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Or maybe…maybe he knows I’ve been looking into Aaron Williams. Since he told us that he saw him in Stoneview, I’ve been asking around. I asked people from NSC, I asked people who fight at the Death Cage, I asked guys from N.S. High. Shit, I even asked people from the Kings’ Crew. The guy is like a ghost.
If someone told Bianco I was looking for the man he thinks is killing his most trusted soldiers…
Shit.
I slowly fall to my knees in my own foyer and wince as they hit the black and white polished tiles.
“A little birdie told me you weren’t taking my threats seriously. Tell me they’re wrong.”
“They’re wrong,” I say through gritted teeth.
Control yourself. It’s the only thing you still have control over.
“Lie down on your front.”
“Mateo,” I argue. “Let’s talk.”
The only response I get is his gun shoving my shoulder. So I execute. The tiles are cold against my cheek, and I’m instantly thrown back to the times he would crush my head against the marble floor of his villa. I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again.
It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.
He’s not going to kill me. Of course he’s not, but the pain I know he’s capable of inflicting can feel worse than death.
“Hands behind your head.”
I follow his order quickly. As long as he’s busy with me, he’s not going to ask if Ozy is home. He won’t go find her in her room where she is waiting for me with Chris.
I’m starting to understand why Nate keeps boys away from her or why he beat up Jason. If Mateo finds her with one of them, he’ll hurt her. He’ll hurt her badly and I can’t begin to imagine that.
I feel him step beside me and he’s suddenly kicking my legs apart. My breathing accelerates and it takes everything to bring it back down. Panic isn’t the solution, shutting down emotions is.
He puts his expensive, leather Oxford shoes between my shoulder blades and I can’t help the groan that escapes my lips when he squats, putting most of his weight on the leg that is on my back.
It’s getting real fucking hard to breathe, so I stay silent. There is no reasoning with him until he decides he’s done.
“Not taking my threats seriously. That’s stupid,” he chuckles sarcastically.
He throws some pictures on the floor, in front of my face. Me and Jamie on the lacrosse field after she punched Billie. Her arriving at this house with Nate. Her and her mom talking to Nate and me after the tournament. And the latest one, her leaving Luke’s house last Friday. It was a week ago, and I still haven’t heard anything from her. She’s probably staying away for good now.
Shit.
“Not taking my threats seriously and then lying about it. That’s damn suicidal. Did you really think I wasn’t going to have her followed?” He presses harder on my upper back, making me hiss. “See that position you’re in, Jake? That’s how I’m going to have your girl when all my guys take their turn on her.”
Images of Jamie in this same position make me feel sick to my stomach.
“I’ll stay away from her. I promise,” I wince.
“Do you understand the kind of danger you’re putting my organization in if you let this girl close to you?”
No. I really fucking don’t.
Bianco is the most paranoid motherfucker to live on this planet. He thinks everything and anything is a danger to hisorganization, and we all must pay the price of his sick paranoia.
“Mateo!” My sister’s voice brings both of us back to reality and my heart goes back to trying to escape my ribcage.
It was almost a shriek and I already know she’s going to speak to him in Italian by the way she pronounced his name.
“Lascialo andare, per favore.” ‘Let him go, please.’ Her Italian is so perfect. Mine isn’t because he only ever cared about teaching her.
