Coming Home (Morelli Family 6)

It takes a long time to convince myself to do it. I’m certain I’m going to get caught. I’m not gutsy enough for this. I wish he would’ve kidnapped Meg instead—she would’ve already retrieved the key, let herself out, and driven away—with the cupcakes.

I’ve gotta get it together.

It takes forever to get up on my knees. I’m trying so hard not to move the bed, cringing every time it so much as creaks.

I miss Mateo.

Not evil Mateo, the one I’m likely to encounter next, but Bahamas Mateo. I wish we were back at that hotel. I wish more than anything he was the man lying in this bed beside me.

Maybe I can get the keys, escape with Vince’s car, and not have to deal with this. That seems unlikely. Even if I get away now, Mateo’s going to demand to know what happened. I’ll have to tell him, because if Vince came back after four years, that means he might come back again.

I can’t believe him.

Mateo let him out. He was free. I can’t believe he did this shit.

He’s still asleep and I’m balancing on my knees, so now all I have to do is reach over his body and grab the key. Of course he couldn’t leave it right on the edge, where I could easily accomplish this. Of course I have to try to keep my handcuffed wrist still and stretch across the bed until I’m ready to tip over.

My finger touches the cool metal key and relief moves through me. Holy shit. I’m almost there. I’ve almost got it. I use my finger to pull it closer. I have it! I have the key.

I’m shaking, but I have the key. I ease back onto my side of the bed, inserting the key into the lock as quietly as I can.

And then Vince’s free hand flies over and grabs my wrist.

I gasp, stomach sinking, and he glares at me.

“Really, Mia?”

“I—I just had to pee,” I say, even though it’s clearly a lie.

He climbs up on his knees and shoves me down on the bed, my wrists at my side, pinning me down and continuing to glare at me. “Had to pee, huh?”

I nod vigorously. “I didn’t want to wake you up. I was going to get back in bed. I don’t even know where we are—I wouldn’t know how to get home.”

“I’m going to start punishing you for lying,” he tells me. “I hate it when you lie. It pisses me off. I’m going to break you of that dirty fucking habit.”

“It’s not a habit,” I mutter.

“Then stop fucking doing it. I’ll warn you this time, but this is the only warning you get, Mia. Next time you lie to me, I punish you for it.”

“I hate this,” I tell him, wanting to lash out. “I hate you.”

He cocks his head sarcastically and makes me wanna punch him in the jaw. “Huh, and just last night you were happy to see me.”

I shake my head in denial. “No, not you. Not this you. Not asshole Vince. Last night I was happy to see a Vince who apparently doesn’t exist anymore. The Vince who actually cared about me—not the Vince who drugs me and takes things from me and rips me away from everyone I love. I want nothing to do with this Vince.”

“Well, that’s too damn bed,” he tells me, like it makes no difference. Ripping the key from my fingers, he shoves it in his pocket and reaches across the desk to grab his phone from the charger at the other end. He mutters a curse when he sees the time. “I guess I’m not getting any fucking sleep.”

“You can go back to sleep,” I tell him.

“If I go back to sleep and wake up to you fishing around my pants, I’m going to assume you’re looking for my cock, and I’m going to fucking give it to you. Understand?”

My heart sinks and I glare at him wordlessly as he climbs off me and moves back into the spot beside me.

He goes back to sleep anyway.

I’m so incredibly tempted to try for the key, but now I’m afraid to. I saw him shove it in his pocket, so the key’s even closer to me than it was before, but I don’t think I can fish it out of his pocket without waking him up. I don’t especially feel like getting raped right now, so maybe that’s not a great idea.

Instead I alternate between glaring at the ceiling and crying until I, too, fall asleep.

—

It’s dark when Vince wakes me up.

He’s already up and out of bed. He’s filled two plastic cups from the bathroom with water and he’s sitting on the other side of the bed with the cupcake box open.

“It’s time to hit the road,” he tells me. “I slept a lot longer than I meant to.”