I realize that Lito had been right. Mateo loves, and he loves fiercely.
His gaze is piercing, as if he can see straight through me, leaving me nowhere I can hide. Not from him, not when we know each other on this deep level of grief. It’s too intense, and I have to look away, my head swimming with the movement.
I clear my throat and try to pull myself out of the pit of my feelings, of my memories that are tinted in shades of pain and regret. “A-anyway, all creatures deserve love and care. That’s why I wanted to be a vet.” A sting of pain rushes through me when I remember that it’ll never happen. Not for me. My life isn’t mine anymore. It belongs to him.
“It does.” He’s still rubbing my wrist.
“Wait. Did I say that out loud?” My voice seems to come from somewhere down a long tunnel.
“Go to sleep, princess. You’re safe with me.”
I would laugh at the thought of being safe with Mateo, but my mind is already gone, floating in a starry night while a predator with pale eyes watches me from the dark.
19
MATEO
“Where were you?” I grab Benny by the throat and slam him against my office wall. “Where the fuck were you?” I yell into his face.
“Mateo!” Sonny tries to pull me off, but I don’t let him. I squeeze my hands around Benny’s throat. “She was almost raped, and where the fuck were you?”
Benny’s eyes begin to bulge, but he doesn’t fight me. He tries to get air, but he doesn’t push me away or attempt to free himself. Because he’s loyal. Because he always has been.
“Fuck!” I finally let go and step back.
Benny bends over, hands on his knees as he sucks in air and coughs at intervals.
I can’t look at him. Not without wanting to do violence. Instead, I turn away and stalk to the bar, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and chugging it, the burn in my throat matching the one in my heart. It was supposed to be a game with her. Just a game where I got to torment the pretty little Fontana before I went in for the kill. But it’s so much more than that now. When I saw the fear in her eyes, saw her blood—the crystal tumbler cracks in my grip. I drop it, blood oozing from my hand.
“Mateo. You’ve barely slept or eaten in three days. You’re running on fumes. Go easy.”
“Go easy?” I turn to look at Sonny.
His face is just as haggard as mine, perhaps even more so. He just spent three days arguing and sparring with federal agents while I sat silent and refused to cooperate.
“There is no going easy. She’s my wife!”
“I’m sorry.” Benny’s voice is hoarse. “I thought she was with Lito. I didn’t know—”
“You should’ve known!” I roar.
He stands straight again, then hangs his head. “Yes.”
Red lies on one of the couches, his gaze bouncing back and forth between me and Benny. “Look, I love it when the golden boy here gets in trouble, but if he really thought she was with Lito—”
“Stay out of this.” Benny glares at him.
“Okay.” Red closes his eyes, his bruised face still a goddamn mess.
Everything’s a goddamn mess at this point. The feds are breathing down my neck, I’m no closer to ending the Manchellos and the Fontanas, and my wife is injured and drugged upstairs. Why does it tear me to pieces to see her like that? I’m the one who wanted to hurt her, to make her feel the pain I felt when my parents were stolen from me. But to know that she fought for her life, that she gave Geno almost as good as she got—it should never have happened. She should be safe here in her own home. The rage is back, boiling my blood until I can’t see straight.
I take another swig from the bottle, then walk back to Benny.
He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t try to hold me off, even though he knows exactly what I’m capable of.
“If I had known Geno was any sort of a threat …” He shrugs, and I can sense his disappointment. And it’s not in me. It’s in himself. “I’m sorry, Mateo. I let you down. I let her down. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Half of me wants to break the whiskey bottle against the wall and slam the jagged edge into his face. But that’s not entirely true. I’m directing too much of my anger in the wrong direction. Benny made a mistake, but he’s not the one who hurt Lucretia. That was Geno and … fuck, part of it was me. Part of it was the way I treated her, the way I toyed with her. That realization sits heavy in my gut, burning like acid. Still, my men knew she was off limits. That she was mine.