Chapter 12
Hadley
I barely dodged discussing my past with Massimo. I had never been more thankful for the interruption of someone else’s phone ringing mid-conversation in my life than when his did. Welcoming his distraction, I bolted through the house, staying as close to Amos as I could, hoping Massimo wouldn’t have a change of heart and decide to stay to talk.
A while later, Amos runs through the house, no doubt on a sugar high after devouring the cookies I sat out for us to share. Okay, I put them out for him but won’t admit that to Massimo if he asks. Considering how long he’s been gone, I don’t think I’ll have to answer for being the culprit of his son being wired and practically bouncing off the walls. Amos is a kid. He should be able to do normal kid things, even if his dad is in the Mafia. Every person deserves to enjoy life, especially the little ones.
The time I’ve spent here with Massimo, Amos, and Greta is something I will always cherish. Honestly, Emilio is starting to grow on me, too. Not that he and I see eye-to-eye all the time because he’s not one of my favorite people. Hell, he doesn’t even make the cut into the top five, but he’s quickly growing on me. Emilio’s drive to please his older brother and protect his family is something I admire, though. I don’t regret punching the bastard, but he does have redeemable qualities. Is that what a real family does for one another? —blindly follows the other simply because they share a bloodline?
Ma Carpenter was the closest I ever came to knowing what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. Even though living with her wasn’t the picturesque fairytale of a family that Hallmark sells on Daytime TV, it is the only time I felt loved… until now.
I don’t want to leave them, but Massimo doesn’t understand the price he’s asking is one that I won’t be paying. I refuse to put myself through that. I chose someone else’s death in the diner, and since then, I have made some pretty questionable decisions when it comes to keeping myself alive. But now, I’m choosing life—I’m picking self-preservation.
Staying means willfully giving breath to the darkest parts of my past, along with the memories that I buried well beyond six feet deep. I swore if I made it out alive that I would never make myself relive those nightmares. Some people drown in their volatile past, locking their mind in the nightmarish moments that stole the biggest and most important pieces of what made them who they are. But I refused to give my soul over to the pitch-black memories then, and I still do.
My heart nearly stopped when Massimo asked me to talk about my past and it still hasn’t found a comfortable rhythm yet. Am I curious about the things he wants to tell me? More than I can ever describe with words, but do I want to give him the missing pieces of the story that only I know? The answer is hell no! Nothing I remember could even be important to anyone anyway. It’s years of trauma, abuse, and neglect as I bounced around from one foster home to another, each time praying the endless cycle of hell wouldn’t repeat itself. The thing is, it always did. The people and places were different, but the knowledge of the shitty situation only being temporary never changed.
Telling Massimo that it’s nothing personal when I don’t want to talk about this subject is out of the question. Of course, he’ll take it that way. He’s, well, Massimo Casto: mafia man, dad, and brother, and quite possibly the man who will take my life. To him, everything is personal. He isn’t a man who listens to reason. He takes what he wants, or in my case, who. I asked him when he was going to kill me, and he told me killing was easy, but living was harder. I agree with that, but I think he left out the part where, in the split second in which the decision between the two is made, people don’t have the time to understand the credence of their choice. Maybe that was exactly what he was telling me. I honestly have no fucking idea.
“Hadley, do we make you happy?” Amos’ feet still as he stops in front of me.
“Huh?” I answer absentmindedly, deep in my own thoughts, and shake my head. “What do you mean?”
“Are you happy here with us?”
“Of course, I am, Amos. W-Why do you ask?” I clear my throat and force my lips into a half-smile.
“Well, earlier, in Dad’s office, you didn’t look happy, and then I heard you scream something. Does he make you sad? I don’t want you to be sad, Hadley,” he says in a small voice, wiping the corners of his mouth on his knuckles.
For the second time, this remarkable child has picked up on my feelings when I didn’t want him to. First, he asked about Emillio, and now his dad.
“Come here,” I say, reaching for him and then pulling him up on the couch beside me. I sigh, needing a minute to gather my thoughts. “Sometimes grown-ups have a tough time agreeing on things, and they don’t always get along, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love each other.” Sheesh. I want to gag on the statement as soon as it leaves my mouth, but now I know exactly why it’s used so often when trying to explain stuff to a child. To tell him I am ready to run for the fucking hills because I don’t want to talk about something seems ridiculous, so it’s kind of a safe explanation without directly lying to him.
His eyes glisten, and he clamps his lips together, right before he grins from ear to ear. “You love Dad?”
Shit! That’s what he got from that?
Fuck me.
I open my mouth to lie, glancing around the room for Greta or Emilio. We’re alone, so I decide to answer his question honestly.
“Well, yeah, I guess I do, Amos, but not as much as I love you.” I wrap my arm around his waist, and he snuggles to my side.
“Hadley?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re the best Christmas present,” he admits, looking up at me through his thick lashes. The guilt that plummets into my stomach feels like it outweighs everything else on this earth. I swallow hard. I might want to bolt away from the promised conversation with Massimo, and yes, I do actually want to get back to work, but how can I leave after that? Only a heartless asshole would walk away… so maybe I won’t be choosing self-preservation after all.
I still plan to get him his damned sled, though. Perhaps it will lessen the blow if something happens to me.
Amos yawns and stretches, straightening his legs out on the couch. He then rests his head on my lap while he curls into a tiny ball, the kind that only kids seem to be able to pull off and still be cute. When an adult does it, it just doesn’t seem as pure. Maybe because when an adult lays like that, people refer to it as the fetal position. Most of the elements of cuteness kind of melt away when I hear it called that.
I peek around the vast room once more, double-checking to make sure we’re still alone.
“Amos?”
“Uh huh?” he mumbles without lifting his head, his eyes transfixed on the enormous, decorated pine in the distance.
My eyes lift from him to the breathtaking Christmas tree as I speak, “Can it be our little secret about me loving your dad?”
“Oh, and all the extra cookies?” I add since we’re on the topic of secret keeping.
“Mmhm. I can do that, Hadley. But you should tell him, and then you can be his best present, too,” Amos states in a small sleepy voice.
I gulp back the tears threatening to break free as my heart silently shatters inside my chest.
“Amos?” I whisper. I can’t let him see me fall apart. He doesn’t answer. Instead, a soft snore is his reply. I manage to keep my breathing somewhat even for a few more minutes until I’m absolutely sure Amos is asleep, and then I break along with my heart. A silent sob finds its way out of my lips, and I cover my mouth with my hand. I know what I need to do, but I’m not sure if I have the strength to do it.
I have no fucking clue what I’m going to do.
Massimo
“Cazzo! Merda! Accideti!” I bark, walking into the shed as soon as my eyes land on the bastard hanging from the chain that binds his wrists together. It’s the same scene as the last time Big John called me to come out here. Without looking at his face, I know his tongue has been removed.
“Why the fuck did I need to be here to see this? His tongue is cut out, right?”
“Yes. Adam hasn’t found the link yet, but they’re from the same crew. I know it.”
“Tell me something we don’t know, stupido, ” I snarl, my patience already unbelievably thin from having to leave Hadley so abruptly. We have to talk as soon as I get back. If I can’t trust my men to get me the answers I want, and they clearly have nothing new, then Hadley is going to give me some. I take a deep breath. The information she has might not be any more damn useful than what my men can give me, but I’ll be the one to make that decision.
“He has pictures of her. Lots of them,” Big John admits in a deep voice.
Pure blind rage rips through me and my heart thunders within my chest. “Get him down. Now.”
“Boss, he can’t talk—”
“I said get that fucking worthless piece of skin off my chains!” I yell, cutting him off. “I don’t give a shit if he can speak or whistle fucking Dixie! Get his knees on the damned floor!”
My eyes land on the shears that were flung to the side after I used them the last time, dried blood on the blades from the previous asshole. I grab them and rip them open while my men follow my orders. It takes a short time, but then the man is in front of me.
The son of a bitch’s head lunges forward when his legs bend against the floor.
“She is mine,” I growl, not taking the time to look at the proof of what Big John told me. There will be time for that when this is over. Right now, though, I’m putting an end to this sack of shit’s life.
The whites of his eyes widen when I kick my leg out just in time to connect with the left side of his face. Blood spatters onto my leather shoe on impact, and the man grunts in pain. I catch his head, immediately fisting his dark hair, yanking him back up before he smacks the floor. I ram the shears as hard as I can through the soft spot right behind his chin, and he lets out a high-pitched squeal. A sea of red pours down the blades and handles, making its way onto my hands. His body goes limp, but I’m not finished with him yet. Wedging my knee up on his chest to support his weight, I yank at the handles, loosening the blades from his flesh and push forward with all of my force. His body tumbles backward with me on top of him. Blood drenches my white shirt and decorates my face.
I climb off his motionless body and get to my feet. I spit on his body. “Maledetta sanguisuga!” I cuss, walking away from him, leaving a trail of bloody shoe prints behind me.
Big John follows me out a few minutes later. “I know we don’t usually do this…”
“So don’t,” the words rip out of me in an immediate response.
“Yeah. Ok. But what happened in there wasn’t the normal—”
“Normal what, John? Normal way I kill someone? Since when does my killing have a code of fucking conduct?” I glare at him, my chest rising and falling with the hatred still inside me. I don’t give a shit if I have to kill every last one of these men coming after Hadley with my bare hands. I will.
A smirk pulls at his lips. “Killing having a code of fucking conduct…” he mumbles to himself with a shake of his head. “What I meant was that wasn’t the norm—”
I stare at him, daring him to finish his statement.
“Revenge wasn’t the only thing on your mind in there.”
“Fine. Enlighten me, John. What was on my mind other than revenge and protecting what’s mine? Tell me how that is fucking different than any other time.” I take a step toward him, balling my bloody hands into fists.
“You said it yourself, Boss. You were protecting what is yours . It’s clear as fucking water that leech isn’t our only problem. Hadley is.”
“How the fuck do you figure that?”
“Because, Massimo, you love her. You won’t be able to stop yourself from protecting her, not even if it means sacrificing yourself and the rest of us along with you. And that’s a big fucking problem, considering she had a target on her back before you found her.”
I want to argue with him, but the words don’t come out right away.
“ Cazzo, when the time comes to protect what’s mine, I’ll make the right decision. I always do. ”
That was a lie, and I knew it even before the words left my lips. Time after time since meeting Hadley, I’ve gone against my own natural instinct, and the longer I’m with her it only makes matters worse in the judgment department.
“Not entirely.”
“Give me an hour.” I say, tasting blood on my lip and spitting it onto the ground.
“Yeah, I’ll check with Adam again to see if he has anything new to report.”
“Good. Call me when this shit is in line and only then.” I state, hopping into my truck.
Stepping into the house with Big John’s declaration on my mind, I search for Hadley. I need answers from her, and she’s going to give them to me today. Not tomorrow. Not three Sundays from today. Hadley and I are sorting things out today.
I only hope Amos is asleep; otherwise, I’ll be explaining why my shirt that used to be white is now red. Not that he hasn’t seen me in worse shape, but when I can, I shield him from the darker parts of my life.
“Where are they?” I question Greta when her eyes meet mine.
“Amos is in his bed, and Hadley is in yours.” Her lips purse while she gives me a knowing look as her eyes take in my state.
“Thank you,” I reply, heading to my room.
“Hadley,” I call into the room, closing the door behind me. The bathroom light is the only one on, but I can make out her lying on my bed. She’s wearing one of my button-ups and nothing else. Fuck.
“I’ve thought about it,” she speaks as she rolls in the direction of where I stand, gasping when she fully faces me. “Holy shit! Are you hurt?” Hadley jumps to her feet, and her hands are running all over my body before I can answer.
My fingers wrap around her wrists, freezing them in place against her tits. “I’m fine.” I’m too exhausted to give her any type of explanation right now.
My hardened heart softens instantly. We really are in a fucked-up situation. I kidnapped her. Her first question shouldn’t be about my well-being when I’m drenched in blood, but it is. In this moment, I wonder if Big John is right. Would I let the Uccello family, along with my own, die for her? The answer is a complicated one. I will always protect Amos; he has always been my number one. My second in the line of protection should be me, but I know it no longer is. The person I will die for wiggles her hand free and slugs me in my chest.
“Asshole! I thought you were going to drop dead right here, and I would have to fight Emilio to see Amos,” she huffs.
“You would do that?” I ask her, unable to hide the shock in my voice.
“Well, yeah. I would. I know he’s Amos’ zio , but he’s a fucking blockhead when it comes to kids. Not that I claim to know more than he does, but I do love Amos, Massimo. It’s weird, and I know I shouldn’t, but I do.” She shrugs and blows out a big breath.
“I love that you love him,” I admit truthfully, unable to stop myself from taking her lips with mine. She moans against my mouth, and then her tongue glides along the tip of my own. My fingers greedily roam down her body, hooking around her plump ass cheeks, lifting, and carrying her back to the bed.
The pristine, white button-up she has on is now smeared with blood, and this sight would concern anyone in this world. That is everyone apart from me. To me, Hadley is the queen of my damned. She is my addiction that I’ll do anything to have.
I rip the shirt from her body. She shivers with anticipation, spreading her legs open for me. I climb between her knees, running my tongue up her thigh, and kiss the sweet, sensitive spot that makes her groan in pleasure. I’m going to send her off the tracks of this fucked-up train ride we’re on, and I am not stopping until we’re both wrecked. When there is no right answer, you have no other choice than to choose one of the wrong options. I didn’t get to where I am by playing it safe, and right now, Hadley is the most dangerous, best fucking wrong answer to my problems.
Watching me through her thick dark lashes, she scoots backward when my tongue slips up her clit. “Massimo?”
“Hmm?” I lean forward to murmur against her, causing her to squirm.
“I’m ready to talk.”
I lift my head. Maybe I didn’t hear her correctly. Now? Right fucking now, she wants to talk. I’ve been trying to get this woman to talk to me, and when I mentioned it earlier, she shut me down. “And I want to fuck.”
“I want both,” she responds, and my dick stiffens even more.
“I’m listening,” I speak against her clit as soon as I’m back in position. Her fingers lace with mine, guiding them up to her mound, blocking my mouth.
“You have until I come,” she purrs.