Once Burned (Morelli Family 3)

The matter apparently settled, she heads back out to the hall, stepping into the kitchen. She puts the two paper plates down on the counter and begins opening cupboards.

I bought a set of dishes and a 6-pack of blue plastic cups. In the drawer she finds a cheap new set of silverware in a plain white tray, some essential kitchen utensils in the one beside it.

“There’s not much in the fridge,” I tell her, as she reaches for the handle to open it. “I figured we could go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

Faintly smiling, she says, “At least that I’m familiar with.” Reopening the drawer with the silverware, she extracts two forks. Grabbing the plates, she heads back over to me.

I take a plate and fork, watching as she peels the foil off hers. “Cake for dinner?”

She shrugs. “There’s just bottled water in the fridge, so unless you’d prefer to eat air…”

“We could go out and get something to eat,” I tell her. “Plenty of places to eat around here. I saw some kind of hot dog restaurant back there, there’s a pizza place just behind us, I could walk over and grab one in like two minutes.”

Her lips curve up as she digs in. “You can get whatever you’d like. I’m going to eat cake.”

Chapter Two

It’s a long first night.

There’s plenty we probably could do after dinner—explore our corner of the city, unpack our few belongings, address our situation.

Instead we watch Aladdin.

It’s only 9:30 when the movie ends and I don’t know what we’ll do with the rest of the night. Elise sits on the couch in silence with me for a few minutes, then she pushes up and heads to the bedroom.

I don’t know whether or not to follow her, but when she doesn’t return after a few minutes, I head down the hall to see what she’s up to. Leaning against the doorframe, I watch her sit down on the bed, curling a leg beneath her, and lovingly caress a worn, bent literature book, the pages slightly curled, the laminate on the cover peeling off. I recognize it, and even though she didn’t invite me to, I step inside, moving closer to the bed.

Glancing up at me with a mercifully pleasant smile, she asks, “Remember how I used to read to you? And we’d talk about all these stories, and you’d tell me about the women who wrote them.”

I nod. I doubt I’ve forgotten even a minute of that time.

“I loved that,” she says simply, opening the book and flipping through various marked pages. “You always knew so much. It should’ve made me feel hopelessly unintelligent, but it didn’t. You always treated me like I was far more interesting than I actually am.”

“That’s not true,” I tell her.

She rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling. “Sit down, I’ll read to you.”

It’s the lightest I’ve felt all day. Climbing on the bed, I make my way toward the head to relax on the pillows, while Elise remains at the foot. She begins reading without telling me which story she’s chosen, but I recognize it by the end of the first (admittedly long) sentence.

Years ago, this was my favorite part of every day. It took Elise one week of faithful visitation to my cell before she had my allegiance. I can’t say why—despite the burns and my general disinterest in people, it wasn’t as if I’d never been around women. I’ve been with my fair share, though rarely for more than a few weeks. Two months, tops. It was never serious. I was never trying to connect, and neither were they.

But then Elise popped up, innocent and kind, thinking I landed in Mateo’s jail cell for killing the man who tried to hurt her. I wasn’t sure what it said about her that she was so comfortable with a man she fully realized was a killer, but I liked it, because it was me. Elise made me feel something—not sexually, not then. She was 16 at the time, after all. But when Mateo finally came back down, I had to know how she came to be there. I had to know if he’d ever let her leave.

He didn’t want to kill me anyway, I know he didn’t. What he wanted, what he had always wanted, was to bring me into his family the only way he knew how—by having me work for him. Realizing he had something I wanted, he offered me a bargain—he’d pardon me for my crimes against him and give me Elise, provided I give him five solid years of dedicated service.

Prior to that, there had been no end date on Elise’s position. Much like Maria, Elise was simply there, and she would remain there. He never said so, but knowing him as I do, especially now, I assume if I hadn’t come along, she would’ve ended up in his bed as she grew older. I don’t think she would’ve stayed there. Mateo needs more of a challenge than Elise would’ve ever represented to hold his interest, but after Beth was gone, I’m sure Elise would’ve jumped at the chance to comfort the bastard.