“I’m really fucking sick of this shit, Vince. What did you say to her?” Mateo finally demands.
Vince smirks, and boy, does he sell it. “Maybe it’s not what I said, but what I did to her.”
Mateo’s hook lands that time, knocking him right in the jaw. “Oh, you wanna play that game, Vince?” Mateo asks, hitting him again.
Shit, Vince isn’t on even footing anymore.
“Mateo, stop. He didn’t do anything to me, he’s just—Please stop fighting,” I say, more tentatively than I mean to. My gaze darts to Vince, then to Colin to see if he looks worried. Of course he doesn’t, though. He doesn’t care about this. He doesn’t care about either one of them; he’s fucking freelance.
Mateo’s voice drags me back to the fight. “You want me to tell you all the things Mia says to me when I fuck her? I could show you. You want to see a fucking tape? You wanna watch Mia fuck me all night long, Vince?”
“Stop,” I cry again, my face heating with embarrassment as he says that to Vince.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Vince growls at him, swinging again, but Mateo blocks it, shoves Vince, and knocks him to the floor.
My heart stalls, because Mateo doesn’t stop there. He kicks Vince in the ribs and from the awful sound Vince makes, it hurts like hell.
“Please stop, you’ve hurt him enough,” I cry, pushing off the couch again. I don’t want to get in the line of fire, but he needs to stop before he really hurts him. He’s made his point.
Only he hasn’t, apparently.
Mateo’s tone turns somehow even more taunting as his foot connects with Vince’s ribs again. “You want to hear how she begs me, Vince?” Another kick. “How she fucking begs me to fuck her? How she tells me her pussy belongs to me? That I own her?”
My stomach sinks like a rock tossed carelessly into a raging river. I’m stunned that he would say those things—that he would say them now. He’s done it before, but that was when he didn’t care about me, when I was just his pawn. For him to use those special moments against me now, to wield them like weapons… it’s horrible. It’s humiliating. I feel sick to my stomach.
“Stop it!” I move closer. I’m on fire now, burning with humiliation and anger. “Stop using me to hurt him. Stop telling him… Stop it. You’re being cruel.”
Spinning around to glare at me, Mateo says, “I am cruel. Wake the fuck up, Mia.”
Vince momentarily forgotten, he stalks toward me now. I back up, because I’ve never seen him like this before. I’m actually afraid of him.
“Should we show him?” he asks, as the back of my legs hit the couch. “I can fuck you here, give him a live show.”
“Please stop,” I say, quietly. “You’re being… You’ve made your point.”
“Apparently I haven’t.” His chest rises and falls the way Vince’s did earlier, full of rage and adrenaline. “This ends tonight. You told me you wouldn’t leave me. Now you’re going to keep your fucking word, whether you like it or not. Walk your ass out to the car, Mia, or you can stay in here and watch me kill your fucking boyfriend.”
“No,” I cry, reaching for him now. Adrenaline surges through my veins, and though there are still tears in my eyes, I can only feel fear now. “Please. You’ve hurt him enough. Please don’t kill him. Please. I can’t live with that, Mateo. I did this. This is all my fault. Please.”
Even though he’s being awful, I keep my hands on him, attempting to soothe him, to tap into his feelings for me. I have to reach him to chill him out—at least, that’s how it works with Vince. Mateo watches me for a long stretch—it feels like forever, but I guess it’s only a minute or so. He’s still angry, but less explosive now, more the cool anger I’ve seen before. I relax at the sight of something familiar. He keeps his eyes on my face, a look of calculation briefly registering and making me uncomfortable again. His calculations are a complete mystery to me, and he never shares them, so they can be scary. His gaze drops to my hands and he watches me nervously grip his lapels, my fingers brushing his chest as I try to calm him so he can be reasoned with. He looks vaguely annoyed by it. I have no idea what to do. I am completely out of my league with him, and I’m so petrified I want to throw up.
He’s terrifying.
Even now, even calmer, Mateo is terrifying.
Without warning, he grabs me and kisses me, but it’s the hardest, meanest kiss he’s ever given me. I know it’s only for Vince’s benefit. He pulls back a moment later, his eyes colder. I didn’t kiss him back. It seems like not being kissed back grates on him more than it does most people. He even insisted I kiss him back when he was raping me, for god’s sake.