5. Amorette
AMORETTE
“E at,” Matías said as he slid a plate of eggs and toast over the island. From the moment I walked into the kitchen, he hadn’t looked at me. Not that he stared, but he hadn’t gone out of his way to actively avoid me over the last week.
After the first show of violence, he’d been…pleasant.
Except today, he was looking everywhere but at me. Locks of dark hair covered his eyes as he moved around the kitchen. Instead of pushing them back, he seemed to be using them as a wall or maybe a shield. Not that I believed for a minute that he felt the need to shield himself from me.
“Can I call Grey?” I asked, like I hadn’t asked to call him, Parker, Lafe, or Andre multiple times over the last week. I was starting to sound like a broken record.
He shook his head and dropped the skillet in the sink. His white shirt stretched across his broad shoulders as he turned the water on and rinsed it out. “Shouldn’t you be asking to go home? Weren’t you abducted to go to Maikel’s? How did you even end up with my brothers?”
I paused.
This was different. Matías was different today.
Every other time I’d asked, he’d given me a curt no and continued doing whatever he was working on.
I’d leave it alone until the next time I felt comfortable enough to ask.
He never left the house, giving me ample opportunity to bring it up.
Matías didn’t appear to get angry at my questioning.
His mood was always even, regardless of my questions.
A few men stopped by, but he never let them see me. Matías did try to take meals with me, peppering me with questions I didn’t answer.
Although, they were never about the brothers.
All of our interactions were cordial, mild, and emotionless.
Matías had a bland curiosity about me, but that was as far as his interest in me seemed to go.
If he was asking about them, he wasn’t as uncaring as I thought he was.
And if he was asking about after I was abducted, he’d been talking to someone.
Something was off.
Picking up the toast, I took a bite while keeping my gaze locked on the food.
“What do you mean?” I’d never told him I was at the Gallery.
“You were at Maikel’s. No one would want to stay here or anywhere within the Institution if there was a way out.” He cracked his neck to the right, then to the left, while pouring orange juice for us.
My stomach went cold. “How do you know that?” My tone was measured and lightly curious. I’d been careful not to give him any voluntary details about my time with the brothers. I’d not shared a goddamn thing, and he hadn’t seemed to know any other information outside of the fact that I was theirs.
So how did he know this?
“Sources, little girl. I have sources throughout the entire Institution.” He grinned, but it was pained. Then he leaned against the counter to face me, finally bringing his rich brown gaze to mine. Raising a hand, he trailed one finger down my cheek. “I’ve been kind to you, haven’t I?”
Goosebumps raced down my arms.
Matías also never touched me.
He dropped his hand and stepped back. His body language was too tense. His entire being was poised, trapped, but ready to spring at a moment's notice. I cataloged every nuance of his body language, ready for him to try to catch me off guard, but he only tapped his fingers on the countertop.
“You’ve been very kind,” I drawled out, placing the toast back on the counter, preparing myself to push back and run.
“I haven’t forced myself on you. I haven’t hurt you. Despite my father’s wishes, I’ve been a perfect gentleman.” He sighed as if he should get an award for acting human.
“Do you want to do those things?” I was almost afraid to ask, but I had to know what I was facing. Was this a man reining in his depraved desires on a tight leash, just waiting for the opportunity to snap?
I hadn’t gotten that impression from him at all.
He reminded me so much of Andre with his dark hair, long and sharp features, and skin as rich as his eyes and hair were dark.
Except Matías was colder in his demeanor and personality.
Still, the small similarities made it hard not to fall into the trust I’d given them.
Even if it was only a surface-level trust.
I trusted them not to kill me. I trusted them not to hurt me.
With Matías? There was no such trust even though he hadn’t touched me, as he put it. However, he made it perfectly clear that he could if he wanted to.
“Of course not,” he said with a bright smile—so much like Andre’s.
“Except you won’t tell me why they never mentioned you.
And you won’t let me speak with them.” I clasped my hands in my lap.
For all the kindness he’d shown, I hated it.
It was a ruse to draw me in, and I refused to fall for it.
My palm itched to slap him to get a different reaction than dull curiosity and empty answers.
I needed him to show me his real colors.
“Tell me why Lafe took you.” A command, not a request.
How did he know this much? And if he knew these details, why didn’t he know more?
“Why do you want to know?”
“Call me curious. You’ve asked about them every day. What did they do to make you like them so much, when they had you trade one cage for another?” he mused, more to himself than me.
“Let me talk to them, and I’ll answer your questions.”
“No. But the better question is, what is a woman like you doing trying to make her way back to them instead of going home?” He continued to tap his fingers on the counter again, and the constant noise made me grind my teeth.
I’d never been affected by things like this.
People’s actions, no matter how annoying, didn't get under my skin.
But I’d been here too long.
“What if I said I would take you home? Would you prefer that to my brothers?” His voice dropped to a smooth timber as he watched me with eerie stillness.
I stopped breathing.
This was everything I had hoped for. All that I had wanted since I was abducted. But was that really what I wanted? Could I trust him?
The short answer, I’d learned my lesson. I refused to get taken in again.
A nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach wormed its way up toward my throat. “How can I go home when you haven’t told me if Grey survived the fight?”
He huffed out a laugh and dropped his chin. “I have to give it to you, you’re nothing if not tenacious. Do you care if he lived or died?”
“Of course, I care! I’m not a monster.”
“No, you’re Grey’s girl.”
I shut my mouth. Was I?
Damn it, I was. And just thinking about him left a pang in my heart. I hated it as much as I enjoyed the reminder that I was still alive. At times I thought I’d end up waking from a dream, still stuck in the Gallery.
“What do you want from me, Matías?” I woke up barely thirty minutes ago, and already I was exhausted.
This particular stint in my abduction was different from the others.
Not emotionally and physically traumatizing, like at the warehouse.
Not equal parts frustrating and thrilling, like the compound.
I did indeed feel safe here, as safe as I could feel with anyone wrapped up in this Institution.
But there was something deeper going on here.
“Are you afraid of Vicente? Is that why I’m still here, and you haven’t sent me somewhere else or killed me? ”
So many questions, yet we never answered the important ones. Everything was superficial with Matías.
He studied me, a faint divot appearing between his brows. I must have been such a mystery to him. Better a mystery than a useless nuisance.
“Eat your breakfast. Let me know if you need anything.” Then he stalked out of the room.
“Fuck,” I muttered, picking my toast back up. That wasn’t strange at all.
By the time mid-morning rolled around, Matías found me in the living room watching TV. He fell into the chair, his attention glued to the documentary.
He didn’t mention our strange impasse, and I didn’t either.
Sometimes, I got the feeling like I was a novelty to him. He wasn’t drawn to me like Grey was. Or even Lafe. But he didn’t seem to genuinely understand me either. How could he, growing up in a criminal underworld?
The times he joined me here were more of an exercise or an experiment than a desire to lose a few hours in fluffy entertainment.
“You don’t strike me as the documentary type of girl.” He propped his head on his hand and glanced my way. “Every time I’ve seen you watch TV, it was something like old sitcoms. I’m not even sure where you find them.”
I shrugged. “Depends on my mood, honestly. Right now, I’m craving something mindless, and the monotone narration of documentaries is the best for that.”
“Not a true crime junkie?” A small smile played at the edges of his mouth.
“No.” I shook my head. “That’s a little too close to home, don’t you think?”
He laughed, slapping his leg. Whatever had been bugging him this morning seemed to be gone now. “And tell me, Amorette, what crime have you been a part of?”
“Murder…” I whispered, then slammed a hand over my mouth. I hadn’t meant to say that. It just slipped. “Enough. I’ve seen enough that I don’t want to watch it on TV.” My voice shook, and my pulse jumped.
His laugh tapered off, and a dangerous air settled around his shoulders. “This is fun and games now, but you should watch your tongue. It only takes the wrong word to the wrong person, and your life is forfeit. Often in a way you won’t like,” he said in a low, weighty voice.
I gulped and closed my eyes. What was wrong with me? This wasn’t Lafe. He wasn’t Grey. I needed to keep my mouth shut. Maybe it was time to start looking at escaping. Why hadn’t I memorized one of their numbers?
“You understand, Amorette?” he asked casually, losing the threatening tone.
“I understand.”
And just like that, the tense moment dissipated. Matías spent the next few hours watching TV with me. We watched another documentary, this one on lost cities.
After lunch, he joined me in the living room again, but he paced the floor instead of sitting down. Periodically, he’d look out the window then he would resume his pacing.
“You’re making me nervous.” I was only half joking. The longer he walked around the couch, the more my palms started to sweat. Was this it? Any minute I expected Vicente’s men to come racing through the door.
“You never answered my question earlier. Why do you want to go back to my brothers instead of going home?”
I stood from the couch. “If you want that answer, I need one in return. Why don’t you want to let me call them?” His increased edginess was making me anxious.
Something was about to happen. I was tempted to take my chances and run. I’d looked out the windows. We weren’t around any neighbors, but I didn’t see the ocean either.
“Because we’re not close. We have never been.
Why are they special?” He stopped prowling the room and faced me head-on.
His jaw set as he waited for my answer. Just like almost everyone, he towered over me.
I didn’t think he was doing it on purpose, but I walked a few steps away to ensure he wasn’t about to attack me.
He held up his end of the bargain with a half-assed answer. So, I gave a half-assed one in return. “They’re nice.”
Matías scoffed. “You’re not na?ve. From our limited time together, I can tell you wouldn’t be taken by pretty faces and sweet words. What’s the real reason?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “How are you related to the brothers?”
He pinched his lips together, glanced out the window, then back at me. A look of…jealousy or something close crossed his face. “Just how close did you get to my brothers while you were with them?”
“That’s none of your fucking business,” I spat. I’d been lulled into a false sense of safety. Ridiculous, considering I’d watched him kill a man. Yet here I was, rebounding back now that it felt like shit was about to hit the fan.
Raising one eyebrow, Matías didn’t seem impressed with my outburst. “I’m not your enemy here. I’m asking how much you know about their relationship with Vicente.”
Pulling in a deep breath, I said, “I know they’re the bastard sons.”
That pulled a self-deprecating smile from Matías. “Well, there’s your answer. Why do you think we would have grown up together but not at all?”
This whole time, I thought he would have been another half-sibling. Maybe even that his mother lived outside the mansion. But…it sounded like they grew up together.
“You’re a legitimate son.” Still a half-sibling, just a different kind.
“The apple of Vicente’s eye,” he sneered. “You can imagine how that would put a wedge between them and me.”
“Are you their enemy?” Breathing became difficult as I ran through all the questions he’d peppered me with today.
Why did I want to go back? What made them so special? Why did Lafe take me?
This new piece of information put an entirely different spin on every interaction between us.
“They’d like to think so, but no.” He shook his head, his shoulders slumping.
“If you’re not their enemy, let me call them.”
“Answer one more question for me. Give me an honest answer. Why do you want to return to them when I can offer you a way back home?” He tilted his head, confused as to how my mind worked.
That was fine–since my abduction, the inner workings of my mind had confounded me too.
“I don’t trust you. Kindness doesn’t spawn trust. And Grey, Lafe, Andre, and Parker– they’ve earned my trust.” That was as close to the truth as he would get. “Your phone?” I held out my hand.
“No need. They’re here. Just remember this. I helped you get back to them.” Matías pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen.
Within a minute, Andre and Lafe were walking through the door.