Chapter Thirteen
Vince
Carly’s light fingers skate across my chest, around the shape of my shoulder, and continue down my arm until she gets to my hand. Once she gets there, she twines our fingers together and settles her face on my chest, snuggling up close to me as I lie here on her bed, completely relaxed.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks.
We’ve just been lying here in the quiet for several peaceful minutes. Carly has filled the silence with tender touches. She’s naturally affectionate. I don’t hate it.
What I do hate is what I’m currently thinking about. “I’m thinking that tonight is the first time in recent history I’ve come home to my apartment and it didn’t even cross my mind to check the house.”
“Check the house for what?”
“For a man who shouldn’t be there. Someone waiting for me in the shadows.”
Carly’s expression dims slightly. “Oh. Well, that sounds like a good thing.”
I shake my head, disagreeing. “It’s not a good thing. I had both of you with me. What if he’d been there? I didn’t even check.”
Considering her words carefully, Carly pauses, then says, “I think it’s good to be diligent about safety in a healthy way, but I doubt it’s necessary to literally check your house every single night for no reason. I mean, have you noticed anyone following you around?”
I roll my eyes. “Only you.”
“I meant someone who isn’t cute,” she replies, cheekily. “Someone who might feed you a bullet instead of delicious cookies.”
“Those cookies are delicious,” I tell her. I can’t even argue with that. “But just because I haven’t seen anyone doesn’t mean no one is there. He had me watched before and I don’t know by who. He doesn’t hire people who are shoddy enough to get caught.”
“Well, I’ve already told you how I feel about this. I don’t think he’s looking for you. I think he could’ve already found you. It’s been months.”
“You think I’m being paranoid.”
“No,” she says, carefully. “Not paranoid. Paranoia is unwarranted, perceiving a threat where there is none; your caution is entirely warranted. You did something to provoke a man you know to be dangerous, and that’s… well, it warrants watching over your shoulder. I just think maybe your cousin has given you a pass that he’s not announcing. Maybe because of Mia, like you said before. She didn’t want you to die, so maybe he’s trying to respect her wishes. Maybe he’s hoping you’ll find someone else and move on with your life—and maybe if you do, he’ll let that happen. Then you won’t have to check your closets for the boogeyman every night.”
“I think that’s optimistic. Mateo isn’t nice. He doesn’t care about my happiness.”
“But he cares about Mia’s,” she states. “Maybe he cares about her happiness more than getting back at you. Maybe as long as you’re not a threat, he’ll leave you alone.”
“Yeah, but he wouldn’t even know that. If he finds me—”
“If he hasn’t already found you,” Carly interjects.
I roll my eyes. “You don’t get it. He already had me watched until he thought I moved on. Say you’re right and he found me, say he’s got someone out there watching us right now to see what happens. He won’t say, ‘oh, Vince is in a relationship, now I have nothing to worry about,’ because he already did that once. You’re not the first girl I’ve dated since Mia. I dated and had girlfriends when he let me out before. I still went back for her. It’s a matter of simple fucking logistics at this point. He can’t keep someone on me forever. He can’t literally employ a pro whose only job is watching me for the rest of his life—and that’s what he would have to do, because he already tried trusting me to stay away. He won’t make that mistake again. I am too much trouble to leave alive at this point, and Mateo knows that. It isn’t even all about getting back at me; it’s about eliminating a threat and keeping his family safe. He has to kill me or fall asleep every night wondering if I’m out here plotting a return. The only way he knows Mia’s safe is if he kills the people who threaten her safety. I know him; you don’t. Just believe me on this. He offered peace and I threw it away. His next move is to eliminate me. It’s what he should have done in the first place. He already tried an alternate method for Mia; I fucked that one up.”
“Okay, but this is all predicated on the foundational idea that you’re a threat to Mia. If you’re not anymore, he can leave you alive with little to no risk.”
This girl is not getting it. I shake my head, not wanting to spend the whole damn night talking about this shit. “Let’s just drop it. You don’t understand how Mateo’s mind works. People who haven’t experienced Mateo don’t get it, but trust me, I know him. I grew up with him. I’ve watched how he operates. I worked for him, for fuck’s sake—I know his methods.”
Since our hands are still entwined she gives it a little squeeze, then looks up at me with that sultry little smile of hers. “Okay, okay. I wasn’t trying to rile you up.”
“I am not riled up.”
“You seem a little riled.”
I give her a dry look. “Is this how you drop a topic?”
“Nope, this is how I drop a topic.” She pauses, then in a lighter tone asks, “So, what did you think of Laurel? I think she really likes you.”
“Laurel’s cool,” I say, nodding. “You’re different around her.”
“Bad different?” she inquires.
“No, not bad different. I like all the different sides of you I’ve seen so far.”
“Good,” she says, releasing my hand and trailing her hand across my abdomen. “I like all the sides of you I’ve seen so far, too.”
“Even my crazy side?” I ask, wryly.
“Oh, especially your crazy side. How’d you like my mouthy side?” she asks, smiling up at me curiously.
“I think there are better things to do with your mouth than run it at me.”
Carly laughs, sinking into my side. “Oh yeah? You mean like licking… candy canes? Or wrapping my lips around something stiff and sucking up all the white, creamy… milkshake?”
I grin. “You’re the worst tease I’ve ever met.”
“Psh, I’m the best tease you’ve ever met. I teased your ass into a relationship and you haven’t even fucked me yet.”
I can’t believe she called me out on it, but my eyes widen and I look down at her. “I know, that surprised me, too. I’ve never had a girlfriend I haven’t fucked before. Fucked plenty of girls who weren’t girlfriends, but I think we’re approaching the situation ass-backwards this time.”
“Or maybe we’re doing it right,” she suggests. “Get to know each other, get to like each other, decide to go for it, then consummate. I think that’s actually the traditional order of things.”
“Not in my family,” I tell her, shaking my head. “In my family it’s more like meet one of us, have the bad judgment of being attracted to us in some way, some combination of trauma and forcing you into a relationship, then boom, you’re basically married. Until death do you part, whether you like it or not.”
Carly smirks. “Sounds super healthy.”
“Says the girl who forced me into a relationship earlier today,” I point out.
Her jaw drops open and she looks impressed with herself. “I did, didn’t I? Do I get to be a Morelli now? Are there T-shirts for joining the club? Bumper stickers? Membership cards?”
“I guess you get the honor of saying you Morelli trapped someone. I guess it’s even more impressive because you’re not exactly intimidating, but you still pulled it off.”
“With a little help from Mr. Ink Muscles.”
I tighten my arm around her waist, tugging her more snugly against my body. “I’m gonna punch this guy in the face if I ever see him.”
She grins, leaning up and brushing her lips against mine. “Mm, he’s got nothing on you. That’s why I didn’t Morelli trap him instead.”
“I don’t think you get to use the term Morelli trap if there are no Morellis involved.”
She climbs on top of me, straddling me. Her hair falls in her face so she gathers it and tosses it up on top of her head, securing it with an elastic band around her wrist. Once that’s all taken care of, she reaches for the hem of my shirt and drags it up my torso. “You’re my favorite Morelli.”
I roll my eyes, lifting my arms so she can drag the shirt off over my head. “I’m the only one you know.”
“So? You’re still my favorite.”
I guess I’ll take it.
“Am I your favorite girlfriend?” she teases.
“You’re my only girlfriend,” I point out.
“Then I’m your favorite. Tell me I’m your favorite. Give me my affirmation, dammit.”
She’s so crazy. I half smile. “Fine, you’re my favorite girlfriend.”
Carly claps her hands. “Yay!” Then she plants her hands on my shoulders and swoops in, kissing the hell out of me. My amusement fades, quickly replaced by arousal as Carly kisses me, fills me up with her cute little sighs, and subtly rolls her hips forward, riding me through my clothes. Fuck, she can turn me on in an instant.
Breaking away, she leans back and draws her own shirt off, tossing it on the floor. Instead of letting her control things, I grab her hips and flip her on her back, taking her by surprise.
“Ooh, yes,” she murmurs, approvingly, as I unfasten the button of her jeans and slowly ease down the zipper.
“Have you been touching this pussy without me?” I ask, recalling her words earlier tonight.
“I have,” she tells me, fondling her breasts as she looks up at me. “Was I not supposed to? Is this pussy property of Vince Morelli now?”
I drag the jeans off and toss them, easing down her body. Today she has on a red lace thong. Fuck, I need to see her ass in this thong.
“Damn right it is,” I tell her, running a hand up her thigh, then guiding her over onto her stomach.
She follows direction easily and rolls over, bracing her forearms on the bed and pushing her perfect ass up in the air, wiggling it at me. “See anything you like?”
Jesus Christ. I can’t drag my eyes away from the perfection of her ass, each globe smooth and plump. I could look at her for days and not get bored. She eases back into the position, spreading her legs a little wider so I get a peek at the barely covered pussy I have yet to claim. The course fabric is completely see through. I slide my finger up under the edge of the scant lace, pushing my finger between her folds. She’s already slick, so my finger moves inside easily. Carly sighs with pleasure, dropping her face against the bed. I’m torn between wanting to explore and wanting to get her off. I wish we had all night, but I don’t want to stay over. I wish I could take her to my place so we could be as noisy as we want, but I’m still too wary of overnight guests.
“I see something I want to taste,” I tell her.
“You’ve already tasted it,” she teases.
“I need more,” I tell her, pulling my finger out of her and easing the panties down her thighs. “Once isn’t enough.”
Just as I’m about to roll her over on the bed and bury my face between her legs, there’s a timid knock at the door.
Carly’s head hits the bed and she sighs. “What?”
“I’m so sorry. Can I get the wifi password? These walls are really thin. Like, really thin. And I want to watch something on my iPad and put my ear buds in, that way… you know, I won’t hear everything and feel like a creep.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter, covering my face with my hands.
“Hang on,” Carly says, rolling off the bed and grabbing a white robe. Peeking back at me over her shoulder, she says, “I’ll be right back.”
I nod and relax back against her pillows, but I accept that I am not getting laid tonight. I’ve had sex enough times with an audience; I’d like for my days of supervised sex to be over and done with. I need to find out how long Laurel is in town for. I’m glad Carly has her sister here and everything, but Jesus Christ.
Something buzzes to my left. I look over and see Carly left her cell phone on the night stand, plugged in to charge while she sleeps tonight. My old Mia instincts kick in and I want to check it. It’s past 11; who is texting her this late?
I tell myself not to touch the phone. Carly isn’t Mia. She just told me today how faithful she’s going to be. There’s no reason for me to distrust her.
But it’s just right there.
I sit forward, looking over at the screen as it goes dark. I wouldn’t even have to open it. Just light up the screen and I’ll see who the text is from. That’s barely an invasion of her privacy. I could spot that, just walking by the damn phone.
Yeah, I could see it innocently. Phones vibrate and light up a second time if you don’t check them quickly enough; maybe I’ll just stand and stretch, hang out there for a minute. Not my fault if I see it then.
Of course, she may not be gone two more minutes.
Fuck it. I’m already up, and her phone’s just right here. I check the doorway to make sure she hasn’t come back yet and light up the phone.
My heart drops when I see “Boss Man” as the contact name. The message is short, so I can read the whole thing without opening the message. “I don’t know. I’m going to bed. We can talk about it tomorrow.”
Fuck it. Now I’m opening the goddamn message. I yank her phone right off the charger and slide open the message. Disappointment burns through me when I open the fucking message and it’s the only one. She deleted the message chain after she sent whatever the question was.
“What the hell are you doing?”
My gaze snaps to Carly, standing in the doorway, staring at me. Anger surges through my veins, finding the cracks my old life made and filling them with rage. “Who the fuck are you talking to, Carly?”
“What are you talking about?” She scowls, walking over to retrieve the phone.
I hold it up out of her reach. “Who the fuck is boss man?”
“Seriously? My boss. Is that not clear?”
“You got fired,” I remind her.
She sighs, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “From the restaurant. Not from my internship. You knew I came here for an internship. It’s literally why I’m not in Chicago right now, Vince. We’ve talked about it.”
“Barely. You’ve mentioned it, we haven’t talked about it. I don’t even know what the internship is. I damn sure don’t know why he would be texting you at nearly midnight. That doesn’t seem like appropriate intern-boss communication to me.”
Carly nods, annoyed with me. “Okay.” Holding her hand out expectantly, she says, “Can I have my phone back?”
“No. I’m going to call and find out who it is.”
“Be my guest,” she says, her tone even, with just a tinge of annoyance. “You can explain to his wife why I’m calling him in the middle of the fucking night.”
My eyes widen. “You texted him in the middle of the fucking night.”
“No, I texted him before we went to the movie tonight,” she responds. “He’s disorganized and takes forever to respond to things. He probably doesn’t even realize what time it is and that he shouldn’t be texting me; he’s an academic, his mind is pretty much always in three different places. By all means, if you want to humiliate me in front of someone whose respect I would like to have, go ahead and call the 60-year-old man I work for and demand to know why he’s texting me. That would be fucking fantastic. I’m sure he’ll take me very seriously after that.”
That last comment gets at me. My paranoid mind, the lessons taught to me by enduring Mateo makes me crazy with rage over this bullshit. I don’t even think Mia ever had Mateo’s number when we were together, but I still always felt like she was talking to him. If not Mateo, then she was probably talking to Mark. If not Mark, she could stroll down the fucking street and meet some asshole who would throw his body over a puddle so she didn’t have to step in it—maybe she’d be texting him.
That’s not fair. Mia never cheated on me with Mark or anyone else who was attracted to her, only Mateo.
Only the fucking boss.
I look down at the phone, my fingers curled around the screen in a death grip. I’ll never be able to see the word “boss” and not think of him.
Even if it’s a crazy, paranoid thing to think, I can’t help the doubt that fills my mind. I can’t help looking at this message which could very well be from some wrinkly old dude who means no harm, and thinking, what if it’s Mateo?
The text isn’t informative, but my mind goes to the full sentences. Mateo texts in full sentences. He’s even bad at texting back promptly, so even if she really did text him earlier, it could just as easily be that motherfucker as some scattered academic. Those are also the kind of specific, brief lies you would tell to make someone sound real—give life to an illusion. Mateo’s done that before in a tight spot.
I can’t fucking trust anything right now. I look at this phone and see Mateo. I look at Carly and see a lie.
But I can’t call her bluff, because if she’s innocent, I don’t want to embarrass her in front of her boss, either.
I’m in a tight fucking spot and I don’t know what to do. I’m so uncomfortable I want to crawl out of my skin, so I toss the phone on her bed and cross the room.
Carly backs up against the wall as I advance on her. She keeps her gaze on me, but doesn’t speak. I don’t stop until I’m literally on top of her, our bodies brushing. My hand drifts to her jawline, sliding down until it settles around her neck. Then I close my fingers, squeezing until she gasps and grabs at my fingers. “Vince…”
“Tell me something, Carly. The bad man you were involved with before me, the one you said you got tangled up with…. What was his name? And before you answer, know that I’m going to look him up and verify that he not only exists, but has a tie to you. I’ll pay someone to look into it professionally, if I have to.”
“Please don’t do that,” she says, her throat convulsing beneath my fingers as she swallows. “I have a restraining order. He can’t know where I am or he’ll…”
“Kill you?” I guess. I would have the dumb fucking luck to find a second girl who can drive men out of their fucking minds. “So will I, if you’re fucking lying to me. If Mateo sent you, you better tell me right now.”
Tears well up in her big, blue eyes. She looks so disappointed that it physically hurts me. My grip automatically loosens on her neck, though I don’t move my hand completely.
Finally, she whispers, “Gavin. Gavin Halstead is his name. He travels between Chicago and New York. You’ll find addresses for him at both places. Now, please get your hands off me and get out of my apartment.”
I hold her gaze, hating the feeling in my gut. Hating the gleam of tears in her eyes. She doesn’t let them fall, but they’re welling up because of me. I hate it, and yet I can’t convince myself I’m wrong. I can’t convince myself she’s not tied to Mateo somehow. I can’t convince myself he’s not “Boss Man.”
I can’t convince myself I’m safe with her. There’s still so much I don’t know.
I drop my hand. I stare at her for a minute.
Then I do as she requested and get the fuck out of her apartment.