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And I hated my father for being a coward and keeping it to himself.
Most of all, I hated myself for not doing it sooner.
“What are we going to do?” I asked softly.
“It’s just two dead soldiers,” he said. “They’ll get over it.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I stormed across the room, pacing back and forth. “You’re acting like it’s no big deal that you killed them.”
“Cullen was there,” he said, watching me.
“And? Why do I care?”
“He saw what happened. He’ll tell Colm.”
“Good for you then. I guess they’ll know that you only murdered two people because they tried to murder you first.”
He shrugged, gesturing vaguely in the air. “It makes a difference.”
“Not to me.” I stared at him violently. “I want this war to end. And I want to be free. How the hell am I going to do either of those things when you’re killing people?”
He took a breath and let it out. He scratched at his head and I stared at the muscles in his arms, then down to his defined chest and abs, and had to rip my eyes back up to his face. He smirked at me, like he knew what I was thinking, the bastard, the pretty monster.
“Marry me,” he said, walking toward me slowly. “Be my wife. Let me keep that baby growing inside of you. Let me take care of whatever you need.”
“Stop killing my family,” I whispered as he stopped inches in front of me.
“I promise I’ll stop killing them.” Then he kissed me gently, his lips delicious and soft against mine.
I pulled away. “If I do this, it’s to end the war. It’s to have leverage over Colm and that’s it. You have to make the Don tell the rest of your family to stop killing Healys. We need a ceasefire.”
“All right,” he said, nodding slowly as I disentangled myself from him with some effort. “I’ll make him promise.”
“Good,” I said, walking away. I felt on edge, like an electric current ran through my limbs. “I have to make a hundred phone calls.”
“Wait,” he said, following me. He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back against him. I didn’t bother trying to struggle—he was bigger than me, and I knew he could throw me down onto that bed and pin me there with ease if he wanted.
“What?” I asked. “How much harder do you need to make this?”
He kissed me again, harder this time, tongue sliding against mine. I moaned into that kiss, damn him. He needed to make it a lot harder, the bastard.
“We’re going to make it official tomorrow,” he whispered. “The Don will bring a priest. We’ll sign some papers, say some words.”
“The wedding of my dreams.” I glared at him, hated him, and loved his hands on my hips and his lips inches from mine.
“There won’t be a white dress,” he said. “But I’ll get you a ring. And after that, we’ll finish this war without blood.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
I stood on my toes and kissed him. “Don’t lie to me again,” I said and tore myself away, as much as I wanted to stay right there in his arms.
“No white dress,” he repeated. “No flowers, no bullshit, but tomorrow, little Sam, you’re going to be all mine.”
I felt his eyes on me as I left his room and slammed his door shut behind me.
I cried as I walked back to my room. Not because the thought of marrying him didn’t sound good—it did so much that it frightened me—but because I knew that after all this, I could never go home. There was no more home waiting for me.
I had something else. I had Matteo, and I’d give myself over to him if it meant saving more lives in the process.
No choice, never any choice, except for him.
11
Matteo
Sam stared out the window of my truck as I navigated through the suburbs, heading east toward a place called Glenside. It was an old neighborhood, built out in the ‘20s when rich city folks wanted a little vacation in the summer, and helped by the train line that ran up through it. The houses were small and packed close together, but once upon a time they were the getaways of the wealthiest. Now it was a working-class neighborhood, and the irony of that wasn’t lost on me as I pulled into the small downtown area.
It was a cute place. The bank looked original, with big glass doors and a tall, peaked roof. The shops were small and cramped, and I parked along the curb outside of a place called the Glenside Pub. I got out but Sam hesitated, staring out at me before finally following.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “I don’t want to go in there. I’m not sure what Colm’s going to do.”
