he didn’t know how I couldn’t understand the situation. “I was trying to figure out how to get to know my wife when she had no idea we were married,” he yelled. “I was trying to figure out how to gain her trust and get her to fall for me, all the while knowing how she would react when she found out my name. I was fucking pissed off that I had to watch my wife flirt with other men—and know that I couldn’t do anything about it without telling her everything.”

  “Years. You were there for years and you never said anything.”

  “Would it have changed anything?”

  “In your favor?” I wanted to laugh in his face. I wanted to tell him he was delusional. But the genuine curiosity and want pooling in his eyes stopped me. “Gabe, you’ve been stalking me. Y
ou’ve been scaring me and killing guys I knew for one night.” I held his hardened stare and clenched my teeth. “A night. You married me without my consent. You’ve lied to me about who you are. And you have me chained to a wall.” My chest pitched with a ragged breath. “The guy I used to beg to smile? I have no idea who that is. I don’t know who you are. But even if all that was taken away . . . there’s still Maxon.”

  He nodded slowly and started to turn but stopped to look at me again. “I didn’t say anything because after a while, I had to come to terms with the fact that you’d hate me when you found out. And I lived for Friday nights. They were the only nights I could let you see me. The only time I could talk to you. I craved the nights I took you back to my place. And I knew those would be gone when you found out. It would go one of two ways after that . . . I’d drag you back to Chicago kicking and screaming, and you’d hate me. Or the war I’d been trying to prevent all along would finally happen.”

  “So what now?” I asked when he started slowly pacing again. “If you keep me here, my family will find me. If you take me anywhere else, I’ll spend every waking minute thinking of how to escape until I finally get the chance. Either way, you will never own any part of me.”

  “I’ve never wanted to own you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t belong to me. And like I said, we are passionate about keeping what belongs to us.” He stopped a few feet from me and faced me. “This is the one time I agree with my cousin’s methods.”

  My brows pulled tight and stomach knotted when he pulled out his phone and tapped on it.

  “Alive, Maxon will always be in the way, Libby.” He flashed me a quick smile. “I appreciate you telling me where he is.”

  The room tilted. “No.”

  Gabe held the phone to his ear, his expression settling into stone as he waited.

  “Gabe, no. Please . . . please, I’ll do anything. I’ll go to Chicago. I won’t run. Just don’t do this.”

  His eyes locked on me. “Kill him.”

  Maxon

  “I’VE GOT SOMETHING,” EINSTEIN MURMURED.

  I looked up, my movements slow as I tried to process what I’d read in the contract—what it possibly meant for Libby.

  For us.

  “There’s nothing for Moretti, but Christian Daniel and Gabe Anthony—both partial names of a couple of our Moretti boys—have a firm in Raleigh. They also have apartments, and Christian has a warehouse on the way there in a very secluded place. Not sketchy at all.”

  “We’re hitting that first,” Dare said as they all moved into action. When I stood, he put a hand to my shoulder. “We’ll get her.”

  “Get your fucking hand off me.”

  His stare hardened. “I can’t lose another part of my family. You’ll get in the way and guarantee that.”

  Before I could respond, Einstein said, “Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy . . . not even checking the property first.” She clicked her tongue, her eyes glued to the screen and fingers unnaturally still where they rested on the keyboard. “Someone’s trying to sneak up on us, Dare.”

  Dare stepped up behind her, looking at the live feed she was watching.

  “One of ours?”

  “No. Looks like he was sent to keep us here. Walked on too. Guess he didn’t want us to hear the car or see headlights.”

  Dare looked over his shoulder at me and the guys. “Are you expecting anyone?” When we didn’t respond fast enough, he ticked off, “Food, friends, manager. Anyone.”

  “No,” we all murmured.

  He looked back at the screens. “Maverick. Diggs. Take care of it.”

  “Hell yes. Wait,” Diggs said, putting his hands out and looking around with a devastated expression. “This is the first time without bandanas. Should we have a moment of silence? This is huge and kinda sad.”

  “Jesus, Diggs. Go,” Dare barked.

  I watched the twins leave, then asked, “What the hell do bandanas have to do with someone coming onto the property?”

  Dare pulled the neck of his shirt up so it was resting just below his eyes and gave me a sidelong glance before letting it fall into place.

  Knowing who he was, it was oddly unsettling.

  “Wait, that’s our property?” Ledger asked, just now catching on. “You’re watching us?”

  “How long have you been watching us?” Jared demanded, his tone hinting he was more impressed than annoyed.

  Einstein grinned over her shoulder as everything on the screens started disappearing.

  “I think I love her,” Lincoln whispered next to me.

  “Don’t go there.”

  Einstein shut the laptops and hopped off the barstool, her head already down and fingers flying over her tablet. “Dare and Lily, be ready to go. You,” she said, stopping next to me. “You’re going with Conor and me . . . I’ll get you a weapon.”

  “He’s not even here,” I said through clenched teeth.

  And he was the last person I wanted to see.

  Just then the door flung open and a massive brick wall of a guy stepped in, face impassive as he gestured behind him. “Dead guy out front.”

  The guy from Libby’s apartment . . .

  “Is this Conor?” I asked on a stunned breath.

  “Yep.” Einstein turned toward him, calling out behind her, “Let’s go.”

  “You. I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

  Conor held up his hands in surrender. “Man, it wasn’t my idea. Swear there’s nothing going on between us. You gotta take it up with Libby when we get her back.”

  I followed Einstein to the door. “Fuck you.”

  He nodded. “Deserved.”

  My bandmates were whispering curses of shock and confusion and trying to figure out what was happening and where I was going, when Ledger suddenly laughed. “Holy shit, no way. We’re being Punk’d.”

  If only it were that simple.

  Libby

  I WASN’T SURE HOW LONG it had been since the phone call.

  But I’d stopped screaming at Gabe that I was going to kill him.

  I’d stopped yelling my hate for him.

  He’d started pacing again. At some point, his gun had made it back into his hand.

  And the frequency that he checked his watch was increasing, as was his agitation.

  “Is he not checking in?” I asked, taunting him. “Did your guy not make it? Or maybe he failed . . .”

  He shot me a warning look, but continued pacing.

  After another few minutes and a dozen watch checks, he grabbed his phone and called.

  I knew there was no answer the moment Gabe’s feet stilled.

  He rubbed his forehead with the back of the hand holding the gun before letting it drop heavily to his side. With a harsh breath, he turned and charged toward me.

  I grounded myself and prepared for the hit, but it never came.

  He stopped right before me and holstered the gun before roughly turning me to the side.

  My heart took off when one of the ankle cuffs fell away, but I didn’t react in any way to give my thoughts away.

  But he knew them. Of course he did.

  The instant both feet were freed, he shoved me face first against the wall and drove his shoulder into my back so I couldn’t move.

  I tried to clear my mind. Tried to only focus on what was crucial so I could make a move when the cuffs dropped from my wrists.

  And failed.

  Steel rattling.

  Maxon, I’m sorry.

  Slight shift in Gabe’s stance.

  Maxon, forgive me.

  Another hitch in Gabe’s breathing.

  Maxon, I love you.

  I was suddenly yanked away from the wall and dragged away, my stunned and horrified gaze dropping to my hands.

  In front of me. Two sets of handcuffs now on each wrist. Gabe’s white-knuckled grip on the long lengths of chain connecting my hands.

  I looked to the door Christian had walked through earlier then to the gun in Gabe’s other hand again, my min
d racing as I thought of dozens of scenarios.

  None of them ended in my favor.

  Others ended in unknown.

  Better the unknown than the alternative.

  I fought against his hold, pulling back until I could feign stumbling and falling backward.

  Gabe’s grasp slipped. He lunged for me at the same time I pushed forward and rushed him. I twisted away from his reach and jumped onto his back, bent and ready for me.

  Before he could react, I locked my ankles around his waist and looped the chains around his throat, pulling tight and crossing my hands over each other behind the back of his neck.

  The gun clattered noisily to the concrete floor when he stood, his hands going to the steel digging into his throat.

  I pulled tighter and leaned closer, my teeth clenched tight and voice trembling when I said, “My family’s gonna come through a door any minute. They’ll make your death slow and painful for what you’ve done to me over the years . . . for the last two weeks . . . for tonight. If I haven’t killed you first.”

  He yanked on the sides of the chains, only succeeding in tightening the twisted metal.

  “This is for every man you killed. This is for Maxon. And this is for me.” Tightening my thighs on his hips, I sucked in deep breath and flung all my body weight back, throwing us off-balanced and sending us crashing down to the floor.

  Just before we hit, I released the breath, shut my eyes, and made my body go limp.

  It was such a bad fucking idea.

  My head cracked on the concrete, sending blinding pain spider-webbing across my skull and black spots dancing across my vision when I could see at all.

  What air remained in my lungs was forced from them when Gabe landed on me.

  It felt like he’d shattered every bone in my body.

  My head lolled to the side, and a weak cry left my lips when I saw the gun just feet from me.

  I unwrapped the chains from Gabe’s neck and struggled to stand when he rolled off me, sucking in deep breaths that sounded like inverted screams. When my legs continued giving out, I crawled to the gun and gripped it in my trembling hand.

  Each breath was agony.

  I felt seconds from passing out.

  The image of the enraged Gabe wouldn’t stand still.