9. Bay
NINE
bay
I took a shower.
Cleaned the day off me, yet I still feel the murky and sticky remnants of the events to come and the emptiness that won’t leave my gut. The years, and the rest of my life, I’ll have to go on without Levi at my side.
The image is as daunting as it is heartbreaking. I feel nothing but hollow inside. Whenever my brain goes to the future, I can’t seem to pull my adult responsibilities to the forefront and act like a normal human being.
All signs point to Matteo’s death.
Not Ellie and Mae and how this is going to change their lives, too. How they are forever going to be as traumatized as me because Levi was such a strong and constant presence in our lives.
No, slaughtering is Matteo first and foremost before I allow myself to go down that rabbit hole.
It’ll never end if I don’t.
He will always be there to torture me in some way, shape, or form, and next on his list, will be my sisters.
The only family I have left.
The moment I enter the kitchen, I see Cairo leaning up against the counter and Ozzy chilling with his juice box in front of the kitchen island.
It’s an ambush if I’ve ever seen one.
And not a very good one at that.
At least Levi used to use his voice and scare the shit out of me first. These two give me a head-start on mapping out what I’m going to say and how I’m going to get what I want.
“Well…” I begin the moment my feet hit the hardwood. “Go ahead.”
“With?” Cairo crosses his arms along his black tee like a parental unit trying to get me to admit I fucked up.
Been there, done that.
Too old for it now.
“I’m ready for you to bitch at me,” I pose evenly. “I left the house against your wishes. I stole a car. I shot and killed a bitch. Now, here we are.”
He stares at me like I’m so moronic he can barely be in the same room as me.
I wouldn’t want to be either.
I did exactly what he told me not to do and his words, the things he asked of me, I threw those things out the window—with me along with it—when I went looking for Levi.
“If you’re good, I’m leaving.”
“Think again.”
Don’t need to.
My feet start for the front door, going to walk my unhappy ass the hell out of here. “Well, if you’re not going to wrap your hands around my neck and squeeze, I’m going to take off while I have the chance.”
“I think Oz would have something else to say about that.”
The mention of Oz has me flicking my attention over to him as I pass, and he’s blatantly staring at me.
And blatantly says nothing.
“Looks like I’m good to go.”
“Where?”
I’m about to say his mom’s house, but I decide against it. There’s no point in taunting him more than I already have. He’s already pissed off, and I’m not stable.
It doesn’t serve as a good scenario right now.
“I’m going to the garage,” I reply simply. “Then I’m meeting Juice and the girls.”
“One of us will go with you.”
“For?”
“Protection.”
I toss a thumb over my shoulder. “I have about a dozen of The Nameless outside. I think I’m fine.”
Cairo lifts his shoulders. “Don’t know them. Don’t care.” Fuck this guy. I move for the door when his words discharge across the room. “Take another inch toward that door, and I’ll have your ass, Little T.”
Bet.
My feet still amble toward said exit and into the small foyer littered with every kind of shoe you can imagine. Then I’m suddenly whipped around with my spine pushed possessively against the door, with no one other than Cairo immediately in my space.
All those dark elements that make up his face work in his favor, reminding me he didn’t like me before, and he could quickly go back to that again.
He should.
Cairo’s not here to fuck around with another bitch who gives zero shits about how he feels or not. I know he has more than enough other things to do than babysit me.
“The fuck did I say?” he sneers through a locked jaw. “You either really need your ears checked or to relearn the English language properly. I didn’t stutter.”
“I’m going to get my sisters ,” I clip back through clenched teeth. “Are you deaf?”
“Wrong brother.”
Touché.
I exhale heavily because this whole conversation is already worthless and taxing. “What did you want to do, Sinatra? Have a stare-off contest? Because last time I checked, this wasn’t your town. This isn’t your house. I’m not your girl. You don’t run this show.”
“I do when you’re pregnant.”
I scoff. This shit again. “I’m not pregnant. I told you?—”
“Prove it,” he challenges. “Quit being a bitch and take the damn pregnancy test I put on your bedside table.” I press my lips together because we’re just going back and forth. I’m tired and sick of going back and forth with this dipshit. “Denial is the first step—” I begin to slither my way out from between him and the surface of the door, but Cairo seizes my hip and squeezes at the flesh there, demanding I hear this out. “What’s it gonna take, Bay, huh? Do you need me to force you? Do you need the reality check shoved in your face for you to chill out because trust me…I’ve got no problem doing that.”
I raise my chin higher, making sure he sees the seriousness in my expression and how insane he’s fucking being. “If you think?—”
“I know .”
A mirthless scoff freely escapes my lips because, of course, he does. He’s Cairo Black, King of Wharf Bay and, apparently, that comes with superpowers. “Damn, did getting king status give you the ability to know everything?”
“Bay…”
“Is it a boy or girl?”
“Quit being an asshole.”
“Quit being in denial . You think because we fucked you now hold some power over me?” My eyes slit to deter any confirmation. “You must not have read the fine print, Sinatra, so let me give it to you straight. I’m not your bitch, nor do I want to be. There’s only one man who could bend me to his will and get me to play nice, and you’re not fucking him.”
I don’t understand why I expect some sort of hurt or realization to cross Cairo’s face but none does.
His poker face is good, I’ll give him props for that.
Plus, I pushed the buttons of the wrong dude. Torin would’ve lost his entire shit.
Cairo’s too big of a person to fall into that trap.
“Obviously not a very good job,” he finally imparts, ticking several nerves in my head. “Because you crossed over. You fell in love. You played into the little obsession and look where you are. You’re married to one of us, you fell deeply enamored by another, you almost got killed by the next…and me…” He bends over, the smell of mint and spices evading my nostrils against my will. “You’re fuckin’ owned, Bay. Whether you like that shit, hate that shit, demand release from that shit, or want out of that shit, you’re mine. Whether that’s something you can live with is a personal problem. But I will keep my investment in you intact. And that means you’re not going to go run off again and betray my trust again. ”
My jaw begins to ache from how hard I’m clenching the damn thing. “I don’t want it.”
“It’s either that or I make you earn it. On your fucking knees like a good little girl.”
This motherfucker…
It takes everything in me not to raise my leg and clobber him in the balls.
“You got it fucked up if you’ve convinced yourself I want you like that,” I say evenly. “That I’m going to sit here like a damsel in distress while you fuckers handle it for me. Levi is my problem. He’s mine .”
Thick fingers suddenly wrap around my jaw and press tightly into my cheeks, causing my teeth to rub off the soft flesh inside my mouth. “So fucking cute, Bay…how you’ve twisted this all in your head. I got more cards than you. I have more avenues and ways of making you stay out of trouble. You think because you’re pissed that you get to shove me away? That I’m just gonna allow you to go on a suicide mission with one of my brothers’ baby in your stomach?”
I shove at his hand but to no avail, causing more frustration to cover my impending scream that wants to rip from my throat.
But that’s the bitch way out.
“We done here?”
Cairo doesn’t remove his hand, nor the fixed look on his face. “Get in that room, Bay.”
“No.”
“I will throw you over my shoulder, slap that ass, and fuck you into remembering what you gave me and what I expect in return.”
“That was your first mistake. You expecting shit from me.”
“Bay, I will make sure De Leon is delivered to you on a silver platter with an apple in his mouth. Just stop this.”
The desperation in his tone hits me in the chest and slowly seeps into the rational part of my brain that agrees. Nothing I’m doing right now is helping. My remorse and sorrow are narrowed-minded and homed in on somebody.
The only body.
The one I’m personally going to rip apart until I can’t see or feel anymore.
“Don’t worry, Sinatra,” I mutter. “All is fair in love and war, and I don’t expect to go down without Matteo dead first.”
“You seem so fucking sure of that,” he whispers. “Why don’t you let me into that pretty head of yours so I know what you plan on doing.”
“Nothing set in stone yet.” I reach up for his face, drawing my thumb across the rough stubble of his cheek. “But I’ll let you know.”
“That’s a lie.”
“And if it’s not?”
His brown eyes darken. “Then you’ll wish you’d never been born by the time I’m done with you.”
I smile at him, but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes. “I already do.”