“Get the fuck off her,” I tell Rick.
I look at the state of his clothes—his belt’s undone, his pants tugged down, but I can’t tell if he had time to finish the job.
He’s not moving urgently enough and rage courses through my body. I grab him like he’s nothing, throwing him against a shelf of canned food. “I said get the fuck off her.”
Elise yanks her dress down, scurrying into the corner. I can’t tell if she’s still traumatized from his attack, or if she’s scared of me. Either would be reasonable.
“Hey, man, what the fuck,” Rick objects, his eyes wide with belligerence.
“Get out of here before I break your fucking neck,” I tell him calmly.
“Mateo’s gonna hear about this,” he tells me, clearly thinking it’s a threat.
Meeting his gaze with a smile, I reply, “Oh, you bet he fucking will.”
Turns out, we don’t have to wait long for that. The crash must’ve been loud enough that he heard it in the other room; before Rick can even make it halfway across the kitchen, Mateo’s storming in with a scowl on his face.
“What the fuck is going on in here?”
Elise jumps up, seeing Mateo, and runs over to him. He catches her in his arms naturally, burying her face in his chest, and I can’t help feeling a little rejected. Obviously I didn’t do it for the glory, but I’m the one who paid enough attention to know something was up, I’m the one who came to make sure she was okay, and he’s the one she runs to for comfort.
I also don’t feel even remotely comfortable with the doubts it raises about their relationship. Mateo and I are the same age—28. This girl is 16. I know he likes them younger than him, but that’s too young.
Beth stands off to the side, watching. I search her face for any trace of jealousy, but come up empty—Beth doesn’t seem to give a damn if some pretty young thing runs to Mateo for comfort.
“Did he hurt you?” Mateo murmurs.
Elise shakes her head no, and some of the tension eases out of me. Then she pulls back and adds, “Your friend stopped him.”
She doesn’t know my name. I don’t know why that feels disappointing, but it doesn’t matter. I’m just relieved I got here in time.
Mateo meets my gaze, and he looks a bit troubled. I guess he should be—an important member of his crew just fucked up in a major way, and now he has to deal with it.
I want him to pull his gun out right now. Put Rick in the floor, execution style, and put a bullet right through his sleazy brain.
That doesn’t happen.
“I think we all need to… Dinner’s over,” he finally says. Glancing at me, he says, “You guys have had too much to drink.”
I don’t understand at first. What does that have to do with anything?
Then Rick smirks at me from across the kitchen, and I realize… that’s it. That’s all. Mateo isn’t going to do anything about this, he’s just going to shrug off the behavior by saying we’ve had too much to drink.
“You kidding me?” I say, unable to stop myself.
His eyebrows rise and he gives me a look that tells me how close he is to pulling rank. “Sleep it off, Adrian.”
Wow.
My eyes fall to Elise, still snug against him like he’s her fucking savior. Then to Rick, smug, thinking he’s off the hook.
Finally I nod. “Fine. I’ll sleep it off.”
Without another word, and without waiting to be shown to guest rooms I already know how to find, I turn and leave the kitchen.
—
Leaning forward in the armchair beside Mateo’s bed, I gaze at the face of a man I once called a friend. Even after his father murdered mine, even after the scars and the pain he inflicted on me to hurt them, I still considered Mateo a friend.
Not at first.
At first I was angry, hurt, alone in the world every way a kid can be. But Mateo never gave up, and Mateo’s not the kind of friend who never gives up on you. Mateo’s the kind of friend who’s there when he wants something from you, and not so much when there’s nothing you can do for him.
Me, I never had anything Mateo could’ve wanted, but he still stuck by me. Even when I didn’t want him to.
But we’re not those kids anymore. I grew up to be more ruthless than he ever could’ve expected, and him? Well, he grew up and took his father’s place.
Staring at the gun in my lap, I finger the long, cold silencer screwed onto the end of it.
My gaze moves back to the bed, at Beth lying there beside him. She’s turned the other way, with her back to him, but he still has an arm thrown over her, trying to get close.