Chapter Twenty-Six #2
Rory, who brought extra feed when shipments were late.
Rory, who knew which horses hated men and which goats could pick a latch.
Rory. Whom I trusted.
“Hey, Mia,” he says softly.
Like I woke up on his couch after falling asleep during a movie.
Like my wrists aren’t tied.
Like my daughter isn’t hurt.
Like Stefano isn’t bleeding somewhere because of him.
Livy moves closer to me.
My body reacts before my mind catches up. I shift in front of her as much as the ropes allow.
“What did you do?” I whisper.
His face tightens.
“I know this looks bad.”
A laugh breaks out of me.
Sharp.
Ugly.
Terrified.
“Looks bad?”
“Mia—”
“You shot Stefano.”
“He saw me.”
The words are so simple.
So calm.
Like that explains it.
Like shooting a man because he recognized you is reasonable.
“You shot him,” I say again.
Rory’s jaw flexes. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
His eyes flick to Livy, then back to me.
“I didn’t want her to see that.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have shot him in front of her. Or, you know, at all!”
Livy’s hand finds my shoulder and curls into my shirt.
Rory takes another step down.
I notice the bandages then.
Both his forearms are wrapped from wrist to elbow, thick white gauze peeking beneath his sleeves.
The edges are stained yellow-brown in places. But what sticks out to me is the spot near his elbow where the bandage has slipped. Something mesh-looking covers the skin.
A skin graft. Over burned skin.
No… Way…
“What happened to your arms?” I ask slowly.
He looks down like he forgot they were there.
Then his expression softens.
“That night got messy.”
My mouth goes dry.
“What night?”
“You know what night.”
The basement seems to tilt.
The fire.
Smoke.
Barns burning.
Billie.
Livy trapped in the house.
Maverick holding me back while I screamed.
“You set the fire,” I whisper.
Rory’s face pinches. “I did it for you.”
Livy makes a tiny sound beside me.
I can’t breathe.
“You set my sanctuary on fire.”
“I needed you to come to me.”
“You killed Billie.”
His eyes flash. “Billie wasn’t supposed to be there. She was supposed to be picked up earlier that day.”
“They rescheduled,” I practically scream. “She was locked in her enclosure.”
“I know.” He drags a hand through his hair, wincing. “I know that now. I tried to plan it so the animals would get out. I thought you’d be in the barns. I thought Livy was with you. I thought you’d save what you could, and then you’d finally understand that place was gone.”
My vision blurs.
“You almost killed my daughter.”
“I didn’t know she was in the house.”
“So that makes it better?”
“No.” His voice cracks. “No, of course not. I never wanted Livy hurt.”
“But you did hurt her.”
“I used a different accelerant for the house,” he says, talking faster now. “It was supposed to burn fast. Too fast for anyone to go back inside. I spilled some when I was setting it. That’s what this is. Chemical burns.” He nods to his bandaged arms. “I made a mistake.”
“A mistake?”
“I panicked.”
“A mistake is ordering the wrong feed. A mistake is forgetting to lock a gate.” My voice shakes, but I don’t stop. “You burned down my sanctuary. You killed animals. You almost killed my child.”
His face hardens. “Because you wouldn’t leave.”
“I loved that place.”
“I loved you.”
The words hit the floor between us.
“I have loved you for years,” he says. “I was there when nobody else was. I stayed even after Livy’s dad left.
I stayed late every evening. I came early every morning.
I fixed everything you asked me to fix. I watched Livy grow up.
I knew her favorite snacks. I knew when you were tired before you admitted it. ”
I stare at him.
Horrified.
He smiles a little, like those memories are sweet instead of terrifying now.
“I waited for you to see it,” he says. “I waited because I knew you’d realize eventually. We were already a family, Mia. You just couldn’t see it yet.”
“No.”
His smile fades.
“No?” he repeats.
“You were my friend.”
The word changes his face.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Rory, listen to me.” I try to keep my voice steady, but my fingers are starting to ache badly now. Sharp, biting pain crawling from the tips down into my hands. “You were my friend. My employee. Someone I trusted. But I never loved you like that.”
His eyes go flat.
“You’re confused.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re scared.”
“Yes,” I say. “I am scared. Because you kidnapped me and my daughter, tied me up in a basement, shot a man I care about, and confessed to burning down my sanctuary.”
He flinches like my words offend him.
“You’re already rebuilding it,” he says like it matters. “It’s gonna be so much better. We can run it together as a family. Burning the old one down was a good thing. You’re making everything sound ugly.”
“It is ugly.”
“No.” He steps closer. “What’s ugly is him. Maverick. The Don with blood on his hands. You think he loves you? You think men like that love women like you?”
“He does love me.”
Rory laughs bitterly.
“No. He wants to own you.”
“Then you don’t know him.”
“I know exactly what he is.”
“No, you know what you need him to be so you don’t have to face what you are.”
His face twists.
Livy whispers, “Mama.”
I should stop.
I know I should stop.
But something in me has gone past fear.
Maybe it’s the cold.
Maybe it’s the pain in my hands and the scary numbness in my toes.
Maybe it’s the fact that my daughter is hurt beside me and my friend turned out to be the monster who burned down my whole life.
“I don’t love you, Rory,” I say. “I never did. I’m with Maverick. We’re starting our life together, and nothing you do down here changes that.”
His breathing turns rough.
“Stop.”
“No.”
“Mia.”
“You need help. You need to let us go and turn yourself in before this gets worse.”
His eyes flick to Livy, where she’s standing beside me.
The second he looks at her, every instinct I have screams.
“Don’t,” I warn.
Livy lifts her chin, even though she’s shaking.
“My daddy is gonna find us.”
Rory takes a few steps forward, and his hand moves before I can process what he’s planning.
The slap cracks through the basement.
Livy’s head snaps to the side.
For one second, the whole world stops.
Then I scream.
“How dare you!”
Livy stumbles back, one hand pressed to her cheek, eyes wide with shock.
Rory freezes.
Like he didn’t mean to do it.
Like his own hand surprised him.
“Oh, Livy,” he says. “I didn’t mean to, honey. I’m so sorry.”
Livy stares at him with her hand pressed to her cheek.
She doesn’t cry.
Her eyes are too wide. Too shocked.
My body moves before my brain catches up.
The ropes bite into my wrists as I try to stand, but my feet won’t hold me.
“Don’t touch her,” I scream from where I fell back to the cold floor. “Don’t you ever touch her again.”
Rory turns toward me, guilt twisting his face.
“Mia, I didn’t mean to hit her.”
“That was a mistake.”
The voice comes from above us.
Low, calm, and very pissed off.
Rory freezes.
So do I.
For one impossible second, the whole basement goes silent.
Even Livy stops breathing.
Then I look toward the stairs.
Maverick stands at the top, still as stone.
One hand resting on the railing.
A gun held loosely in the other.
He isn’t rushing.
He isn’t shouting.
He isn’t breathing hard.
His eyes are on Livy’s face.
On the red mark blooming across her cheek.
Then they move to me.
To the ropes around my wrists.
To my pale fingers curled uselessly in my lap.
To the concrete floor.
To Rory.
“Maverick,” Rory whispers.
Maverick starts down the stairs.
One step, then another.
His boots make almost no sound, which is saying something considering the size of the man wearing them.
“You injured my family by running them off the road.”
Rory backs up.
“Maverick, listen.”
“You shot my brother.”
Another step.
“You stole my girls.”
Rory lifts his hands. “I didn’t steal them. I was protecting them.”
“And then,” Maverick says, his voice dropping softer, “you hit my daughter.”
Livy makes a tiny broken sound.
Maverick’s jaw flexes once.
Only once.
But Rory sees it.
So do I.
“Daddy,” Livy whispers.
His eyes flick to her.
For the first time, something cracks through the cold.
Pain.
Love.
Fear so deep it looks like rage.
“I’m here, piccola.”
Rory’s face twists. “She isn’t yours.”
Maverick stops on the last step.
His eyes return to Rory.
“She is.”
Two words.
No argument.
No explanation.
Just fact.
Rory’s hands shake. “You don’t understand. I love them. I’ve always loved them. I was there before you. I knew them before you even looked at her.”
“You knew them,” Maverick says, stepping off the stairs, “and still hurt them.”
“I didn’t want them hurt.”
“You know about Amelia’s condition.”
Rory’s eyes flick to mine.
“You know what cold does to her body, and you left her tied on concrete in a basement.”
“She would have been fine.”
Maverick tilts his head.
The movement is small.
Almost curious.
Then he smiles a smile so merciless that I feel it to my very core.
“I hope you can handle pain, Rory.”
Rory swallows.
“But just in case, I’m going to introduce you to it slowly.”
“Listen, man.”
“I’m going to take my time.”
His voice is so quiet now that I can barely hear it.
But every word lands like a blade.
“You won’t die tonight. You won’t die tomorrow. Your death will be earned one breath at a time, and before it comes, you will beg me to let you die…But I won’t.”
Rory lunges.
Maybe for me.
Maybe for Livy.
Maybe for the stairs.
He never makes it two steps.
Maverick moves so fast that my brain can’t process it.
One second he’s standing in front of the stairs, and the next he has Rory by the throat and slams him into the support post hard enough to shake dust loose from the ceiling.
Rory’s head cracks against the wood.
Livy gasps.
I pull her behind me as much as I can.
Maverick doesn’t look away from Rory.
“Close your eyes, piccola,” he says. “Hands over your ears and sing a song loud enough that Uncle Steffy can hear it at the hospital.”
“He’s alive?” she gasps, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.