Chapter Twenty-Six #3
“Yes, baby,” he says. “He’s alive, and he can’t wait to see you. Now do as I ask. Close your eyes, cover your ears, and sing.”
“He’s alive, Mama,” she says, like she needs me to hear it too.
“I know, honey.” My voice breaks. “Come here and let me cover your ears, since your arm is probably broken.”
Livy scoots between my legs, careful and shaking. When I lift my still roped hands to cover her ears, pain shoots through my fingers so sharply I almost cry out.
Maverick goes still.
“Her arm is broken?”
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “But she hasn’t moved it from against her chest.”
His eyes move to Livy and notices the way she holds her arm.
To the bruise on her cheek.
To my white fingers pressed against her ears.
Then his attention turns back to Rory.
“Hold her ears tightly, bella.”
Livy starts singing loudly.
Some song from one of her cartoons, the words jumbled from fear and tears, but she sings anyway because her daddy told her to.
And because Uncle Steffy is alive.
Maverick steps closer to Rory, where he’s trying to drag himself away on the floor.
“I was going to break your hand for hitting my daughter across the face,” he says.
“Maverick, please.”
“But the fact that you broke a part of her body means I’m going to break all of yours.”
Rory shakes his head hard. “No. No, I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
Maverick lowers himself into a crouch beside him.
“Starting with your fingers.”
Rory sobs.
Maverick reaches for his hand.
“Close your eyes, baby,” Maverick says. “You don’t need to see this.”
“Any other time you ask me to look away, I will,” I tell him, speaking over Livy’s trembling song. “But not this time.”
He nods, then turns back to Rory.
Rory tries to yank his hand away, but Maverick catches it easily.
“No,” Rory whimpers. “Mia, tell him to stop. Please. I love you.”
I tighten my hands over Livy’s ear.
“You don’t love me,” I say. “You have no idea what love is.”
Rory’s face twists.
Maverick’s hand closes around his first finger.
The snap is small.
Sharp.
Horrible.
Rory screams beneath Livy’s singing.
Maverick moves to the next finger.
“Maverick,” Rory sobs. “Please.”
“You ran them off the road.”
Snap.
Rory howls, bucking against the concrete.
“You shot my brother.”
Snap.
“You tied Amelia in a freezing basement.”
Snap.
“You took them from me.”
Snap.
Rory’s screams turn wet and broken, his hand ruined against the floor.
Maverick leans closer, voice low and steady.
“And you struck my daughter.”
For one second, everything stops.
Even Rory seems to understand that this is the part Maverick cannot step around.
The part that takes up most of his anger.
Maverick takes Rory’s thumb.
Rory starts crying harder.
“Please,” he gasps. “Please, don’t.”
Maverick’s face remains empty.
“You don’t fuck with my family and live to tell the tale.”
The final crack echoes through the basement.
Rory collapses sideways, sobbing into the concrete.
Livy’s song wobbles but keeps going.
Good girl.
Brave girl.
Maverick stands slowly.
For a second, he simply looks down at Rory.
There’s no satisfaction on his face.
No joy.
No release.
Only promise.
“This is not your punishment,” he says. “I have so much more planned for you.”
Rory curls around his broken hand, shaking violently.
Footsteps thunder above us.
Spike appears at the top of the stairs with his gun drawn and takes in the room.
Rory on the floor. Livy tucked between my legs, singing through tears while I cover her ears.
Maverick standing over him with blood on his knuckles and death in his eyes.
“How the hell did you get here so fast?” Spike mutters.
“Take him to Patch’s and put him with Victor. The twins will be by to collect them tomorrow.”
Spike comes down the stairs, followed by two men I’ve never met.
Rory tries to crawl away, but Spike plants one boot between his shoulder blades and presses him flat to the concrete while the two men get in position to somehow pick him up and drag him kicking and screaming up the steps.
Maverick turns away like the sound means nothing and comes back to us.
The second he kneels in front of Livy, the monster vanishes, and the man who loves her gently caresses the hot spot on her face.
I lower my hands and tuck them under the thin blanket.
“You can stop singing now, piccola.”
Her song breaks into a sob.
“Daddy.”
“I’m here.” His voice is rough now. “I’m here, baby.”
“Uncle Steffy’s really alive?”
“Yes.”
“You promise?”
His face tightens.
“I promise.”
She reaches for him with her good arm.
He gathers her carefully, so careful with the arm she holds against herself, so gentle I almost break apart watching it.
“I knew you were coming,” she cries into his shirt.
Maverick closes his eyes and presses his mouth to her hair.
“Always.”
Then his eyes open and find mine.
The rage is still there.
I think it always will be.
But beneath it is something worse.
Fear.
The kind that almost killed him before he ever made it down these stairs.
“Bella,” he whispers.
“I’m okay.”
His gaze drops to my hidden hands.
“No,” he says softly. “You’re not.”
I try to smile.
It doesn’t work.
“Livy first.”
His jaw flexes.
Then he nods once, because he knows I need him to agree.
“Livy first,” he says. “Then you. Then Stefano.”
“And Rory?”
Maverick’s eyes don’t leave mine.
“Rory belongs to me now.”
“Uncle Spike can carry me,” Livy says. “Right?”
Spike’s face softens in a way most people would never believe possible.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
Reluctantly, Maverick releases her with a kiss to the top of her head.
“Careful,” he warns his friend.
Spike gives him a look. “Always.”
Livy reaches for him, but before Spike lifts her, she looks back at Maverick.
“Daddy.”
I watch in awe as Maverick closes his eyes.
Just for a second.
Like he has to hold still so the word can settle somewhere deep enough that no one can ever take it from him.
When he opens them again, they shine.
“Yes, piccola?”
“Mama won’t be able to walk,” she says. “Her fingers have no more color, and her nose is pale. That means her toes are worse. Her toes are always worse. Which means her feet won’t work.”
She’s not wrong.
I can’t feel my toes at all.
Which means if I try to stand, I’ll fall just like before.
Maverick’s eyes move over me carefully.
“Thank you for telling me,” he says softly. “I’ll take care of your mama.”
Livy nods, satisfied with that answer, then lets Spike lift her carefully into his arms.
She tucks her injured arm against her chest and rests her cheek against his shoulder.
“Rory’s up there. You won’t let him come near us, will you?” she whispers. “He’s not my friend anymore.”
Spike’s expression goes dark.
“You won’t even see him, sweetheart.”
The second we’re alone, the mask falls.
Not his.
Mine.
The strength I held together for Livy shatters so quickly I can’t stop it.
Tears spill down my face.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
Maverick goes still.
Then he’s on his knees in front of me again.
“Bella.”
“It’s my fault.” The words rush out before I can swallow them. “A friend called and asked for help. I left the estate. I pushed Stefano when he said it wasn’t a good idea. I didn’t know Livy hid in the car, but she did, and I should have known. I should have checked. I should have—”
“Amelia.”
“It’s my fault everything happened.” My voice breaks hard enough to hurt. “It’s my fault Livy got hurt. It’s my fault your brother got shot.”
His face changes. I see the pain in his eyes.
“He must hate me,” I whisper.
Maverick catches my face between his hands.
Even with blood on his knuckles and death still waiting behind his eyes, he touches me like I’m something precious.
“Listen to me.”
I shake my head. “Maverick.”
“No. Listen to me.”
His voice is quiet, but there’s no room to disobey it.
“Stefano doesn’t hate you. He loves you and is very worried about you.”
A sob catches in my throat.
“He almost died because of me.”
“Rory was most likely watching the estate and waiting for you to leave. Stefano was shot trying to protect you. It’s not your fault. You didn’t pull that trigger.”
“But I left.”
“You were not wrong to help.”
“I took Livy out of the estate.”
His thumb brushes beneath my eye. “She snuck into the car because she is stubborn, brave, and has apparently learned terrible habits from every adult in our family.”
A broken laugh slips through my tears.
It hurts.
Everything hurts.
Maverick leans closer.
“Stefano chose to go with you because that is who he is. He protects what he loves. He protected you. He protected Olivia. And if you try to apologize to him for that, he will be deeply offended and probably dramatic enough to need a second hospital stay.”
I cover my mouth with one shaking hand.
My fingers burn when they bend.
Maverick notices immediately.
“Oh, baby,” he says, reaching for my hand.
I shake my head, lowering my hands.
“I can’t feel my toes,” I admit. “And if you try to warm my fingers too fast, it’s going to hurt terribly.”
His face tightens, but he simply unties the rope and easily pulls it away.
“I’m so cold,” I whisper.
“I know, baby.”
Then he reaches for me.
“I’m going to lift you.”
“Okay.”
“It may hurt.”
“I know.”
His jaw flexes.
“Did you get injured when he hit the car?” he asks.
“I don’t think so,” I say.
Nodding, he slides one arm behind my back and the other beneath my knees, then gathers me against his chest.
The moment his warmth surrounds me, another sob tears loose.
I bury my face in his neck.
“I was so scared.”
His arms tighten.
“I know.”
“I thought he killed Stefano.”
“He didn’t.”
“I thought he was going to take Livy from me.”
“He won’t.”
“I thought you wouldn’t find us.”
Maverick stops breathing for half a second.
Then his mouth presses to my temple.
“I will always find you.”
The words break whatever is left of me.
I cry against him as he carries me toward the stairs.
I cry because Livy is alive.
Because Stefano is alive.
Because Maverick came.
Because my friend was never my friend.
Because my body is finally safe enough to fall apart.
At the top step, Maverick pauses.
His voice lowers.
“Look at me, bella.”
I force my eyes open.