16. Tommy
16
Tommy
As the deep color of dark red stains the sink with fallen drops from my fingers, I watch in the mirror as Valeria prods at her cheek. When she winces, my jaw aches with how tightly my teeth are clenched.
I should’ve broken his fingers. His legs, too. If only I had more time. If only.
If it weren’t for her watchful eyes burning into my back for the entirety of my revenge, I may have considered knocking him unconscious before dragging him back home to make him truly hurt.
At that moment, I couldn’t think that far ahead in the future. All I wanted her to see was his life leave his body. She’s seen one man die before her eyes, and it left her with trauma. I didn’t think about doubling down on her mental health. Something deep inside of me promised she’d be more upset with me if I let him leave that cabin alive. After the fact, I think so even more.
The woman staring at herself doesn’t look scared. She looks content despite the situation she’s in.
When her eyes flick over toward me, her reflection doesn’t fill with anger or disgust. It should, though.
She should be upset that I let her get hurt in the first place.
“You’ve got your thoughts written all over your face.” Shaking her head, she turns and pulls my attention away from the mirror. “I’m okay, I promise.”
On the outside, she may have new scars on her cheek. On the inside, I have no idea what he has done to her before our arrival. If I ask her, will she tell me?
“Valeria–”
She reaches out and grabs one of my hands, letting droplets of clear water hit the counter. She squeezes it tight despite the raw wounds radiating heat from my knuckles. Lifting my hand, she brushes her mouth against my fingers before her breath tickles the skin.
“Thank you for finding me. I thought you might–” Her voice wavers, and her brows pinched together. “I wouldn’t abandon you again. I want you to know that.”
I was foolish to think she would. If it weren’t for her mother, I would have spiraled back to where I was that day all those years ago. I can’t go back.
Pulling my hand from hers, my fingers slide toward her face to carefully cup her cheeks and tilt her head back. Leaning in, the tightness of my chest loosens when my mouth presses against hers.
I don’t know how long I spend kissing her, long enough to quiet the rage burning in the corners of my thoughts. Long enough to hear one of her brothers calling out her name.
We have to go. As much as I want to do more than kiss her lips and taste her relief, we have to go.
“Santino will draw out any rats. We might need to take our time returning home,” Urzo warns us as we make our way out of the cabin. “Unless you want to see our brother when he’s acting the part.”
Her nose wrinkles, and she rubs her arm. “I think I’ve seen enough violence today.”
Humming my agreement, I walk her out of the cabin, blocking out most of our surroundings with my body so she doesn’t have to look.
Lazaro carefully sets his gun into the trunk. “You’ve got to take me back home. Might as well properly get cleaned up first. Just don’t cause a scene. I don’t want Abigail to worry.”
With how often he stays away from the family, I’ve only gotten the chance to meet his wife once or twice. Seeing a bunch of bloodied in-laws might be what hammers the final nail in the coffin.
Valeria nods before I can think about declining. She squeezes my hand, and that’s that. She’s going to meet Abigail.
Before we leave, Urzo and Lazaro take care of making a message out of this. Using gasoline from the cars parked around the cabin, they spread enough fuel to leave nothing behind. After lighting a cigarette, Lazaro’s the one to set the place ablaze.
For a few minutes, we watch the mixture of red and orange light up our surroundings. The sky up above changes colors as dusk approaches, and the night sky should help conceal the smoke long enough for us to make it out of here.
Valeria’s car isn’t on the lot. Who knows what they’ve done with it? If I had to guess, Elijah sent out the order to get rid of any evidence with the intention of never giving her a way of escape.
“I’ll find it,” I promise her softly with the saddened look on her face at the realization her precious car is gone. Even if it costs me my savings if they put it up for sale, or I have to check every storage lot state, I’ll find it.
Her smile is rewarding, setting my promise in stone.
As the Bertelli brothers take the front seats of the car, we take the back. As soon as she slides in, I don’t give her time to fumble with the seat belt. Instead, I’m dragging her toward my lap and tucking my nose to the crook of her neck. Breathing in, I feel like I can finally relax.
“I smell disgusting,” she groans, her hand finding my chest as she tries to put a little distance between us.
She doesn’t. Whether she’s freshly showered or just took a bath in blood, she is the best-smelling thing that’s ever hit my nose. It’s why I tug her closer, humming in disagreement as my arms lock her in place.
Realizing she’s got nowhere else to go, she settles comfortably against my thighs as Urzo drives away from the flickering flames that are engulfing the cabin,
Lazaro lives in a suburban patch on the edge of our part of the state. By the time we pull into the drive, the sky is scattered with stars and the moon is most of the lighting we have to make it up to his front door.
Before we can crack it open, the door is yanked open. Abigail stands there with big, wide eyes, taking us all in. Thankfully, Lazaro is the only one of us who doesn’t have blood specs on his clothing—perks of attacking from a distance.
Watching the way she throws her arms around him and kisses him with relief, I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have Valeria meet me the same way every time I finish a job.
Would she be happy to see me, knowing what I do? Or, will she grimace every time I return to her smelling the way I do now?
My brows pinch together as I think deeper about it.
“These guys are going to clean up a little and hang out.” Lazaro motions toward his sister with a smile once the two part ways. “You’ve met the other two, but this is my sister, Val.”
Abigail takes her in with surprise. “The dead one?”
“The one and only,” Valeria laughs softly as she stirs where she stands. “Just very much alive now, thank goodness.”
Abigail welcomes her with a warm smile and motions us all to shuffle inside. With one hand planted on her rounded stomach, and the other offering a warm entrance, it’s hard not to lower my guard.
For now, I think I’ll be okay too.
Leaving our shoes at the door, Urzo stays at the entrance with his phone while the other two motion us deeper into the home.
“Urzo will need the first aid kit once he’s done reassuring his wife that he’s fine before she sees the damage,” Lazaro explains to Abigail softly, his hand finding the middle of her back.
Staring at Abigail, I take in how normal she looks. Not at all like Camellia or Eliza who both came from another family in the same business as ours. She’s just a medical worker, as normal as normal can be.
Over the years, Lazaro’s skills haven’t dulled despite his claim of being rusty. He’s still the best shot I’ve ever seen. Still, it’s easy to see he’s not as hardened as he was before he left the family to live this peaceful life of his.
He is the one outlier to prove that men like us can live outside of our violent upbringings.
Letting my eyes slide back to the woman next to me, I watch as she looks around curiously. Is she thinking about the same things I am?
Did she have something similar once she got out as well? Before the gambling addiction, before her riches, did she own herself a small, dainty apartment to call her own?
Noticing the weight of my stare, Valeria glances my way with a hint of a smile, and I feel something stir around. Something that wouldn’t settle if I demanded it to.
After Abigail instructs me on where the bathroom is, I follow at Valeria’s heel as she starts to walk.
She looks over her shoulder, her mouth twitches into what looks to be a hint of a smile. “Tommy.”
Do I think I’m going to have to fight off a threat in the bathroom? Of course not.
After spending the length of the drive to Elijah’s home thinking about how I’d never forgive myself if I found Valeria injured, or worse, there’s no way in hell I’m going to let her out of my sight.
Not because I want to keep her safe, but because without her, it feels like a piece of me is missing. A piece I can’t replace with anything else in this world.
“Keep walking,” I order softly, refusing to stop.
She does, much to my relief. Looking too exhausted to argue, she leads me inside the cramped bathroom. By the time I’m nudging the door shut with my foot, she’s dragging her fingers against her temple like she’s got a migraine.
Is she crashing from everything?
“He had me kidnapped and drugged,” she explains slowly as her eyes pinched shut. “Didn’t want to say it in front of the others, but that’s not all he did. Wanted me to pay off my debt through him and slapped me when I rejected him. I never had a clue.”
My nose flares at her words, and my fingers twitch at my sides. As anger flickers up, my nails dig into my palms. “I knew.”
She opens her eyes, blinking at me. “You did?”
“Bad apples tend to fall from the same tree, Val.” I tear my eyes from hers when she frowns.
Now she looks angry.
“He was a monster,” she reminds me, as if it were evidence that what I said was wrong.
“We’re the same. Knew it the moment I saw him. Like looking in a mirror.” My brows knit together, and I refuse to move when she steps toward me. I don’t flinch when she reaches out for me, either.
Her hands cradle my cheeks as she stretches to reach me. “You are not a monster. If you were, what does that say about me? Since I…” Her next word catches in her throat.
My next breath feels like a lump the size of my fist in mine. “You what?”
I watch as she bites on her lip in contemplation, and the more seconds that pass by without me hearing the word on her tongue, the crazier I become.
“Since I love you,” she finally finishes off, her eyes falling immediately.
There’s a heavy thump in my chest, and I realize it’s my heart. I’m starting to get used to the way it crashes around in my chest whenever this woman is involved.
Staring at her, she soon frowns up at me. “Say something.”
I can’t. Instead, I grab her face and kiss her as the word love bounces around in my head.
This woman loves me.
Hearing her say it out loud has silently filled my thoughts with the imagery of the future. I want things I’ve never wanted before, anything that results in not just her happiness, but my own as well.
As my tongue finds hers, our breathing tangles with soft pants as the heat of the kiss grows higher in temperature quickly.
Pressing her against the counter of the sink, I’m touching her shirt and plucking at the fabric. It’s the same shirt she wore the night before, but one I’ve stripped away from her already once.
Her hand finds my chest before I can peel it from her skin.
“First impressions are everything, and I don’t think they’d appreciate us doing this,” she softly murmurs against my jaw, holding onto the last trace of sense she possesses. She trembles when my fingers push underneath her shirt.
“They told us to clean up.” My mouth drifts to her neck, and I’ll lick where her pulse races. “That’s what we are doing.”
Arching against me, her flat palm curls around my shirt, and she grips it tightly. “Are we, though?”
Sighing against her skin, I find the strength to pull away from her. Turning toward a pristine looking clean shower, I twist at knobs and get the water going until steam is filling the air. Yanking at my shirt, I peel it off my shoulders and hear her gasp.
Not because she’s impressed with my physique, but because of the bruises on my sides. While I might have dodged some bullets, that didn’t stop me from getting hit.
“You’re hurt,” she points out, concern extinguishing the heat in her gaze.
I’m right back toward her before it can be doused completely. “I don’t even feel it.”
Maybe I will in a few hours, or even tomorrow. Right now, I’ve been running off one rush after another. With the knowledge that this woman loves me fueling me now, I am pulling off her shirt and growling at the back of my throat.
No bra. Someone took her from our home, and she didn’t even have a fucking bra on.
Her breath catches as my palm grazes one of her breasts. Her tightening nipple grazes between my fingers as I give her body a squeeze. “Did he touch you?”
Her breath shakes, and she bites her lip as she thinks about how she’ll answer me. Unless the answer is no, I would dread whatever words come from her lips.
“He kissed me. Or, tried to, anyway. I tried to bite his tongue off.” Instead of lying to me to save my feelings, she mutters the truth. It doesn’t feel like she holds back any information, so I am somewhat relieved.
The rest of me is furious.
“Whatever it takes, I won’t allow another man to touch you.” Adding another promise to my list, I reach up to run my thumb against her bottom lip. “This mouth is mine.”
Agreeing to my statement with a satisfied hum, she pulls me down to her mouth once more. Slowly, we undress each other as more steam floods into the room. Once nothing is left on us, I carry her to the shower.
Lazaro has one of those nice walk-in ones with glass walls. As easy as it would be to watch Valeria wash her body, I want to be the one to do it.
I want to scrub the blood from her body and her hair. I want to be the one to wash away today and make it impossible for her to think about it ever again.
She lets me do just that, sighing when my hands find certain places. I try to keep my thoughts clear, but everything in my head is as hazy as the room itself.
“I can wash that,” she pants as my hand spreads the suds toward her pussy. Once I’m cupping the curls, her eyes are fluttering close.
“Let me,” I rumble as my fingers part her folds. She’s radiating with heat, lighting up from how many times I’ve made contact with her skin.
Hardly putting up a fight, she moves her hand to her mouth to silence the start of a moan. Her other hand slides to my wrist, gripping it tightly as my fingers find her clit.
Listening to Valeria is addictive. Watching her unravel only adds to my hunger for her.
If my cock wasn’t hard already, it is now. Hard as steel, it brushes up against her thigh as I coax out more muffled moans with my fingers.
As much as I would love to lift her leg and slide right in, now isn’t the place. I want her on my bed where she can be as loud as she wants to be without worrying about anyone listening in.
Once I get her breathlessly panting my name and clamping her thighs shut, I pull away and satisfy myself the best I can by licking my fingers.
“The soap–”
“All I can taste is your delicious pussy,” I promise her, showing the way her juices cling to my fingers.
Growing all pretty in pink, I ignore the urge to taste the rest of her and opt to finish washing up before someone starts knocking on the door and urging us to hurry along.
Once we are drying off, her nose wrinkles at her ruined clothing. I’m happy to burn both of our outfits to help forget all about today’s events.
Opening the door with a towel around my waist, I leave her behind to find the others.
Lazaro doesn’t enjoy me standing in their living room where his wife can see, so he’s happy to lend me a shirt and sweats. The problem is, he’s a little smaller than I am, but I manage as best as I can. Abigail donates an outfit as well, one I can only assume she does not intend to get back.
I have no idea what my future looks like with the couple. If Valeria wants to stay in their lives, whether Lazaro wants her to or not, I won’t stand in her way. Rather, I’ll be at her side.
Thanking them both, I return to the bathroom and give her the clothing. Once we are dressed, we let Urzo do the same.