Chapter Twenty-Five - Elise #2
At his peak, Marsollo had command over ten different cities, the most of any American crime family.
He goes on. “Scott was beating Mom, Mom was self-medicating, and Vanessa learned to stay at friends’ houses as often as possible if I couldn’t be home. One day, I came home to find that my mother was gone, along with ten grand from my stash.”
My eyes bulge at both the news of his mother’s actions and that a kid could be making that much money.
“No note, explanation, or goodbye. After she left, Scott started beating Vanessa. She did a good job hiding it from me because she knew how I’d react. Six months after Mom left, I got a panicked call from Vanessa. Scott was on a rampage, and she was scared.”
My hand, still resting on his shoulder, glides until I’m cupping his cheek. The scuff prickles my skin, and a shiver runs down my spine.
When his eyes find mine, they’re guarded, and I know why.
Joshua doesn’t open up, ever. He’s never been this vulnerable with another person, and it’s killing him to tell me these things. I want to know his story, why he is the way he is, but I don’t like seeing him like this.
“You don’t have to do this, Joshua.”
He studies me, gauging if I mean it. Though I’m sure he sees that I do, he slowly shakes his head.
“Transparency,” he whispers.
I nod, and he takes a deep breath before going on.
“By the time I got there, she was covered in blood, unconscious on the floor, and Scott was lying on the couch with a beer,” he practically spits the words. “I shot him three times in the chest without batting an eye, then got Vanessa in the car to take her to the emergency room.”
Joshua visibly struggles to find the next words.
“We were almost there when a rival gang recognized my car and ran us off the road…” He trails off, but he doesn’t need to say the words.
I know what happened next.
“Joshua, I’m so sorry.”
He doesn’t answer, probably because he realizes, just like I do, that the words are empty. Well intended but ultimately meaningless.
“I woke up the next day in the infirmary of Marsollo’s main base in L.A.
with the boss himself standing at the foot of my bed.
I’d worked for the family for roughly three years by that point, but I’d never been to the main base.
I knew who Marsollo was, but I’d never had a reason to meet him before then. ”
Joshua leans back to get a better look at my face before he says, “That’s when I learned my rightful name is Joshua Marsollo.”
My face must communicate my level of surprise because Joshua laughs. There’s genuine amusement there, and the sound is enough to make my heart do a backflip in my chest.
“I’d never given much thought to who my father was, and my mother never bothered to tell me, so I just figured he was some deadbeat.
I still have no idea if it was a relationship, an affair, or a one-time thing, but it doesn’t really matter.
All I know is that she didn’t know who Marsollo was, and by the time she figured it out, she was pregnant with me. ”
He pauses like he’s giving me a chance to say something, but absolutely no words come to mind.
Joshua laughs again, and I decide that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to get that sound out of him. It’s a deep, throaty laugh that touches parts of me that I never knew a laugh could.
“I would’ve told you this story weeks ago if I’d known that’s all it takes to make you speechless.”
I smack his bicep, ignoring the sting that reverberates up my hand as a result. “It’s a lot to take in. You can’t honestly tell me you weren’t speechless when you found out Marcus was your father?”
“I guess I was,” he admits, placing a kiss on my forehead before going on. “My mom moved to San Diego when she found out that she was pregnant, and that’s where she met Scott.”
“So, how did Marcus recognize you?”
“The soldiers I was working with the night I killed Scott had reported what happened to their capos since they had to deal with the body. When my name got to Marsollo, he recognized it as my mother’s. It wasn’t until years later that I found out that was a lie.”
“What do you mean?”
He gives me an I’ll get to that part, look and I nod.
“Marsollo didn’t offer so much as a pleasantry before telling me that as soon as the doctors cleared me, I’d begin training to take over the family.”
I’m unsure if he realizes it, but Joshua’s arm wraps itself around my waist. The motion is so effortless that I don’t think twice before relaxing into him.
“I trained with Marsollo for five years, learning everything there was to know about his empire and how to run it. When I was twenty-one, one of our raids went sideways, and Marsollo took a bullet to the gut. It was a miracle we got him out of there alive. At the same time, the FBI opened a large-scale investigation based on evidence they got from a convict looking for a reduced sentence. Marsollo was hanging on by a thread, and suddenly, all responsibility fell to me.”
Joshua’s tone is by no means upbeat, but the pained tightness from earlier is gone, and I’m glad we’ve moved to marginally easier topics.
“I took everything underground, cut all public ties, and temporarily called off any missions that could draw unwanted attention.”
I rest a hand over Joshua’s chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart as he brushes his thumb over my hip in lazy circles. Touching Joshua, having Joshua touch me, is the most natural feeling in the world, and I soak in the sensation as he continues.
“I was going through files in Marsollo’s office that would help get the feds off my back when I found one with my name on it,” he says, shaking his head.
“Pictures, doctor visit summaries, school records, and more recently, a detailed description of every job I’d worked since joining the gang when I was thirteen. He had it all.”
Joshua doesn’t need to explain the implications. Marsollo knew about him all along. With all those records, he had to have known about Scott’s abuse and Natalie’s drug problem. If Marsollo had stepped in, would Joshua’s mother have left? Would Vanessa still be alive?
“What did you do?”
“Confronted him,” he tells me. “He didn’t even deny it. I guess a deathbed is the best place for a confession.”
His eyes find mine, dark and raw with honesty. “Let’s just say I didn’t wait for Marsollo’s clock to run out naturally.”
I suppose that admission should disgust or scare me.
It doesn’t.
“Unfortunately, not everyone in the Marsollo family was thrilled with the idea of a twenty-one-year-old taking leadership, even though I was Marsollo’s blood and had more than proven myself capable.”
Joshua takes my hand and leads us to a map of the United States of America hanging between the windows.
There are colored pins across the whole surface, and he doesn’t need to explain their meaning. They stand for the bases of criminal families across the country.
Green pins stagger from Chicago and Detroit all the way to Dallas and Houston, and it goes without saying that they stand for my father’s territories.
Blue pins color the West Coast, but they aren’t the same.
A darker blue claims Sacramento and below, while a lighter blue covers the northernmost cities.
Purple and light red split the eastern side of the country between the Diaz and the Rivera families. Dots of orange throughout the map must represent smaller, neutral gangs or families that have pledged their loyalty to whatever territory they reside in.
Joshua lifts his hand to point to somewhere on the map, and the motion brings the realization that this must mean I’m in California right now.
Joshua’s finger hovers over the light blue dots covering Washington and Oregon on the map.
“Several of Marsollo’s capos didn’t want to follow me, but luckily, they weren’t the majority.
We were vulnerable between Marsollo’s death and the FBI investigation, which had been dropped but was still too public for my liking.
Normally, I would’ve shown force, but I didn’t have that option, so I offered them a deal.
They’d occupy the northern bases, and I’d have the rest of the coast. I even let them keep Marsollo’s name when one of his cousins became their boss. ”
“Everyone was just okay with you changing the family name?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t really care what they thought. Even seven years later, we’re still making our public comeback since Marsollo’s death, so it wasn’t very difficult to make the change while we were still underground.”
“You’re twenty-eight?”
He nods, an amused smile growing on those taunting lips.
I always knew Joshua was older than me, but I assumed that since he was a boss, he’d at least be in his thirties.
I step away from him, trailing slowly back to the framed photo. I study the boy there and the longer I do, the more I see Joshua in him. The twinkle of his eyes in the sun, the charming smile when he’s genuinely happy, and the love for his family that’s visible in every feature of his young face.
Joshua comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, careful to avoid putting any pressure on my back. I gently lean into him, the warmth undeniably comforting.
“Who else knows?”
I feel him shrug. “Everyone knows bits and pieces of the story. Only Ryder knows it all, and that’s just because he was there for most of it.”
“He was?”
“Put the gun in my hand the night I shot my father. We’ve been inseparable ever since,” he says, and his eyebrows pull together when his eyes bore into mine. “Until recently, that is.”
The balls of my feet pivot, and we’re chest to chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s protective of you, which makes him significantly more critical of how I handle things.”
“That makes two of us,” I mutter.
“Watch it, Princess,” he says in a husky tone that sends a thrill through my body.
We stand frozen for several moments, and I’m grateful for the time to let everything sink in. He opened up to me more than he has for anyone before, and though I know we have a long way to go, I’m strangely looking forward to what the month has to offer.
“Jay should be done with dinner by now. Join me?”
My eyes jump to the window where the sun is setting over the miles of trees. I hadn’t noticed how fast time was flying, but I shouldn’t be surprised. That’s how it always is when I’m with Joshua.
I nod, and he takes my hand, leading me through the hall. We reach the kitchen, where Jay is bustling around like a madman as he finishes the meal.
“I’ll get us food. Wait here,” Joshua tells me, brushing a lock of my hair behind my ear before he goes.
Muffled voices drift into the kitchen from the other room. As Joshua makes our plates, I peek into the living room, where Ryder and a few other guys are watching a movie I don’t recognize.
I turn to leave before they notice me but freeze in my tracks when I hear the words.
“Come on, tell me you like it,” the handsome actor purrs.
My blood runs cold.
Tell me you like it.
The words are no longer from the TV but from Tripp.
My hands shake, my chest tightens, and my vision tunnels as flashes from that night come rushing back to me.
From behind, I hear Joshua’s voice, but his words don’t register through the panic. All I can see is Tripp’s malicious sneer. All I can hear is the whoosh of the whip and my own cries. All I can feel is my back burning and the shame that threatens to swallow me whole.
It’s all coming back to me—the terror, the excruciating pain, the worthlessness.
A hand rests on my shoulder, and a wave of panic hits me so hard that I jump and scramble away from the touch.
“Elise, what the hell is going on?” I finally hear him say, but the lump in my throat makes it impossible to speak.
I force myself to turn and take in his wide, worried eyes as they assess my shivering body.
“Everyone, out.” Joshua orders.
I hadn’t even processed the other men that jumped to their feet, but they make an immediate exit at Joshua’s demand.
“What just happened?” he asks, tone thick with worry.
I’m trying to collect myself, but it’s difficult. The darkness from that day is overwhelming, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to fight it off much longer.
Grabbing a glass of water from the counter beside him, Joshua takes a cautious step toward me, carefully watching my reaction.
I don’t stop him from approaching.
When he’s about six feet away from me, he holds out the water, which I immediately take and sip. The liquid is refreshing, slowly bringing me back to reality.
He steps back, giving me more than enough space. “What just happened?”
I drop my gaze when an overwhelming sense of shame drowns me. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“I’m not mad, Elise. Just talk to me.”
“The attack,” is all I can manage to say, but I know he understands what I’m trying to say.
I wrap my arms around myself as if I can stop from falling apart this way.
He steps toward me once again, but I don’t feel the fear. In fact, it’s as though his body is calling to mine.
Right now, it’s the only place I want to be.
Surprising us both, I walk into Joshua’s open arms.