Page 70 of Shot For Mercy

“Why not?” Matty chuckles, and I feel dead inside. “It’s the truth.”

“You don’t mean it,” Emiliano whispers, yet I can still hear it. The house is so silent. “You can’t.”

“Oh, but I do,” he says slowly. “How does it feel to have my scraps, Dad? I had my cock in him first, so many fucking times. Do you really think he doesn’t think about that? Me? Are you that fucking delusional?”

I flinch, then hear the slap from a mile away. Emiliano hit him. Oh, fuck, this isn’t good.

“Shut the fuck up!” Emiliano growls. “Don’t talk about him.”

I hear flesh connecting with flesh, and I get up from my place on the floor and rush out to the living room. Matteo is shaking his hand out, and Emiliano is sprawled out on the couch. Not one to give up, he gets up quickly, rubbing at his jaw. I rush toward them, ready to go against Matteo, when he turns to me with sad eyes. It does something to my heart. I don’t like seeing him this way, and I hate that we did this to him.

“It’s true, right?” Matty asks me, and my heart breaks just a little more. “You still think about me?”

“Yes.” I nod slowly, and Emiliano flinches. “But not in the way you want me to…”

“Then how?” Matteo asks, his voice breaking.

“I think of you as my best friend who’s had my heart for forever,” I whisper, “and how I want you back. But I don’t think of you romantically, Matty. Not anymore.”

“I fucking hate you,” Matteo growls. “Both of you.”

“I know.” My eyes sting, and a tear trails down my face. Matty watches it as it trails down my neck and soaks my shirt. “I’msosorry.”

“But you don’t take it back?” he asks, voice hoarse. “You won’t leave him for me?”

I shake my head. “No, Matty. I can’t.”

“Let me guess.” He chuckles. “You’re going to say you’re in love with him.”

My bottom lip trembles as more tears trail down my face, but I nod. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop fucking saying that!” he shouts. “It means nothing to me. Fuck your apologies, and fuckyou, Cole!”

I flinch. “I deserve that.”

“No, Cole,” he says through gritted teeth. “You deserve worse.”

Matteo looks between Emiliano and I, then trains his gaze on my face. He shakes his head and goes to the elevator without another word. He doesn’t even say goodbye before leaving, unceremoniously hitting the button to close the door. Not that I planned on chasing him. He has to know that. While I love him with all my heart, I have Emiliano to think of, and I don’t want to put our relationship at risk. I can’t—won’t.

Emiliano sits on the couch, but I can’t bring myself to do the same. Instead, I let myself crumble to the floor, my knees hitting the hardwood. Sobs wrack my body, and before I can process what’s happening, Emiliano is suddenly by my side, enveloping me in his strong arms. I don’t know how long I cry for, only that my body is exhausted by the end of it.

Matteo is never going to forgive me; that much is obvious now. I should’ve seen it before, and maybe I had, but I was definitely in denial. Selfishly, I thought that after everything we’ve been through, he’d find it in his heart to forgive me. But do I really deserve it? I don’t think I do. I know I don’t. It still doesn’t stop me from hoping and praying that it happens one day. Even if it takes twenty years. I have to hold on to hope.

I straddle Emiliano against the couch, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I can’t breathe in through my nose, and I wish I could smell him right now, let his scent soothe me. Instead, I settle for his warmth. He rubs soothing circles on my back, and I press a kiss to his throat. He needs comfort as badly as I do, if not more. I may be losing my best friend, but he’s losing his son. The one person he’s dedicated his whole life to. I know it can’t be easy—and yet he chose me. Every day he’s choosing me. I can’t take that for granted. So, as much as it pains me to do so, I stand up on shaky legs and offer him my hand. He stands up too, and I lead him to the bedroom wordlessly.

Stripping Em’s clothes and my own, I let them fall to the ground. We can clean them up later. Right now, I need to be in his arms. I need to seek comfort in the only way I know how. It feels wrong to push for more, so when we’re finally lying down, I just let him spoon me and close my eyes—pretending to fall asleep. Eventually, Em’s breathing slows down, deepening, and I know he fell asleep. I don’t have the same luck, though. My eyes hurt from all the crying, yet I can’t seem to stop. I can’t breathe in through my nose still, and my pillow is soaked from my tears.

I snuggle closer to Emiliano until our bodies are plastered together. His skin is hot, and I know we’re going to be sweating soon, but I can’t bring myself to move away. This is the only place I feel safe right now. The only place where my pain is a little dulled. I don’t want to think about it anymore; if I do, I’ll keep crying. So this time, when I close my eyes, I let sleep take me under. I’ll deal with the repercussions of today after I wake up. Until then, I let myself be held through the pain.

Emiliano will make the pain better.

He always does.

It’s been five days since Matteo came home and everything went to shit, and things have been tense between Emiliano and I. We ended up talking about Natasha and hashing things out, but the reason for the tension between us has been due to Matty. I have accepted his need to protect Natasha, even if I don’t agree with it. Matteo has yet to come forward and tell us what he wants to do, not that I expect it anymore. Maybe he’ll try to contact her on his own, though I don’t think it’s a good idea. What if she rejects him? Emiliano told me she’s never wanted anything to do with Matty, and if she lets him down, if she disappoints him, I’ll kill her myself, regardless of what Emiliano says. But for now, I won’t defy him. It won’t end well for me.

I have to have a good reason to slit her throat, and I’m hoping she’ll give me one. Maybe that makes me vindictive, but I’m not excited by the prospect of Emiliano’s past lover being near us. What if she reaches out to him? Will he entertain her? I bet if it had to do with Matteo, he would. It makes me irrationally jealous to think about it, and I know I need to fucking stop. I just can’t. For whatever reason, I’m stuck on this.

Now that Andrey is dead, I’m staying hidden. Em doesn’t want me to take any chances just in case they’re watching and waiting—which we’re sure they are. The Pakhan is probably going crazy, but they know this building is off limits, so they haven’t tried it.Yet. I bet if they get desperate enough, they’ll attack regardless of where I am or the repercussions of it. But I’m tired of being in the stupid penthouse. There’s only so much I can do with my time. I’ve tried reading, watching movies, a new TV show, and even baking. None of that has made me feel better, especially because Emiliano has been going to work, leaving me alone. Not that I expected anything different. He has businesses to take care of. It’s just that I’m going insane.

---