A Love Most Fatal (Morelli Family #1)

9. Vanessa

9

VANESSA

Nate doesn’t speak when Leo arrives with two body bags. He remains silent as we deposit the dead men in said body bags, and still doesn’t speak when Leo and I haul them into the back of the car. He just stands, blood on his hands, which are limp at his sides, and has a haunted look to his eyes. By the time Tony and the other boys have arrived to clean up the rest of the scene, he still hasn’t spoken.

I told him he could go upstairs after Leo got there, only because he looked like he was about to vomit everywhere, but he stayed. He didn’t help, mostly just stared into the middle distance, but he didn’t try to run or call the police either, which is good. I think he’s in shock.

When it’s clear that the team doesn’t need any help with the rest of the cleanup, I lead Nate into his building and up the stairs to his apartment. Leo trails a flight behind us, quiet steps so Nate won’t hear.

Nate’s hands are shaking too much to get the key in the lock, so I take them and open the door before following him in. The dog appears and circles at our feet and on second look it really is perhaps the most hideous little dog I’ve ever seen. Nate drops his suit jacket on the back of a chair, picks the ugly dog up and holds him to his chest before he begins a bit of quiet pacing.

His living room is small but cozy. There’s an old gray couch with the left cushion mostly sunk in, a multi-colored quilt that looks well-used, and a stack of DVDs on one side of the television. I also see a few candles, which is maybe why it smells so nice in here. Citrusy. There are some framed pictures on the wall, but not many. A Star Wars art print.

There’s also a baseball bat leaning against his coffee table, a small wooden one, and I would guess that’s Nate’s only form of a weapon in this apartment.

Nate stops his pacing and looks at me.

“That wasn’t a random attack,” he says, not a question.

“It wasn’t,” I agree.

“Are you an FBI agent?”

I purse my lips and shake my head.

“CIA?”

“No.”

“FDA?”

“Not that,” I say. Nate puts the dog back on the ground, and it sniffs at my heels for a moment, licks the top of my foot lightly, and settles next to me.

“Is it a secret?” Nate asks. “Like, are you undercover? Can you not tell me? Do I need to go into witness protection now?”

The smallest laugh escapes me at the absurdity of the idea. “No, you don’t have to go into witness protection. You’ll be fine.”

“So you are a spy? I won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

I open my mouth to lie to him, but close it before I can. Telling him I’m part of law enforcement might make him feel better, but it won’t keep him safe.

“Not exactly, no.”

“Did you know those guys were going to be here?”

“No,” I say, and it’s the truth. “I had no idea that would happen tonight.” I’d never seen those men before. Criminals, not from any of our circles, but Boston is a big city.

“Who were they?”

“I’m not sure.” I have a feeling I’ll be up through the night trying to answer that. I let a big breath fill my lungs and hold it for five seconds. “My job leads me to have some. . . enemies.”

“Enemies that want to kill you? What the hell kind of business are you running?”

I say nothing, though I do cross my arms and wait as he circles around the drain that is the truth about me. His brown hair is mussed from the scuffle, a patch hanging over his forehead. His eyes, previously so filled with light and humor, are wide and wary.

I remind myself that as uncomfortable as this evening must be for him, at least he’s still alive.

“Those men you called downstairs,” he nods towards the window. “They didn’t even question it. Does this shit happen often?”

I still say nothing, and it looks like he’s almost got it. It looks like the truth is at the front of his brain but he won’t let himself guess it.

His mouth falls open and he turns to me.

“Are you caught up in a gang or something?”

I don’t give any affirmation of this, but I don’t deny it either.

“Holy shit, Vanessa.” Nate comes closer to me, his voice dropping lower. “Do they have something on you? Are you trying to get out?”

I bury my face in my hands because he really wants to think the best of me. I think optimistic must be his default; he probably smiles at strangers in the grocery store.

“No, I—” I’m interrupted by a light knock on Nate’s front door, which makes Nate jump and reach for the bat. I hold a hand out to stop him from attacking and retreat to open it.

Tony pokes his head in. “All clean out there, boss. We’ll come back when the sun is out to make sure.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

He nods then looks at Nate, who is watching the exchange with trepidation and wide eyes, white showing around the whole iris. Still white-knuckling that fucking bat.

Tony sticks a hand through the door to hold a fist out to Nate.

“Good to meet you, bro,” Tony says. Nate stares at it for seconds before mechanically raising his arm to bump Tony’s fist with his. “Ah, lemme take your shirt. I’ll get the blood out of it and bring it back tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s—” Nate looks at the shirt, just realizing the stains of blood on the fabric. He looks again like he’s going to throw up. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Nah, that’s a nice shirt. My ma has good stain stuff, you’ll never know.” Tony holds out his hand, this time his palm up and open. Nate leans his bat against the wall before he tugs on his tie and unbuttons his shirt, stripping it off to reveal a tight white tee beneath and a hint of some of the muscles I knew I felt when we were making out. He’s lean and fit in a very practical way. Not like he works out for hours every day, but like he might be able to run a half marathon if he trained for a couple months.

Nate balls up the button-up and hands it over. I also give Tony the suit coat, which was another casualty to the blood.

“Thank you, Tony,” I say again, and this time he does leave, the door clicking shut behind him. I am about to say something to Nate, anything, when Tony opens the door again.

“Oh, Leo says he’s going to wait in the hall to take you home.”

“Great,” I say, and this time we listen for Tony’s steps to retreat before trying to speak again.

“Vanessa, are you?—”

“It’s not how it looks.”

“You don’t work with those guys? Those criminals?”

“They’re not criminals,” I defend, though they are. We all are. He just made it sound so dirty.

“Right, because normal, non-criminal people know how to clean up bodies and get blood stains out of clothes.” He’s whisper-yelling, and I step closer to him.

“Would you rather we left them there?”

“No, I would have rather we call the police , Vanessa. What the fuck?”

I try not to roll my eyes, but it’s fruitless. “I told you I’d handle it, and I did. I am.”

“Yes, but why wouldn’t you let the police handle it if you’re not a criminal?”

I don’t have a reasonable response to this and he knows it. Nate takes a step closer, crowding me towards the wall not unlike he had been an hour ago under very different circumstances. An hour ago, he looked at me like I was a revelation, like I could have been a goddess or some apparition.

Now, he looks horrified, and desperate to believe I’m not what he thinks I am.

I bite my lip only to remember that it was split in the fight. The sharp pain and the metallic taste make me flinch and Nate takes a breath.

“Tell me I have this wrong. Tell me I can’t call the police right now and tell them what just happened because you’re a spy, and that it’ll mess with your operation—just, don’t tell me what I think you’re saying. Don’t tell me you’re a fucking criminal. Please.”

My stomach turns knowing that I’m even worse than what he thinks. I’m not just a criminal, I’m in charge .

“It’s. . . sensitive,” I say, and after a shocked silent moment, he pushes away from the wall, from me, like I’m a curse or a plague. “Nate, listen to me.”

He can hardly look at me, his lip curled up in a sneer as he recalibrates the night, the woman I was with the truth he knows now.

“You can’t call the police,” I start in a rush, my voice belying how out of control I feel. “There’s hardly an officer in this city that’s not in somebody’s pocket and if you call this in, you will be in danger.”

I don’t mention what I’m afraid of, that he’s already in danger. That there’s already a hit on him because he was seen with me by whoever it was that was out for my head tonight.

“You need to stay safe,” I say. “I can keep you safe, but only if you keep your head low. Don’t go poking into things you don’t want to be a part of.”

He wants nothing to do with me, I can see that clearly on his face, a cocktail of disgust and regret. But I need to know that he won’t do anything stupid.

“Nate,” I grab his wrist, and he pulls back from me.

“What, because you’ll kill me if I don’t?”

His words sit heavy in the space between us until I pull back my outstretched hand and set my shoulders.

“You’re safe,” I say. I put on my best face, the one that shows nothing, the mask that’s all too familiar for me, the one I haven’t had to show him before. He watches the change, his eyes narrowing as I compose myself. “So long as you aren’t an idiot.”

I’ve opened his front door and am halfway through when he calls my name. I don’t turn because he’ll see the hope on my face if I do, but I stop.

“Whatever shit you’re involved in, keep it the hell away from me.”

Leo stands just outside the door, and his eyes are soft and sympathetic when I meet his. No doubt he heard everything.

I turn over my shoulder and peer into the apartment for the last time. I allow myself one look at Nate, his eyes full of hate and confusion.

Was trying to figure out how to get you to like me , he’d said, not even an hour ago.

I swallow the lump in my throat and nod.

“Goodbye, Nate.”

I pull his front door shut behind me and walk past Leo without acknowledging his sympathy. He knows me too well, always seen right through me, like my sisters. It’s why he’s such a good bodyguard.

“Station someone here,” I say as we descend the old staircase. “No one touches him.”

When I got home from the date with my hair still a mess and my dress ruined, my family could tell enough that I didn’t want them asking any questions. I might guess that Leo called ahead to let them know not to pry.

The next day the search began in earnest. The two men that attacked us weren’t affiliated to any clan, just non-denominational hitmen for hire. We questioned their small organization first, then let Mary take to her more unsavory methods. If threats and a good beating don’t work, then Mary with a knife usually will, and this time was no different. Twenty minutes with Mary in charge and we learned that the two men were hired by an anonymous buyer who only communicated through burner phones, and paid in cash.

Another dead end.

We let the hitmen live, and they all looked at my little sister with a terrified sort of respect. She’s small, but fierce, I don’t blame them. They won’t be trying that again, no matter how much cash someone offers them to try to off me. For letting them live, they said they’ll even do some work for free, whenever we need.

Nate is safe, so my sources say. He leaves his house for school, then returns right after, only leaving to take that dog out, and even then, only small distances around the building.

I try not to think about him and the havoc I wreaked on his life.

Four days after the attack and with no discernable movement, I gather my sisters, Leo, and my mom in the living room for a family meeting. I look at the photo of my parents on the wall, looking for answers in my dad’s eyes, which are just like mine. They yield nothing.

Sean and Cillian show up ten minutes late, fresh off some bullshit of their own they had to deal with, and I don’t wait to dive right in.

“We need to go on lockdown,” I say.

They all blink at me while this settles in.

“A bit extreme, no?” Leo asks.

“Let her talk,” Cillian chides and leans forward so his elbows sit on his knees.

It is extreme. We were kids the last time there was a lockdown. Dad didn’t tell us much about it, but a few months later, we all dressed up in our matching black dresses and attended the rat’s funeral. Perfunctory, really, since Dad was the cause of death. It was someone Dad trusted, and if he hadn’t killed him, that trust would have cost him his life.

“We need to tighten the circle, at least until we figure this out. If it’s a lower family messing with us, then we can’t give them the power of knowing our every move.”

“But if we tighten too much, they’ll suspect we’re onto them,” Mary points out.

“As far as they know, we go on business as usual. But when shit goes wrong, we need to know about it first-hand. That means showing up where we usually send someone else. Someone who could be paid off to mess with evidence.”

“That’s grunt work,” Willa says. “We’re running a business here.”

Mary is right there with her. “You want us to go to warehouses and look for clues? We’re in charge, Ness, we’re not on Scooby Doo .”

“Be nice to your sister,” Mom says, but she looks wary too.

“Do you really trust that every lower family would die for us?” I demand. “That their loyalty can’t be bought if they’re desperate enough?” Mary crosses her arms and thuds back against the couch. “I’ve narrowed our circle of trust to the people in this room, everyone else is on probation.”

“Tell us what to do, boss,” Leo says, and I’m grateful for his easy acceptance.

“Mary and Leo, you’re on visits. Clubs, fronts… Check in and tighten up loose ends. If they miss so much as a dollar on their dues, I want to know about it. Willa, I need you to make sure we’re square with our city connections. Police, DEA, Governor’s office, FBI, our guy over imports—send them gift baskets if you want, schedule lunches for me with them, offer a donation, you know them best.”

“Consider it done,” Willa says. She’s already making a list behind her eyes.

“Sean, do what you need to make sure the lackeys and construction employees are happy. Buddy up, give bonuses, whatever.”

“Right.” Sean nods, his arm still wrapped around Willa’s shoulders.

“Mom, I need you extra gossipy with the other moms. Anything you can find from them, find it.”

She pulls her shoulders back and nods.

“Cillian, run your clan as you see fit, but if you suspect someone on your side is the cause of this, make them talk,” I say.

Though we work together on many things, the Donovann family is still separate from the Morelli family, with Cillian’s own dealings just like I have mine. It’s business. But if the rot is on his side, we need to find it and cut it out before it festers.

“And when people get suspicious about us butting our noses where we usually couldn’t be bothered?” Mary asks.

“Then you say you’re doing quality assurance,” I tell her. Her attitude is getting on my nerves, and I level a stare at her. “You wanted to be in charge of enforcement, Mary, I need you to fucking enforce .”

I don’t break eye contact with Mary, her eyes shooting flames at mine. I might be terrified of a look like that if I didn’t grow up with her. We fought like cats as kids—worse as teenagers—but always came back together. We all trust each other enough to push each other, but right now I need her to trust me.

“I hear you,” I say, my voice softer. “We need to do this.”

After another tense moment, she releases a breath and looks away. She swallows her pride with a silent exhale and nods.

“You’re right,” she says. “We’ll find them.”

I give her a small smile and then let my shoulder relax from the rigid posture I’ve been maintaining.

“It’s a good idea,” Cillian says. I don’t need his assurance, but it feels good to have it.

“It’s not forever,” I say. “Just for now.”

Just until I can figure out who the hell is threatening my family.

It’s been a full week since my date gone awry with Nate, and Willa’s finally reached her threshold of minding her business about it. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s been able to hold out this long.

“Did you kiss?” she asks once she’s about three miles into her treadmill run.

“I almost got him killed.”

“But did you kiss , Vanessa?”

I keep doing my stationary exercises on the ground in front of her just waiting for her to lose her patience. After another half-mile, she throws a hand towel at me.

Mary and Sean spar on the large mat, and Leo beats on a punching bag, but I am certain they’re all listening. Everyone is so damn nosy in this family.

“Yes,” I say, hoping she’ll leave it at that.

“I fucking knew it,” Mary says.

“Called it,” Willa adds.

Leo is smart to stay silent after I level a glare at him.

“It was nothing,” I say. Best kiss of my life, I do not add. “Nate made it perfectly clear that he does not want to see me again after that.”

“Bullshit,” Willa says. “You’re a dime, what did he say?”

I finish my set of crunches and lie back on the mat for a few seconds before looking back at my older sister. She looks perfect, even while running. Her perfectly highlighted hair is pulled into a braid thumping against her back and her cheeks are barely red. She doesn’t even look that sweaty.

“He may have told me in no unclear terms to keep myself and my crime the hell away from him.”

Willa hums, speeds the treadmill up a bit.

“Prick,” Sean scoffs.

“No, that’s not so bad. People can adjust!” Willa says.

I watch one of the propeller fans on the high ceiling slightly shaking as it makes its rounds. I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I will not be seeing Nate Gilbert again, not even a parent teacher conference. Tony and a couple of other guys are set up outside his place on a rotation, though, and they send me texts directly every day with updates, usually letting me know that he’s staying inside aside from teaching or walking that dog.

“Do your lunges,” Willa says. I get up. “I think you should call him, you need to get laid. How long has it been?”

“ You need to get laid,” I say back, though I know for a fact that she does not need to get laid. Her and Sean are open with their love to an uncomfortable level. Like, still borderline making out during family movie nights kind of stuff.

It has been at least a year since I last had sex, and that is a generous estimate. I might guess closer to two.

“I’m not saying you need to marry the guy, Ness, just send a text. He already knows your secrets.”

“It’s not worth it,” I say. “He could never be a part of this.”

Nate is better than us—too good for organized crime.

We work out independently for a while, my family finally taking the hint that I don’t want to talk about it. Willa makes her way onto the mat and drops down next to me after she’s hit seven miles.

“Do you think the attack could be because you went on a date?” Willa asks.

“Hm?”

“Like, you keep saying no to proposals and then these old heads hear you’re hooking up with some math teacher from Connecticut and something breaks in them? First, you tell them their 22-year-old son isn’t a good fit and then,” Willa snaps, “you start dating some guy who’s never so much as gotten a speeding ticket?”

I don’t want to say yes, don’t want to admit that it’s very likely that these stupid fucking old men are deciding to question my authority in a way they never would my father. Doesn’t matter that my work has made us all wealthier, has brought us into this century. They would trust me more if I was married, and more so if I was married to one of their sons.

If I had a husband, they could believe that he was secretly making moves for me with me as his little novelty puppet.

“Maybe,” I say.

I shouldn’t have killed both of the men that attacked me. I’ll admit that I got a bit too heated, it’s just that I hate being caught off guard. Especially on the singular night I decided to take off for myself.

Willa stands from where she was just folding herself in half and reaches a hand down. “Fight with me?” she asks, and I let her pull me up to fight until I’m not thinking about marriage or math teachers anymore.