Last Words (Morelli Family 7)

But who’s going to protect Roman? Mia loves all our other kids so I’m not worried about them, but she’s never met Roman. Will she take on Mateo for Roman? She has enough on her plate making Mateo accept Vince’s son as his own—she doesn’t need another unwanted son to force Mateo to at least feign affection for.

That’s probably not fair. I know Mateo doesn’t feign affection for our children. I’ve doubted it before, studied him to see if he’s just a monster with stellar acting skills, but there’s no way he’d keep up that charade after this many years. Maybe he would for Mia, but not for me. When he got tired of loving me, he could have stopped. He has no reason to continue to father Lily—at the very least—if he doesn’t have real affection for our kids.

But he doesn’t know Roman yet, either. Mateo doesn’t seem to form emotional connections to our babies until they’re actually born—so what if Roman isn’t real to him yet? He considered fighting Mia to get rid of her pregnancy and he values Mia more highly than anything else. If he has no emotional attachment to my son, what if he could discard him just as easily?

“You okay?”

I nod my head on instinct, but then I stop. My stomach churns even harder. I feel like I’m preparing to give a speech in front of 80 million people in my underwear.

“Actually, no,” I say. My brain itches. Can brains itch? It’s trying to crawl out of my head. Even my brain doesn’t want anything to do with me. My steps slow, my stomach still rocking like a baby’s cradle. I think I’m going to throw up, but I force myself to meet Rafe’s gaze. “I need help.”

I can’t read his expression, exactly. There are faint traces of mild curiosity glinting in his brown eyes, but like the other Morelli men of my acquaintance, this one has a solid poker face. “Yeah?”

I don’t know what I was hoping for—that this belated nugget of neediness would appeal to him like Mia’s waterfall of vulnerability? Sure, he helped her escape Vegas, but I can’t do what Mia does. I can’t open myself up and reveal a pool of need for him to swim in; I don’t have that.

“I’m due in two weeks. He only lets me out of the dungeon on Sundays. Maria only brings me food twice a day. He’s going to kill me.” I nod my head like somehow if I can say this calmly enough, I will maintain some level of control over it. “I understand that. I understand I did something he can’t forgive. But our baby didn’t. Maria said he won’t let Mia visit me and I didn’t get to talk to her alone this week. I don’t know when I’ll go into labor. With Lily, I went a couple days past my due date, but with Rosalie I was a week early. This could be the last time I see anyone before I go into labor.”

“I don’t think Mateo would let his newborn son die,” Rafe offers.

It’s telling that even he doesn’t argue with the fact that I’m going to die. He offers no false assurance that he’s sure Mateo will spare me.

But he knew Beth, so I guess he knows better.

“Will you just please tell Mia to take good care of him? Tell her I just want her to love him like he’s hers? It isn’t his fault I’m his mother. I used to be sure, but I’m not anymore… If Mia loves my son, there’s a much better chance Mateo will.” This makes my heart hurt worse than anything else ever has. That I’m having this baby and I have no idea if he will be loved or mistreated, punished for my sins by a harsh father who, in this, apparently holds a grudge.

Now Rafe looks down at the ground. I don’t know what it means that he can’t look at me. Am I humiliating myself? I probably am. I would’ve liked to at least die with my pride intact, but I’m terrified for my son and I just need someone to promise me he’ll be all right. I don’t know why I’m asking this man. He has no control here. Still, I think I’ll feel better if he reassures me.

This time he’s more adamant. “He’s not going to hurt your son, Meg.”

“Maybe not physically. Mateo can be hurtful in a lot of different ways. It’s basically his superpower.”

“Sounds like a crummy superpower,” Rafe replies, somewhat lightly. “Should’ve held out for better.”

“Yeah, well, Clark Kent was taken; I took what I could get.”

“Maybe next time just stay single and wait for the next batch.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Aren’t you paying attention? Dead woman walking—I get no next time.”