16. Matti
Matti
I kick open the front door of the Edge, Siena limp in my arms. “Olivia! OLIVIA!”
Olivia Neroli rushes in, tucking her white blonde hair behind both ears, her wide eyes locking on Siena. “Oh my God, what happened?”
“Set up the med room and call Doc,” I snap.
She nods briskly, pulling out her phone to call Dr. Massimo Rossi, the family physician we keep on standby. “I’ll get towels and prep a tray for sutures.”
I nod again, already moving down the hall.
Olivia is like a little sister to me, Vin, and Tommy.
She’s been around for years, a fixture of the Demonio family after her own family fell apart.
Starting at a young age, she cleaned up our messes; now 22, she is both sharp and loyal.
She’s one of the few constants in a world where trust gets you killed.
Siena stirs faintly in my arms, but she doesn’t wake up. By the time I lay her down on the clean sheets of the med room cot, she’s still as a doll again.
The space smells faintly of antiseptic and dust, the cold sterility broken only by the faint sound of Siena breathing.
This room isn’t for people like her. It’s for patching up me and Vin after fights we can’t bring to the ER.
We don’t even bring soldiers down here. The Edge is our place—mine, Vin’s, and Tommy’s. Even Aurelio stays away.
But even if she weren’t injured, I would have brought her here, anyway. The Edge is a warehouse where Vin and I handle our enemies, but it’s also where we go when we don’t want to be found.
I’m going to have a hard time convincing Vin that she shouldn’t die just for knowing about the place. As far as he’s concerned, she’ll have outlived her usefulness once we have the flash drive in hand.
I’m not looking forward to explaining to him why I brought her here at all. And if he finds out that she’s related to Franco, he’ll never trust her. Vin hates Franco more than I do because of the special treatment Aurelio shows him.
I clench my jaw, staring down at her pale, bruised face. The back of her head is sticky with blood, her hair matted to her scalp. The wound isn’t deep, but I still don’t want to touch it until Rossi gets here.
Her wrists and ankles are raw from the ropes AJ used. Just thinking about him tying her up—or touching her—makes my fists itch to connect with his face again.
I’m going to enjoy taking care of that piece of shit once I know my girl is okay.
Fuck. She’s not my girl . God damn it, why do I keep doing that? She’s leverage. A means to an end. Of course, I wouldn’t mind fucking her, but that’s it. She’s no one I’m going to ruin my life for.
So why can’t I stop looking at her? Even battered and bloody, she’s fucking beautiful.
My chest tightens as a wave of guilt washes over me. I should have protected her, kept her out of harm’s way.
I thought the tracker was enough to keep tabs on her, to make sure that I could get to her before anything went sideways. But I failed her, and because I wasn’t there to protect her, she fell into AJ’s hands.
I hope I didn’t fail her again by bringing her here.
My gaze falls on the way her dress drapes over her round tits, the curve of her belly, her thick thighs. My cock twitches, and I drag the palm of my hand up her leg to the rug burn that stains her thighs red and disappears under her hemline.
I think about what likely happened to put those carpet burns there, what AJ might have done to her. The idea of another man putting his hands on her—even Dr. Rossi—makes me want to burn the fucking world down. So I decide to get things started without him.
The water in the sink runs warm as I soak a washcloth, wringing it out before carefully wiping the blood from her face. She doesn’t stir, but her breathing is steady.
I clean her neck and chest before easing her jacket off. Her shoes and socks follow, each motion slow and deliberate. When I work the dress over her head, I can’t help but notice the bruises on her back, the cuts, more rug burns on her stomach and chest.
Every muscle in my body tenses. AJ will pay for this. I’m going to cut his tongue out of his head and show it to him before I shove it down his throat.
When she’s finally lying in nothing but simple cotton underwear, I can’t tear my eyes off of her. Her bra and panties are nothing fancy, nothing provocative, but somehow, it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
I run my fingertip just under the waistband of her underwear. Her skin is so soft. My cock stiffens as I remember how wet her pussy got for me yesterday when I was searching her for the flash drive, her heat burning so hot I could feel it through her jeans.
I fight the urge to slide my fingers further beneath the fabric, brush against her clit lightly until her pussy is wet and pulsing for me again, then finger fuck her until she wakes up coming.
Withdrawing my finger, I clench my fist and take a step back, my pulse racing. I have a strict rule about consent when it comes to fucking women, and while she didn’t ask me to search her for the flash drive, she also didn’t ask me to stop when I gave her the opportunity, either.
Besides, that was business. If I touch her again, it’ll be because I want to, not because I need to. Plus, I need her conscious to stop me. Or to beg for more.
Olivia bursts in, her arms full of towels. She pauses when she sees me staring at Siena and smirks. “Into necrophilia now, are we?”
I narrow my eyes at her, stepping aside. “It’s not necrophilia if they’re still breathing, smart ass.”
Olivia sets down the pile of clean towels and pulls on some latex gloves. She opens the glass doors of the cabinets to pull the items needed for sutures.
“I need you to check her for injuries before Doc gets here.”
“Looks like you were about to do that yourself.” She sets the tray down next to Siena on a rolling metal table there for that purpose.
Her teasing grin fades when she sees the look on my face. She glances at Siena, then back at me. “I can check her over before Rossi gets here.”
“I cleaned her up, but—” My throat tightens, the words refusing to come. I exhale sharply. “Check for… anything I should know about.”
Olivia knows my past, knows what I’m really asking. “Got it,” she says softly.
“Just fucking get it done,” I snap, stepping back and crossing my arms. “If you actually called Rossi when I asked you to, he should be here any minute.”
“He’s on the way. Relax.” Olivia looks at me. “You don’t have to watch, you know.”
I glare at her and stand my ground. No way am I taking my eyes off of Siena while she’s in this state.
Olivia rolls her eyes and turns back to Siena. I know it shouldn’t, but Olivia’s kindness irritates me.
Honestly, I’m lucky that Olivia is even here. She used to spend most of her time at Aurelio’s house on the Demonio estate, but recently she’s been spending more time here at the Edge with us, cleaning, cooking, or just hanging out.
My guess is that Aurelio’s house hasn’t been very peaceful since everything went down with Mikey.
“She looks okay,” Olivia says finally, her voice careful. “But you can never be completely sure. Some guys… they know how to cover their tracks.”
Her words make me bristle, but I don’t respond. My gaze drifts back to Siena, and that irrational urge flares up, the urge to carry her somewhere far from this mess, somewhere no one can hurt her.
I shake my head. Jesus Christ. Why the fuck am I so invested in this woman?