Accidental Witness (Morelli Family 1)

“What?” I ask, confused. She shoves me into the car, but doesn’t leave my side to get back in the driver’s side. “Cherie, what the hell?”

She isn’t looking at me. I realize then she wasn’t talking to me, either, but to the person on the phone.

“Who’s Adrian?” I ask, wishing I knew what the hell was going on. Is Cherie a good guy or a bad guy?

“I’ll do what I can,” she says into the phone. “Hurry, Vince.”

Relief pours through me when she says his name, and a spike of exhilaration hits when I realize he must be coming here.

It drains immediately when I realize there’s only one reason he would have to.

“Mateo?”

Cherie meets my gaze, with far more trepidation than I’m comfortable with.

Then she nods. “Mateo’s here.”

Chapter Twelve

It feels surreal.

I’ve heard the monster’s name so many times, those closest to him trying to drive home the threat he presents, that I can’t imagine the legend of Mateo Morelli having a physical presence. He’s more myth than man to me, and as many times as they’ve expressed their paranoid fears about him, I’ve never experienced it.

Not until I watch Cherie shrink as the soft clap of footsteps along my driveway moves closer. I don’t know what happens when he gets to me, and I’m terrified to find out.

Cherie clutches her phone, backing up against the open car door, but staying by me, like a momma bear with her cub.

The man comes to a stop beside the car, and for several seconds, I don’t think anyone dares even breathe.

“Go home, Cherie.”

His voice sends fear slicing through me—smooth and deep, possessing the seamless confidence exclusive to a man no one says no to.

Cherie swallows audibly. I want to turn and see what he looks like, but I’m too afraid to move.

“I can’t do that, Mateo,” she says, but if I can hear the fear in her voice, I know he can.

She’s going to abandon me here with him. She won’t have a choice. Maybe she’s a good friend to Vince, maybe she even knows his family better than I do, but she’s not going to stand up to this intimidating man to save my neck—not for long.

My breath hitches as he steps closer and I feel glued to my seat, like my legs couldn’t move if they wanted to. The testaments I’ve heard about him come rushing back and no amount of optimism can deny the reality that Mateo Morelli is standing in my driveway, knowing it’s my driveway, mere feet away from the house where Vince killed two people.

Oh, God.

They’re going to kill me.

I want to get out of the car. Not to run, there would be no point, but to appeal to him. He’s here, he’s caught me—throwing myself at his mercy is my only remaining option.

“Vince is blowing up my phone.” That’s a different voice, quieter, not Mateo’s. Again, I want to look, but I feel safer if he knows I haven’t seen his face. I know that logic doesn’t hold here—he’s not some mystery assailant; he won’t let me go because I can’t identify him—but I’m in survival mode here, just trying to find a way out of this exchange that doesn’t end with my dismembered body being dumped in a large body of water.

“He’s on his way,” Cherie says, not moving. “He… Just, please, wait for him to get here. I can’t leave until he gets here.”

“Sure you can,” Mateo replies, smoothly.

“I won’t leave her with you,” she tells him.

“How heroic,” he says, not trying to hide his amusement.

There’s more movement but I still don’t look. My head may as well be glued to the headrest, for all the movement I’m capable of.

Someone walks in front of my car. It’s a man, but it’s not Mateo. I recognize his shaggy hair as he turns to look in at me, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s because he was the other man who came out of the house with Vince that night.

It feels like my chest is going to cave in as he stares at me through the windshield. He doesn’t move, and he’s calm enough that it scares the shit out of me.

You’re only that calm if you know you have nothing to worry about.

I try to find my voice, knowing I need to start speaking for myself while I can.

“Cherie, let me out,” I say, my voice unsteady.

Her eyes widen and she glances at me like I’m experiencing a psychotic break. “No.”

The door is open, but she’s standing right in my way. To protect me, but also to keep me inside. I glance over at the unlocked driver’s side door, aware that either one of them could just slide into that one if they really wanted to. Her human barrier thing is sweet, but I’m not stupid; she’s not in their way any longer than they allow her to be.