Page 35

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Mya

I didn’t know how I felt being tossed over a fence like a sack of potatoes. But it was better than being dead.

“Let’s go,” Joseph said as I landed in his arms, tossed there by Dario who was still on the other side of the fence. It was at least six feet high. I couldn’t see him from where I had landed.

Joseph sat me down on my feet, grabbed my hand, and started pulling me toward the neighbor’s backyard.

“But what about Dario?”

“He’ll figure it out.”

“We can’t just leave him,” I found myself dragging my feet. “We have to go back!”

“And die?” Joseph said pulling me toward my neighbor’s ancient Cadillac. “That’s not happening on my watch. Dario would kill me.”

The irony of his words wasn’t wasted on me. He opened the passenger side of the Cadillac, shoved me in, apologized, and said, “Buckle up.”

My seat belt was barely on before I watched him hotwire the car and get it moving with ridiculous speed.

I felt like he was driving on two wheels as he backed the car out. A neighbor appeared looking out the window, eyes growing wide as we reversed.

“My car!” I heard him yell, and then he hit the ground. Bullets were flying. I ducked low just as my window exploded.

Screaming, I lowered myself as far as possible into the seat. I felt like I was going to throw up as the car began to spin and then abruptly stopped. I felt the door open and something hit the seat hard.

“Go, go, go!”

It was Dario, gun in hand, bleeding, looking like he’d survived a war. And he probably had.

I dared to glance behind us as Joseph sped off, and saw men outside the doctor’s house, their guns drawn…and then I heard it…the loud boom.

I couldn’t see the explosion, but I could see the smoke.

“You blew up their car?” Joseph asked, looking pleased.

Dario wiped a hand down his face. “I figured that would buy us some time. The doctor kept a good liquor selection in the house.”

He reached forward and placed a hand covered in blood on my shoulder. “You okay?”

I stared at him, unable to speak. He looked bad. The worst I’d ever seen him.

He looked like he’d been thrown into a wall. One side of his face was starting to swell, and there was a cut over his left eye. The blood on his hands…I wondered if it was his own.

He still had a gun in one hand, as if he wasn’t quite yet sure if he should put it down. I didn’t know what to say. I felt faint. My head started to spin.

“Mya!”

I felt his hands on my face, and I came to. He was staring at me, worry and fear in his eyes. Had I ever seen him look afraid before?

How many times had he risked his life to save my own? Could I trust him? I really didn’t know.

But I wanted to. I was so tired.

Even while I was at the safe house, I knew it was only a matter of time before someone found me. I knew that my time was limited, and yet I had still tried to believe that I would be okay. Now I knew I had been delusional.

They wouldn’t stop until they killed Dario, and probably me, as well. I didn’t think I was the main point of whatever game Matteo was playing.

He helped me get out of the house to get Dario to let his guard down. He knew Dario would look for me and Dario had taken the bait.

He’d almost gotten himself killed because of me. And how would I have felt if they had succeeded? Did I still blame Dario for what was happening? Yes.

But did I want him to die because of it? Did I want the father of my child dead? The answer was a resounding no.

But this lifestyle, this man, he only knew violence and death.

Could I really believe what he’d said that he had given up everything…that he was dismantling his empire…for me…for us?

Could a man addicted to control and violence ever really change? It was doubtful. But it was clear, he wasn’t my enemy. Then what was he to me?

I didn’t trust myself to answer that question.

Slowly, I pulled away from him and his eyes became guarded again as he settled back against the back seat.

We drove in silence, no one speaking a word, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The only sound was the wind as it came in the broken windows of the car. It was so strong that the car seemed to struggle to stay in its lane.

I heard Dario wince behind me as he attempted to stretch out in the backseat.

“We should stop. You need medical attention. Maybe there’s an urgent care or something similar nearby. Joseph?—”

“No. No stopping. We need to change cars and keep moving.”

“But you’re clearly hurt?—”

“And I said, I’ll be fine. Joseph, it’s time to ditch this car.”

“Yes, sir.”

I wanted to argue. The swelling hadn’t gone down and his breathing didn’t sound good to me. He needed to see a doctor. “Dario, please…you could be bleeding internally?—”

“In which case, you’ll be a very rich widow.” His words were labored. “That would be a win-win for you, right?”

I winced. I didn’t want him dead. I had never wanted him dead.

I turned away and looked out the window, staring at nothing.

Did he think I was heartless? Was he right? I blamed him for all this but he’d been just as much in the crossfire because of me as I was because of him.

But there I was, shifting blame again. Not taking accountability.

If he hadn’t stopped me from killing Nico, I would either be dead, or serving a life sentence right now.

I’d been the one to get the gun. I was the one who had set all of this in motion. It was time I accepted part of the blame. And if I hadn’t been so hellbent on getting away from him, he wouldn’t be practically bleeding to death in the back seat of a car.

And that was a hard pill to swallow.

We drove by a gas station and watched as a woman left her car unattended with a cute little dog in the front seat…keys and all.

“Guess we found our next ride,” Joseph said nonchalantly. He pulled up next to the car and quickly got out. “Let’s move,” he said to me.

He grabbed Dario by his arm, and I heard Dario bite back a curse as Joseph pulled him out of the car and deposited him into the backseat of the woman’s car. Her dog looked on curiously, not making a sound.

I climbed into the front seat just as I heard someone yelling out, “Hey, that’s my car! And my dog!”

Before she could get another word out, we were speeding away.

“Fuck, Joseph. Not the dog, too. Let it out,” Dario said from the back seat.

I glanced at him. He was leaning against the door, with his eyes closed, the dog steadily trying to lick the blood from his hands.

Joseph stopped abruptly, tossed the pup in front of someone’s yard, and sped away.

“The dog will be okay,” Joseph said, reassuringly. I honestly thought he said it to reassure himself.

I guess even mobsters have a soft spot for dogs.

We drove in silence for hours. Every time I turned to look back, Dario’s eyes met mine. He didn’t try to talk to me.

He just studied me, as if trying to read how I felt by staring at my face.

I didn’t know what to say or do, but I knew that I was scared.

Not for just myself and the baby. For all of us. We were outnumbered and running for our lives. That much was clear. Dario was no longer in control of the situation.

One wrong move and we would be killed.

It was a sobering situation.

“Boss,” Joseph said, “I think we should ditch the car and set up camp somewhere else. What do you think?”

“You’re right. There’s a river not too far from here. We’ll set up camp somewhere near there. Dump the car. Go to town, get some blankets, water, and stuff. Come find us. You know the rest.”

The rest? What did that mean?

To my surprise, Joseph slowed down and let us out near a patch of woods.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I said as I stood there with Dario, watching the car drive away.

“Let’s get off the road before someone finds us.”

Without waiting for me, he limped away and I followed behind him, both of us slow and silent.

“You should really see someone. I don’t like the way you’re holding your shoulder.”

“It’s just sore,” he said.

I followed him deeper into the woods. “How is Joseph going to find us?”

Dario seemed to be ignoring me and then said, “Don’t worry about Joseph. He’ll find us.”

It was getting dark, and I was tired. Dario finally must have noticed because he looked back at me and said, “I guess we’ll make camp here tonight.”

And so, we did. Finding a bare spot to sit, I settled down next to a rock and sighed deeply. We were only a step away from a river, and I felt the desire to get clean.

“Go ahead,” he said as if reading my mind. I went toward the river and splashed cool water on my face. A million thoughts raced through my mind. I tried to silence them all.

I could feel the baby turn and gasped for a second, catching my breath.

“You okay?” Dario was there in a moment. Even in his weakened state, I hadn’t heard him approach.

“Yes, just the baby’s doing gymnastics in my belly,” I said with a little laugh, “At least that’s what it feels like.”

Dario didn’t say a word. I looked up at him and found him frowning in the direction of my belly.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded, “Fine.”

I felt weird in his presence now that the adrenaline had worn off. I felt responsible for his wounds. If I hadn’t been so headstrong, so determined to get out, I would have seen that I was walking into a trap.

I’d thought I was smarter than Matteo and his men, that I could outwit them, and instead, I’d walked Dario into a trap that could have gotten the three of us and the baby killed. That made me think, where was Joseph?

Dario walked toward the river, carefully bending down and bringing his hands to the water to splash it on his face.

The blood slowly washed off his hands. As he undid the button on his shirt, he bit back a wince.

“Here, let me help,” I found myself saying.

He didn’t say a word, he just let me slowly undress him. When I finished unbuttoning his shirt, I pushed it down past his shoulders. There was bruising forming across his torso and his chest.

He went to shrug off his shirt but couldn’t.

I found myself rushing to help him. I pushed the shirt down and gently removed it, and that’s when I saw the gash that seemed to circle his left shoulder blade.

“Oh my God, “I breathed.

“Is it that bad?” he sounded like he didn’t really care, as if we were talking about the weather instead of the gash that would possibly get infected and kill him.

“Yes,”

He shrugged, or attempted to.

“How did this happen?”

“The wire fence in the backyard. I fell against it, wrestling with one of Matteo’s men.”

I looked at it. It was an ugly gaping wound. “You need to get this looked at.”

“Joseph will come back with supplies. I’ll be fine until then.”

He settled up against a tree and laid his head back like he was he sleeping. How could he sleep in such pain?

I bit my lip, holding back a sob, but apparently, I hadn’t been too successful. His eyes shot open, and he stared at me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said and then immediately started to cry. I blamed it on the adrenaline wearing off, my hormones, and my life just being an utter mess.

I covered my face and just sobbed, until I heard him softly say, “Come here.”

“No, you’re hurt.”

“Mya, come here.”

“And it’s all my fault!”

“Mya,” he sighed, “Just come here.”

Feeling ridiculous, I shuffled over to him and settled against the tree next to him. “None of this is your fault.”

“If I hadn’t left?—”

“They would have still come for me,” he finished. He took my hand and kissed the back of it, then he wrapped his good arm around me. “Get some rest.”

The next thing I knew, I was asleep with my face in the crook of his neck. When my own snoring startled me awake, I found him staring down at me.

I sat up instantly, “How long was I asleep?”

“More like passed out…just about ten minutes.”

“Is Joseph here yet?”

“In this darkness, it’ll take him a little while to find us?—”

“But—”

“But he will.”

I lowered my head back to his shoulder. His warmth was comforting. He reached up and touched my face. The feel of his fingertips against my face further comforted me.

I looked into his eyes. There was desire there, and something else. Something else that I was afraid to name.

When his lips lowered to mine, I didn’t pull away. I wanted this. I wanted him.

I figured he was in no condition to—but then he used his one good arm to pull me into his lap, and I found that he was hard.

I knew I should have climbed off, I should have just said no, but I needed him badly.

I found myself the aggressor as I unzipped his jeans. I stroked his dick, bending down awkwardly, as low as my protruding belly allowed to lick the tip, hearing him suck in a gasp as I took as much as I could of him into my mouth.

As my mouth moved up and down his cock, I closed my eyes. Pleasing him did something to me. It made me feel powerful and strong.

When he grabbed a fistful of my hair, forcing me to take more of him into my mouth until I almost gagged, I realized that something about his strength appealed to me.

The way he took charge. The way he took what he wanted no matter what did something to me.

I loved it.

I kept sucking his dick, feeling him grow even harder inside my mouth. I knew his body now…he was close to the edge, but I needed to feel his warmth inside me.

I pulled away and stood up. He watched me with sleepy eyes as I slid out of my jeans and panties, and then I sat back down on his lap, slowly rocking against his dick, my pussy’s wetness rubbing up against him.

I leaned down and kissed him. Then I abruptly pulled away. It felt good controlling things for a change. I cupped my breasts in my own hands and offered my nipples to him one at a time.

He opened his mouth, sucking one nipple and then the other deep into his mouth. I cried out from pleasure, my nipples like hard pebbles, growing wetter from the way he tasted me.

He buried his head between my breasts, and just inhaled my scent, as if memorizing it.

“You’re torturing me,” he said as I rocked against his dick again.

He was right. I was. But I was torturing myself too.

I needed him inside me.

I rose up, spread my legs wide, and grabbed his dick, sinking down on it, until he was fully sheathed inside me.

For a moment, neither one of us moved. Then I slowly began the motion that felt as natural as breathing.

He grabbed my waist, trying to make me go faster, wanting to go deeper, but he was incapacitated. This was my moment, and his dick was mine.

I took my time, teasing the both of us, as I bopped up and down, sometimes taking in more of him and sometimes taking in less.

I felt my pussy tightening and clenching around his dick, my body prepped for coming. I stroked my own clit, as he let his mouth and tongue do amazing things to my breasts and my nipples.

And then his hand was between my legs, rubbing the little nub there, stroking it until the only sound I could hear was the roaring of blood in my ears. And then I felt the heat between my legs, as he filled me to the brim, pushing as far as he could into me as my pussy clenched around him, massaging him with my wetness, until I couldn’t tell where his dick began and my pussy ended.

And when he came, I welcomed the warmth that filled me. I welcomed everything about this man.

I collapsed against him, breathing heavily, and he stroked my back, placing kisses on my shoulder. I shivered, still sensitive from my own orgasm, feeling like every nerve in my body was being lit on fire by the feel of his warm mouth against me.

There was something so base, so primitive about how much I wanted him. It defied reason.

But it was a fact. I had never felt this way with any other man. There was something about Dario that made me feel more alive, more whole.

He gently helped me rise up and slip off him. I could barely feel my legs, but I knew I had to get dressed. I didn’t want Joseph to walk up and catch me half-naked.

I dressed quickly, not meeting Dario’s eyes, but I knew he was watching me. He always was.

Not less than ten minutes later, Joseph found us. I heard the rustling in the woods and realized that I had nothing to be afraid of when I saw the gun in Dario’s hands.

Even looking worse for wear, he had been able to make love to me and was still protecting me. I might never admit it, but he was quite a man.

Joseph came back with a bunch of camping paraphernalia, blankets, and food.

I lay down next to Dario, a million questions in my mind. I was too tired to think deeply about any of them. Today had been a trial. What was next for us?

The next morning, I got my answer. Too bad it wasn’t the answer I had wanted.

Joseph had told us that he had found a little house not too far from our little camp, so we’d made our way there. While Joseph left to find another car, Dario ventured into the small bathroom to take a quick shower and clean his wounds properly.

I didn’t want to ask how they had gotten access to the house. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if the owner came home.

It was then that I saw Dario’s phone. Or one of them. I knew he had several.

I knew his password for this one. I considered it his main phone. He’d thought I was sleeping one day in bed when I saw him enter his password.

Of course, I had memorized it. I entered it, and it worked. I was in.

I looked over toward the bathroom, not wanting him to catch me snooping through his phone.

The text messages I found didn’t read like someone who was giving it all up. Instead, just the opposite. He didn’t seem to be dismantling his empire, he seemed to be hellbent on keeping it…no matter the stakes. No matter the costs.

His last text was to someone. Most likely Matteo. And it explicitly said what I feared.

Dario and his empire weren’t going anywhere at all.