Ordinarily he might cut off my anger, interrupting with an authoritative “that’s enough,” to let me know not to push. He doesn’t now, though. He laces his fingers together across his torso and keeps watching, like he’s waiting patiently for me to unleash the rest of my anger on him.
I’m furious at the burn of tears behind my eyes. “This is unforgivable. There was no reason for you to do something like this. What were you thinking? If you wanted her, you could’ve easily seduced her. You know that. I know that. Fuck, Vince knows that. Instead you chose to hurt her? You’re a monster. Is this because you wanted to break them up? Please tell me this isn’t because of what I said.”
I don’t mean that literally, because I don’t imagine he would give me that kind of assurance, but he does at least surprise me by saying levelly, “Of course it’s not.”
I should feel relieved, but I don’t. My chest is too thick with the knowledge of this crime against Mia. I feel like throwing up. My own brother…
“I’m so disappointed in you,” I tell him, but I’m out of steam. I’m going to break down crying if I stand here for even another minute, so I turn and leave, slamming the study door shut behind me.
I don’t take the time to tell Sal I’m coming over, so when he comes to the door, he is understandably alarmed.
“Francesca?” His gray eyes sharpen as he comprehends my emotional state. His arms open wide and I walk right into them, securing my arms around him tightly and burying my face in his chest. “What happened?” he asks, alert. “What’s wrong?” He pulls back to look me over again, as if he’d see evidence of whatever’s hurting me. “Are you okay?”
“Mateo did something horrible,” I state, burying my face in his chest again.
“To you?” Sal asks, his voice rising with anger.
“No, not to me. To Mia.”
I feel him relax. I want to tell him that’s not fair, just because she isn’t me doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve his anger, but I guess I understand his relief that I’m all right.
“Vince’s girl? Did he finally kill her?”
“What?”
I pull back, alarmed at the sound of Mark’s voice. I hadn’t even looked past Sal to see he wasn’t alone, that Mark was sitting on the couch, but now he’s halfway across the room to me.
“No, he didn’t kill her.” I stop though, unsure how much I want to say. I don’t know why I didn’t consider that since I wasn’t coming over, Sal probably had other plans. He doesn’t really hang out by himself; he’s always with someone.
Mark is as alert as Sal was just a second ago. “What did he do to Mia?”
I’m hardly comfortable telling Salvatore what Mateo did, but I certainly can’t tell Mark. It wouldn’t be fair to Mia. It’s not my place to share her experiences with the whole world.
Oh my God, poor Mia. I feel so horrible for her. I don’t know what to do about it, though. Right now I just hug Sal and let him comfort me.
I want him to save me. I want him to whisk me away from the dysfunctional house I grew up in. I wish I could make a real home with him.
At least I have this escape though. At least I can come to him for shelter from the storms my goddamn brother unleashes under our roof.
—
I don’t know why I don’t expect Mia to come to family dinner on Sunday. I guess since she stopped coming to the other ones, I assumed she was relegated to his actual prisoner now. Maybe he’s not stowing her in the dungeon like Dad used to do, but he’s adopting a slightly softer version of Dad’s bullshit habits.
Mia shows up in the kitchen alone, but Mateo comes to check on her—to make sure she showed up, I think. My heart sinks for her, having to endure his presence, but she barely glances at him, then she goes right back to chopping peppers. I probably wouldn’t have given her a knife if I knew he’d be coming to the kitchen tonight.
Once he catches my gaze, he nods for me to join him out in the hall.
I’m still absolutely disgusted with him, but I’d rather get him away from Mia than be difficult, so I follow him.
“What?” I ask, shortly.
“She only serves me now.”
For the millionth time, my stomach sinks with dread. “You’re taking that from him, too?”
Mateo rolls his eyes. “I’ve already taken everything else, why not?”
“She shouldn’t have to serve you at all after what you’ve done to her,” I inform him, firmly disgusted that he’s adding insult to injury. “She’s not your woman, she’s your prey. Just let her serve Vince and I’ll bring you yours.”