Reckless Covenant: a Second Chance Mafia Romance, page 38
“You whore!” Ryan rasps and raises his hand at me.
I cock my head. “You’re sure you want to hit The Serpent’s wife?” I ask, just as he’s about to swing at me.
“Fuck, that sounds good.” My husband’s husky voice fills me with a bit too much delight.
Ryan rethinks the move but gives me a look that used to infuse me with terror.
It doesn’t work now. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been gaining back the confidence I thought I lost, or if it’s because Vincent is here with me and I finally have hope. Now I just use Ryan’s gaze as kindling on my fire, and I want to make him burn.
“I’m a whore? Says the man who forced me to watch as he fucked another woman.” I don’t miss the outraged gasp from one of the women in this room. “Spare me the righteous bullshit. This was our backup plan. If something went wrong and he was unable to get to me before you said I do, at least on paper it wouldn’t be legal. Your whole plan, your only plan, is ruined.”
“You’re a disgrace to this family!” my mother shouts from the pews, as my father suddenly charges out.
He stops in the middle of the aisle and looks straight at me.
“I knew you were a lost cause. Always so rebellious, always so disrespectful, but I never thought you would do something like this behind mine and your mother’s backs. You ruined everything, as you’ve done since the moment you were born.”
My father perches himself on that high horse and it almost makes me laugh. But when he reaches inside his coat and aims his hand right at me, I realize I’m staring at the barrel of a gun. Maybe a second passes, and two consecutive pops split my eardrums, the sound bouncing off the walls of the church, and blood splatters all over me. It adds to the carnage already painting my skin and dress.
The first pop knocked his hand away and the gun fell. The second one was the fatal blow. I catch the moment of disbelief in his gaping eyes. That very moment just before the light goes out, when realization strikes. Then he’s gone.
He crumbles onto his knees, then falls face down onto the floor, on a loud crack as his head makes contact with the stone.
A blood-curdling shriek makes me roll my head in discomfort, as my mother launches herself on top of my father’s lifeless body. The man who oppressed her for so long is gone, and all she sees is loss, not freedom. Jesus. How fucking pathetic.
As her screams still fill me with exasperation, she reaches somewhere under my father’s body, and when she pulls her hand out, that gun is yet again aimed right at me. My muscles stiffen.
I expected this from Father, but not from her. Not my own mother.
When another pop makes my body flinch, the bottom of my dress gets splattered with yet another shade of red. Then my mother falls face first over her husband.
Somewhere in the backs of my eyes, I can feel a subtle burn as I watch her body go limp. Did I have hope? Did I think that without my father, she would be a different woman? The one she suppressed during the years she spent under his iron fist… maybe.
Did I think that she would finally… love me?
I did.
She was my mother.
My gaze flickers to my brother, whose gun is no longer aimed at anyone. He looks up at me, and we stare at each other for a few moments. It hurts.
It hurts that it had to come to this. That we were nothing to the people who birthed us. It hurts that nothing could be done to save any of them. That they didn’t love us as normal parents do, even though, somewhere deep down, we still had hope.
I realize that I have no idea who shot either of them. Was it my brother? Was it Vincent?
The idea that my brother was forced to shoot either of his parents fills my stomach with sickness. No matter how horrible these two people were, no matter if they deserved it, killing a parent carries a different weight on your soul.
Do I want to know?
Does it matter?
It does. I will have to find out, because if it was my brother, I refuse to let him carry this weight on his own. I bear the responsibility too, even if I didn’t pull the trigger.
I see movement in the corner of my eye, and I realize there is only one man left in this massacre. Slowly turning, I swipe my gaze from my parents’ dead bodies to the man I blame for most of this. Then I take a small step toward him.
“What now, darling? Your plan is ruined. You have no money, no life, no one who cares. You’ll lose your house, your cars, racketeers are on your tail. You’re done.” I get closer, but this time, he takes the same step back. “Almost done.”
“I’m going to make you pay for this.” He grabs my arm, his fingers digging hard into my bicep. “You’ll pay for destroying my life. You’ve been the poison in my blood since the first moment I laid eyes o—”
Before he finishes the sentence, I pull out the letter opener, and with a hard swing upwards, I sink it under his chin. In between those muscles that fill the hollow space inside his mandible, where it connects with the throat. His mouth falls open with shock, and I can see the sharp metal inside it. It pierced his tongue, hitting the roof of his mouth, and blood pours out of it with a speed I didn’t quite expect.
For those few moments, the horror keeping him from reacting to the pain is utterly satisfying. I was expecting screams, begging, swearing, lunging at me, but for those few moments, it’s silent.
Then chaos descends as he hauls me to him, his hand still gripping my upper arm, and I pull the metal out of his mouth before he manages to. When his hand reaches for the letter opener, I knee the bastard in the balls. The moment he instinctively bends over, I grab him by the bow tie, hold him tight, and sink the motherfucking metal straight into his left ear as hard and fast as I can.
The screams that follow are so visceral, I would feel sorry for him if this wasn’t exactly what the asshole deserves.
Only, he doesn’t fucking die!
My breathing quickens, my whole body taken over by a raging heat that feels a lot like desperation, and I lunge back at the metal. I push his hands away as he tries to pull it out, so I can pry it out myself and shove it in all over again.
He needs to fucking die already!
But an arm wraps around me, pulling me back against a warm body that smells of enticing bergamot, and he holds me so tight. In such comfort. My lungs seem to slow down their effort, smothering whatever fire started inside of me. Then another arm extends on the other side of me. At the end of it a gun is aimed at Ryan, writhing in pain in front of us.
My fidgeting stops.
The end is in sight.
I sigh and sink back into the man who keeps me safe.
“End it.” Two words I whisper, and the pop of the silenced gun sounds like sharp metal on metal, sinking through molasses.
Just like that… it’s all over.
He falls at our feet, limp. Blood puddles underneath his head, spreading farther and farther.
I hear voices around me. Orders and instructions. There’s movement too. Only, I’m stuck here, watching him, unable to pry my eyes away.
Just in case… Just in case he somehow gets up.
Just in case I’m imagining it. Dreaming it. Hallucinating…
Just in case it isn’t over.
“Come on, Little Eve. Let’s go.”
“What if—?”
“It’s over. He’s gone. They all are. Just as I promised you.” Vincent pulls me away gently, and my body complies.
Yet even as I move, my eyes are still stuck on the limp man. Blackness fills my vision, blocking my view of him, then two warm hands grip the sides of my face and guide my head up. The most beautiful, dark and vicious black eyes meet me, carrying more emotion than I thought possible.
“It’s all done, Morrigan. All done.” He crushes his lips to mine, hard and possessive, holding me there for a moment longer than needed.
When he breaks away, leaving me panting for air, there is something in his eyes I cannot quite place.
Is it relief?
Or is it worry?
CHAPTER 35
VINCENT
FOR THE FIRST TIME IN weeks… months… maybe even years, I wake up and the world isn’t spinning aimlessly. The dust has settled. The woman who’s haunted my dreams for far too long is wrapped tight in my arms.
I brought her to my home last night. Mamaw June was in the house, riddled with worry. Maddox called to tell her I’m alive as soon as he and the guys found me. But she didn’t see me for herself until I came home.
She stopped in front of me, red eyes still wet with tears, and couldn’t bring herself to come too close. Instead, she took Morrigan by the shoulders, looked her over, and pulled her to her chest. She hugged her so tight, until my Little Eve broke down. They stood there as she finished crying, and I felt completely helpless. In awe too. I’m used to reckless Morrigan. I’m used to her anger, her violence, her outbursts, and her sass. But seeing this vulnerability, after the actual victory showed her in such a different light, it’s a different type of strength.
Mamaw June made sure we ate, then in her true fashion, quite literally sent us to shower and to bed before she left. Like we were nothing but children, not two grown-ass adults who pretty much came from battle. Morrigan still had blood on her face, even though we tried to wash it off in the back room of the church, as our clean up team were working their magic on the church. Carter and the guys were handling the leftover people. Luckily, most of them were useless security.
We left everything in order for Father Brown, but nothing can scrub those memories from his mind. Safe to say, I don’t think we’re ever going to be welcome in church.
As Mamaw was leaving my house, she stopped and turned in the doorway, both pain and relief shining in her eyes. In that moment, I actually felt sorry for the life I pulled her into.
“I can’t ask you to stop this, to choose a different path anymore. This is it for you, I understand that, but I want you to know I’m proud of you. I’m sorry you had to do it, but I am proud of you.”
I was expecting the first part of that speech, but not the second.
“You did all of this for her. You did it for her life, for love, you did it to save her. But I know you did it for me too. You used that darkness that dominates you for selfless reasons. I hear how people speak of you in this city. They say you’re evil. You’re not. You never were. You’re simply strong enough to make the hard choices.”
Then she finally hugged me. She wrapped her arms tight around me, my aching muscles hurting, but I couldn’t tell her that. She thought I was dead.
Just as Morrigan did.
When I went upstairs, I found my wife standing in front of the shower, still dressed, just looking at it. At that point, I don’t think it had hit her yet that it was over. Truly over. That she is free.
She’s been living behind a wall for the last year, at least. She’s thrown behind it all the shit her family put her through, then her boyfriend. Even in university, she pretended that all was well, and that a different life wasn’t actually waiting for her when she returned home. As she stood before that shower, for the first time ever, she was truly free. And I don’t think she knew what to do with herself.
So I took over for her.
I undressed her whilst she watched me, her eyes never leaving me. Then I undressed myself as the room was steaming up and pulled her with me under the spray. I washed her body, cleansed the blood off her, and then her beautiful red curls. There was nothing sexual about it; I just needed to care for her. Then I washed myself, and just as I was about to get us out, she wrapped her arms around my waist, stopping me. She pressed her head against my chest, and… held me.
Nothing more. Nothing less. She just held me.
I thought that it was only her who needed this intimacy, this comfort. As she squeezed just a little bit tighter, the memories of the day started flooding me. One by one, they poured in—the attack inside my house, the gunfire, being struck unconscious and taken to Boseman’s safe-house. Yes, I got out, but not unscathed. I’m a bit broken and bruised. I’m pretty sure I have a few fractured ribs, but I got out.
Because all I could think of when I was tied to that fucking chair was Morrigan. I didn’t wait for all those years just so it could end in a few hours.
Then there’s church. My fucking father is finally dead. Her family, too, and Holt. Motherfucking Holt is dead. All of this didn’t just end for her. This was the end of a large chapter of my life as well.
This wasn’t just her revenge, it was mine too.
So we just held each other under the warm spray of the shower, waiting as it washed away some of our sins, and some of our sorrows. I think it worked. We fell asleep instantly after we got out. Both naked, skin still damp, glistening in the moonlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Now, as I watch the sun streaming in, it really does feel as though it’s the first day of the rest of my life. As cliché as it sounds.
And I can’t fucking wait to start living it.
Hopefully, with this vixen by my side.
“Mmm…” she moans softly, rubbing her cheek on that soft spot between my chest and shoulder.
When she opens her eyes and finds me looking straight at her, she stops mid inhale.
The seconds that pass feel more like time itself stands still.
Desperation seems to fill her all of a sudden, and she grabs me by the hair, tugging at me to meet her lips. She crushes them harshly to mine, until they ache against my teeth, but I don’t stop her. She only releases me for a split second to take a breath, before she dives back in, and kisses me hard and fast, frantically pulling at my hair. My scalp aches, yet I can’t help but smile through these urgent kisses.
When she finally releases me, I realize she’s smiling.
My Little Eve.
“It’s over, isn’t it?” Hope shines so fucking bright in her eyes, the grin is more vivid than ever.
“It is. You’re free to do, well, everything.”
I rub a thumb over her smile, because I forgot how beautiful the genuine one looks on her. When I run my fingers through her red locks, she hums softly and pulls herself to my lips again.
“Can I start by doing you?” she whispers against me.
The laughter that bursts out of me gains me a hard slap on my chest.
“Maybe not, then.” She tries to pull away from me, but in one swift move, I yank her whole body on top of mine.
She scrambles to prop herself up and straddle me but tries to push away.
“Oh no, don’t you dare. You already offered. You can’t take it back,” I tease.
“Watch me,” she bites back, pursing her lips.
“Indeed, I will, Morrigan. I’m going to watch you… as you take me.”
I take her by the throat and pull her to me and shut her up with a deep kiss. I force my tongue into her mouth, battling her own, before she finally melts. Her small hands grip my throat, tightening, taking my breath away as her hips grind onto mine, her pussy getting wetter against my growing erection.
Grabbing one ass cheek, I press her harder against me as I push my hips up and swallow the sharp moan that drips out of her. Fuck… she sounds so goddamn beautiful when she’s filled with ecstasy.
I slide my hand between her ass cheeks, past her ass, and straight to her tight, wet cunt. When I slip two fingers inside of her, her back arches and she breaks our kiss as she whips her head back on a loud moan. Her lush tits push right into my face, and I don’t miss the opportunity to swipe my tongue over her sensitive nipple.
“So goddamn beautiful.”
I lick my lips, watching as she rolls her hips against mine like she’s on that stage in Metamorphosis. My cock swells between us at the stunning sight. And when her eyes drop down to mine, the flames of fucking Hell itself stare back at me.
“Fuck me, Serpent.”
That smile spells menace, and the Morrigan I know, the one she never lets out for long enough, comes to play.
I pull my fingers out of her, grip my cock, and guide the head to the wet center of her. The tip of it is barely in, when in one long stroke, she drops down the length of me. Balls fucking deep.
“Goddamnit!” I release her throat and grab her ass as my own back arches.
I push myself so fucking deep inside of her, I think I saw Hell, Heaven, and goddamn fucking Valhalla, all rolled into one.
She doesn’t waste time. I’m holding on for dear life so I don’t come right here, right now, and she just fucks me with no care in the world. She rises, then slams down onto me with such harsh movements, I swear I can feel the end of her on the tip of my dick. But she’s lost in the pleasure, probably a bit of pain, too, and all I can do is hold on to her hips. She leans back, propping herself on my thighs, and lets her head fall back, her long hair tickling the skin of my legs. Then she fucks me so roughly, the only way I can describe it is her using me to get off.
I’m her goddamn toy right now.
She uses me for her own pleasure, rolling her hips in all and every direction it suits her, and I’m just enjoying the fucking ride.
And what a ride it is.
Her moans fill my bedroom. A sinful song along with the slapping of our skin. Her cunt is so damn tight around me, especially when she does that wicked thing where she squeezes as she lifts herself up, and my tip is the only part of me inside of her.
My fingers bruise her hips, but as my grip tightens, her movements are more vicious. Her moans are louder, her cunt tighter. The pain seems to fuel her.
As her heaving breaths show exhaustion, I reach over and grab a fistful of hair, then pull her to my chest. I grip her ass cheek in one hand, and brutally thrust up into her. She screams against my skin and sinks her teeth into my shoulder.
“Fuck, Little Eve!” I growl, fucking her through the pain in my flesh.
“More,” she moans as she drags her tongue over the edge of my ear.
