Mateo Caputo (Unseen Underground 2)

“Ugh. Fine.” She sat up, rolling her shoulders. “I’ll be ready in ten.”

“I know you will.” I walked away, still amazed at how quickly she got ready. She didn’t mess around when she needed to get out of the door.

By the time I’d gotten Cardo and Chiara into the back of the SUV, she was walking out of the front door, locking it behind her. That didn’t stop me heading over to check the door though. It was a habit I’d developed since we moved into this neighborhood. It was so much safer than where we’d lived all of our life, but that didn’t stop me from being vigilant.

The drop off line to the kids’ school was quick and pain free, and so was the ride to the mansion. Aida was waiting outside for us, and she jumped into the back once I’d stopped in front of her. Both Luna and Aida chatted up a storm, but I was caught up in my own head, my gaze flicking to my glove compartment.

My stomach rolled as I pulled up to my usual spot on the college campus. I’d been preparing for this day for years—nearly eight to be exact—and now it was finally here. The documents stowed away were like a calling card, begging to be brought out into the light.

“I’ll see you later,” Luna said, unclipping her belt and leaning over the center console. Her lips pressed against mine, soft and gentle. She pulled back, her brows lowering as she stared at my face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I answered, way too quick to seem normal. She could tell something was going on with me, but I wouldn’t tell her. I wouldn’t jinx what I was about to do. “I’ll be here when you finish.”

She didn’t move for several seconds, waiting me out, but deep down she knew I wouldn’t tell her what was going on. If I wanted her to know before I did it, then I would have told her. “Okay.” She pulled back completely, grabbed her backpack out of the footwell, and exited the car, waving as she rounded the front.

I idled in the spot as I watched them both walk up the pathway, my hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. Once they’d disappeared into the building, I pulled away from the curb, pulling my mask into place. There was no way I would go into this without my armor in place to protect me.

I worked on automatic, going back to the one place I swore I’d never go again, but this was a necessary evil. An evil I couldn’t leave hanging over me, not knowing what would happen if I didn’t nip it in the bud.

The apartment building came into view, and I pulled into my usual spot then switched the engine off. I stared at the apartment door for longer than I should have. I was building it up in my head, knowing that I was about to go to war. If this backfired on me—no, I couldn’t think like that. I had to keep my head screwed on and my mission at the forefront of my mind.

So I reached over, snapped the glove compartment open, and exited my car, determination driving me toward the apartment I’d grown up in. I didn’t bother knocking, instead I pushed my key in the door, jerking back as the smell of puke and sweat smacked me in the face.

Now that I wasn’t here to make sure the place was clean, it had gone to shit. Furniture was scattered around, bottles and food wrappers leading the way to the sofa where Mom slept.

“Wake up,” I told her, kicking the base of the sofa. She groaned, but she didn’t move. “Wake up,” I said, louder this time.

“Fuck off.” She rolled over, nearly falling off the edge of the cushions, but she saved herself at the last second.

“We need to talk,” I told her, swiping my arm over the table separating the sofa and where the TV used to be. It hadn’t taken her long to sell it. “Now.”

“Go away,” she screeched, her body snapping up right. “I don’t want you here.”

I raised a brow, my lips quirking on one side. “I don’t give a fuck what you want.” I clenched my teeth, trying to keep my cool. I was here for a reason. I needed her pliable. “We need to talk,” I repeated, trying not to show my frustration. I sighed. “I’ll give you cash.”

That had her eyes widening. I was bargaining with the devil, but I’d be the real winner when I left this apartment.

“Talk then,” she snapped out, sitting upright. She pushed her greasy, matted hair out of her face. “I ain’t got all day.” She licked her cracked lips, her shaking hands telling me she was already in w

ithdrawal.

Sitting on the edge of the coffee table, I pulled in a deep breath, and tried to figure out where to start. “Go to rehab.” She laughed, the sound like nails on a chalkboard.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “Is that all you came to say? If so,” she held her hand out, “give me my money and get the fuck out.”

I stared at her—really stared at her—and wondered why she was like this. I couldn’t remember a time when she was sober. She’d never even tried to stop drinking. She loved her life the way it was.

“The offer is always there,” I told her, gripping the papers in my hand tighter. “If you ever want to go to rehab and get sober, I’ll pay for it.”

She grinned, her yellowing teeth flashing at me. “Nah. I’ll just take the money.”

My nostrils flared. She didn’t care that she had three kids she’d abandoned the moment they’d come into this world. She didn’t care that she was alone. She didn’t care about anything.

I held up the papers. “Sign these and I’ll leave.”

She raised a brow, snatching the documents from me, and scanned them. “Nope.” She threw them down on the floor. “Ain’t no way I’m signing them.”

My anger blasted off like a firework, loud and blinding. “You fuckin’ will sign them.” I grabbed them off the floor, spinning around as she lifted off the sofa and walked toward the kitchen. I wasn’t letting her go though. There was no way I was leaving this apartment until she’d signed them. I wouldn’t have her hanging over our heads. Snapping my hand around her arm, I halted her. “You’ve got no goddamn choice but to sign them.”