Coming Home (Morelli Family 6)

“I’m hungry,” I tell him, trying to tug my wrist free.

“You have a lot of needs,” he says, like this is inconvenient.

“Couldn’t we stop and get some actual food? I’m still sluggish and I don’t know if it’s from lack of food or you drugging me.”

“Want to say that a little louder?” he asks, casting a look of displeasure my way.

“I would, actually,” I tell him. “Why do you even want to take me with you? You’re clearly annoyed at me. Like, all the time. I’m obviously not bringing you any joy. It’s okay to call this a loss. You tried; it didn’t work out. Admirable effort. Why don’t you just leave me here and go back to wherever you call home these days? I’ll call Mateo and have him pick me up. If you give me up on your own, I can convince him not to kill you.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d love trying to convince him,” he says sourly.

“I would,” I tell him, with relish. “He’d make me worship his big cock—”

I’m about to get meaner, but Vince’s grip on my wrist tightens and he swings around, backing me into a display of boxed doughnuts.

Some random chick in the aisle looks up, so he backs off, but he still looks like he wants to kill me. His jaw is locked. He pulls me a little harder than necessary toward the door and leads me back out to the car. He fastens the cuffs around my wrists once I’m inside. I give him a good glare. He doesn’t care.

“Just let me go,” I say, one more time.

He smirks, shaking his head, and slams the door in my face.

Chapter Nine

Vince

I imagined Mia and I would talk a lot more during this long-ass car ride, but I also imagined she would piss me off a lot less. I’m not sure why, now that I think about it. I remember now that she used to piss me off all the time, but always because of Mateo. I thought with him not around, it would be smoother sailing.

He’s still around though. The bastard isn’t even here, and she still manages to annoy me with him. The worst part is, once I stop being so pissed off at her, I feel bad. I didn’t mean to push her into the display back at the gas station. I didn’t think, I just reacted, but that’s exactly the sort of shit that pushed her away before. And now it’s not even a matter of pushing her away—I don’t have her. Maybe she’s sitting here in this car with me, but she’s not present. It drives me fucking crazy when she does that. I want to know what she’s sitting over there thinking about, but I know it’s probably him, so I don’t ask.

I tell myself it won’t be like this once we get home. The car ride was bound to be tense. She didn’t want to come with me, after all.

“You never thought about leaving him?”

I don’t know why I ask that. I regret the question as soon as it’s out, but she glances my way, guarded but bored enough to answer.

“No,” she says. “It wasn’t an option anyway, but… I didn’t want to.”

“How long did you think I was dead?”

“A little over a month. It felt like a lot longer, but it was about a month.”

It’s weird to think about. I mean, I’ve thought about it a lot over the years, since Mateo made it clear that night when he brought Adrian in that he was going to tell Mia I was dead, that it would be in my best interest to stay dead, because if I ever resurfaced in Chicago, I would be.

I didn’t even want to go, though. It was exactly what I’d wanted all my life, but I didn’t want to leave if it meant leaving Mia. Especially because I know him, and I know his patterns. He was intrigued by her then, but it wouldn’t last. Mateo loves women who are good at playing games, but eventually he gets bored with them. Eventually he learns all their moves and realizes they aren’t on his level.

Meg’s a player. Mia’s a game.

Maybe that’s why he hasn’t grown bored of her. Maybe Mia is a game he can keep on playing, instead of an opponent he gets bored with.

But when I saw Mia’s face that night as he said those things to me, she looked as if he’d slapped her. She looked like she could actually see him, the real him, not the seductive package, but his ugliness. I didn’t want to leave her with that. I didn’t want to abandon her with him, because I was sure he’d break her. Mia’s not easy to break—it’s like trying to punch air, trying to break that girl, but if anyone could do it, it would be Mateo. I thought that night she might not survive him.