Chapter Nine
Vince
I imagined Mia and I would talk a lot more during this long-ass car ride, but I also imagined she would piss me off a lot less. I’m not sure why, now that I think about it. I remember now that she used to piss me off all the time, but always because of Mateo. I thought with him not around, it would be smoother sailing.
He’s still around though. The bastard isn’t even here, and she still manages to annoy me with him. The worst part is, once I stop being so pissed off at her, I feel bad. I didn’t mean to push her into the display back at the gas station. I didn’t think, I just reacted, but that’s exactly the sort of shit that pushed her away before. And now it’s not even a matter of pushing her away—I don’t have her. Maybe she’s sitting here in this car with me, but she’s not present. It drives me fucking crazy when she does that. I want to know what she’s sitting over there thinking about, but I know it’s probably him, so I don’t ask.
I tell myself it won’t be like this once we get home. The car ride was bound to be tense. She didn’t want to come with me, after all.
“You never thought about leaving him?”
I don’t know why I ask that. I regret the question as soon as it’s out, but she glances my way, guarded but bored enough to answer.
“No,” she says. “It wasn’t an option anyway, but… I didn’t want to.”
“How long did you think I was dead?”
“A little over a month. It felt like a lot longer, but it was about a month.”
It’s weird to think about. I mean, I’ve thought about it a lot over the years, since Mateo made it clear that night when he brought Adrian in that he was going to tell Mia I was dead, that it would be in my best interest to stay dead, because if I ever resurfaced in Chicago, I would be.
I didn’t even want to go, though. It was exactly what I’d wanted all my life, but I didn’t want to leave if it meant leaving Mia. Especially because I know him, and I know his patterns. He was intrigued by her then, but it wouldn’t last. Mateo loves women who are good at playing games, but eventually he gets bored with them. Eventually he learns all their moves and realizes they aren’t on his level.
Meg’s a player. Mia’s a game.
Maybe that’s why he hasn’t grown bored of her. Maybe Mia is a game he can keep on playing, instead of an opponent he gets bored with.
But when I saw Mia’s face that night as he said those things to me, she looked as if he’d slapped her. She looked like she could actually see him, the real him, not the seductive package, but his ugliness. I didn’t want to leave her with that. I didn’t want to abandon her with him, because I was sure he’d break her. Mia’s not easy to break—it’s like trying to punch air, trying to break that girl, but if anyone could do it, it would be Mateo. I thought that night she might not survive him.
So many nights since then I’ve had no clue if she ever did. I tried to move on. I carved out a life of my own—not as much fun as I expected it to be, but I still wanted it.
Only I couldn’t find another Mia. I couldn’t find anyone who held my interest. After living life as a Morelli, the real world was pretty fucking boring.
I couldn’t stay away. I became fixated on Mia, on how she used to make me feel. No one else could make me feel like she did. I wanted them to, but it wasn’t working. No one else could accept me for all that I am, because no one else could know all that I am. All that I have been. All that I’ve done. Some random-ass girl I pick up at a bar doesn’t know what I’m capable of. They can’t weather the nature I was born with.
Mia always could. The good, the bad, the ugly. Even when she didn’t much like me, she could still ride me out.
Mia never gives up on you, no matter what. She has an endless reserve of spirit. It’s the only way she could’ve made it through almost five years with the Morellis and still remain soft.
I feel a little relieved, thinking about it. It’s comforting. Mia’s comforting. Right now she’s pissed off and difficult, but that’ll subside. I may not be Mateo, but I’ve got the same blood running through my veins. I can handle Mia. I can make her mine again.
God, I can’t wait to get home.
Everything will get better once we get there. Once Mia sees that I’m not overshadowed here, not eclipsed by fucking Mateo. Once Mia sees that I’m the king of her new fucking castle.
I’m grinning just thinking about it. This is what it should’ve been like with her. I was too young before, not hard enough. I thought we could live under Mateo’s rule. I thought love was enough. I thought she loved me enough to resist Mateo. Everything’s going to be different now. Now there’s no one else to resist—all I have to do is keep her away from him. She’s mine again, and she’ll just have to fucking adjust.
---
Mia’s asleep. She’s so fucking cute when she sleeps. She looks so innocent. It’s bizarre to think of her as innocent now, but she’s always felt that way. Even the morning after brutal hate sex, she still managed to exude a sweetness I wish they could bottle and sell.
I hate knowing she’s been with Mateo for so long though. I hate that she’s been with him at all, but knowing he must’ve gotten bored with normal, I can only imagine the kind of dirty shit she’s done by now. He was never supposed to have her. I never should’ve let that happen. Even after all that shit the first time, he only sampled her. I should’ve never let her go after that. The asshole even warned me, and I wouldn’t listen.
I finally turn onto our road and peace washes over me. Maybe I had to sell my own soul to get back my birthright, but I have to believe it’ll end up being worth it. She can fill up the hole inside me, and I’ll be able to give Mia everything she wants, all the shit Mateo could always beat me with. He won’t have the advantage like he used to. Mia will see that she can have me and still have everything she likes.
Eventually. Not yet. She doesn’t fucking deserve it yet.