Last Words (Morelli Family 7)

I miss talking about her break-in fantasies and her easily controlling my temper with her skilled teasing. I don’t care why it’s skilled. I don’t care if she’s good at playing men. Maybe I need someone who’s good at playing men. Mia only seemed to play them by accident, and that kind of power unharnessed can wipe out fucking civilizations. Sure wiped out mine.

But Carly is in control of her power. She knows she has it, spent time honing it, and now she uses it to make us both happy. Mia’s reckless, uncontrolled power over men brings only destruction; Carly knows what she’s doing, so she uses it to grow nice things. To force a surly, closed-off asshole out of his dark fortress of solitude and into the light with her.

If Carly can get past what she had to do and emerge like a new, shiny person, surely I can get over a little heartbreak and betrayal.

Civilizations fold. It happens. You can curl up and die with it, or you can start over. You can build a new one.

The grudge I’ve been holding, the bitterness I’ve clung to, it all feels heavy.

This new thought makes me feel light. Like Carly.

The weight of a collapsed world on my shoulders is something I’ve chosen. Carly had reason to carry the same weight, but she let it go. She chose a better, happier way.

I admire the hell out of that.

I admire the hell out of her.

It’s time to let go of the dark solitude and step into the light with Carly.

Chapter Sixteen

Vince

I slide the lock pick back into my pouch and ease it into the pocket of my jacket as I ease the door shut behind me. All the lights in Carly’s apartment are off, both girls tucked away in bed. I’m slightly concerned about the thin walls, but maybe that can add to the stakes of the game.

I kick off my boots and leave them by the door.

I peel the jacket off and leave it on her couch.

Her bedroom door creaks slightly when I ease it open, and again when I ease it shut. I twist the knob and wait until I hear the faint click as the latch catches in the groove that will keep the door from drifting open.

My gaze moves to the bed. Carly lies facedown, her long blonde hair pulled up in her favorite “adorably fucked up” bun. She’s fast asleep. The blankets are pulled up to her waist, hiding some of her curves from my view. The thin material of her lilac top clings to her in all the right places, I know from memory, but right now I can only see the curve of her back since she’s sleeping on her tummy.

I brought the present I still haven’t unwrapped, so I set it down on her dresser, the same way she set it down on mine.

I move soundlessly to stand beside the bed and look down at her. I don’t plan to wake her up just yet, but I need to touch her. As I run a light finger along the smooth perfection of her cheek, I second guess this plan for a moment. How do I know this part was real? Maybe she was just feeling me out, trying to see what I’m into. Maybe she doesn’t really have kinky break-in fantasies.

I can’t think that, though. Opening that door opens the door to everything being a lie, and I need that door to be locked up so securely that even I can’t get in.

There’s no half-assing this one, so I ditch the doubts along with my shirt on the floor by Carly’s bed. I draw my prop out of the waistband of my pants and look at it. It’s been a long time since I’ve held a gun, to be honest. I can’t say I missed it. This one isn’t loaded, just for show, but it still feels weird to be armed again.

Where my finger was just a moment ago, I replace it with the barrel of my gun. I drag the cold metal along Carly’s jawline until her eyes open. They go wide instantly—nothing cold should be touching her face while she sleeps—and she turns her head to look up at me.

I can’t quite tell if the fear on her face is genuine, or she’s just a really good actress, but I can’t exactly break character to ask. It probably doesn’t even matter. Girls who are into shit like this like a man who can scare them; I spent enough time with one to pick up that much.

I move quickly now; you have to in this scenario. I keep my voice low, aware of Laurel sleeping in the next room. Carly gasps and thrashes, trying to turn over as I climb on top of her, keeping her face down on the bed.