Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
I sigh and settle back in the bed.
When the door opens, I jump.
Mateo, his eyes wild and blood streaked across his bare chest, carries a bloody box under one arm and a hammer in his hand.
“What—”
He marches to the wall across from the foot of the bed, opens the box, pulls out a bloody hand and proceeds to nail it to the wall.
My gorge rises as he pulls another hand from the box and does the same.
“Mateo, what is this?” My voice is small, my heart pounding. But I know what it is. I knew the second Mateo appeared with gore splashed across his chest.
He tosses the box and the hammer down with a rough clatter, then turns to me. “He’ll never touch you again, Lucretia. Neither will anyone else. You’re safe. You’re mine.” He stalks over to me, his bloody hands at his sides, his eyes on me. “Do you believe me?”
I stare up at him, and for the first time since we’ve met, I see pain in him. No, not just pain. Agony. He’s torn apart, but I realize in that split-second it’s not because of what he did to Geno. It’s because of what Geno did to me. He’s blood-splattered and weary, but he did this for me. He killed a man in my name, and I can’t handle the wealth of emotions, some of them discordant and dark, that it pulls from me.
“Mateo …” My voice falters.
“Tell me you believe me, Lucretia. Tell me you trust me.” He holds my gaze, his body drawn tight like a piano wire.
I shouldn’t trust him. I shouldn’t be anything but horrified. He just nailed a man’s mutilated hands to my bedroom wall. But the pain in him is real, the regret is real. There is no ridicule in his tone, no thinly-veiled hate. There’s so much more. More emotion than I thought possible in him, despite what Lito tried to tell me.
The words come to my lips with no effort, as easy as breathing. “I trust you.”
He closes his eyes as if he’s relishing the sound. Then, without a word, he strides into the bathroom and shuts the door. I hear the shower turn on.
I stare at the hands, half mesmerized, half fearful they might move. I can’t get my bearings, and my head begins to pound.
“Hey, whoa—” Lito is in the doorway, a plate of waffles in his hand. He stares at the hands on the wall. “That’s … That’s …” He gags, then straightens and wipes one hand across his mouth. “That’s no less than he deserved.” With a determined stride, he walks to the bed and sits beside me, then lowers his voice. “But I totes understand if you aren’t in the mood for waffles right now.”
21
MATEO
“I can go.” Lito sits on the pool table, blocking Red’s shot. “I’m good at stuff like that.”
“No.” I lean back against the wall.
“Why not?” Lito frowns.
“Because Sarita is playing chess, and you’re eating the checkers.”
“Ass.” He waves a hand at me.
Red prods him with his pool stick. “Do you mind?”
“Fine. Whatever.” He stands and paces around to the front of the billiard table.
“She’s trying to sway sentiment to her side just as we expected.” Sonny watches the game, but he never shoots pool. “She’s already hit up several of the families on her self-pity tour, and I’m afraid some of them are falling for it.” He glances at me. “Likely because you rattled the shit out of them at the wedding. They feel vulnerable now, as I said they would.”
“We needed the show of force at the wedding.” I shrug off his criticism. “It let everyone know that the Milani family is ready to take over. They need to fall in line or they’ll end the same way the Manchellos did.”
Sonny rubs the bridge of his nose. “I think diplomacy—”
“Diplomacy got my parents slaughtered, Sonny,” I snap.
He sighs. “I’m only trying to help you.”
“Go easy on the old man.” Red points his pool cue at him. “He can’t take the strain.”
Sonny bounces to his feet. “This ‘old man’ can take you outside and kick your ass. How about that?”
“At least you guys never change.” Lito grins. “I’ve missed you.”
“I know you’re trying to help, and I appreciate you, Sonny. I just know in my bones that this is going to have to go down a different way. Diplomacy isn’t going to solve the rot in the families. The Fontanas and Sarita are proof of that. They never went down for what they did to us, so all I’m doing is rectifying what the families have ignored.”
Sonny leans back and blows out a long sigh. “How’s she doing?” he asks. He doesn’t have to say her name.
“Much better. Her head’s almost healed up, and her back isn’t anywhere near as sore as it was a couple of days ago. She’s tired of being on bed rest, though.” Lito glances at me.