Broken Songbird (Vicious Games #2)

43. Chapter 43

A fter escaping the conservatory the moment Matteo arrived, I have avoided him all night, concentrating on making this night seamless for Del and Enzo.

They arrived shortly after Matteo did, Del now dressed in a stunning beaded light gold dress that has a similar neckline and sleeves to her wedding dress, but no chiffon in the floor-length skirt and a lot more sparkle.

Dinner went without a hitch; the food was spectacular, there weren’t any speeches, the first dance made me tear up, and the newlyweds just fed each other cake very elegantly.

As I direct staff about the dessert service, I ignore the many eyes I feel on me. I’ve felt them all night since Matteo arrived, but I’ve swallowed down the discomfort for Del. I’m not bringing my drama into this night.

But I almost bump into my drama on my way back to the wedding party table.

“You’ve been avoiding me, little Songbird,” Matteo purrs.

I freeze at those familiar words.

“I’ve been busy,” I say simply.

He raises a manicured brow. “There’s an army of people we hired to do that.”

“And they need direction from someone who knows the newlyweds to make it perfect.”

Matteo steps into my space, placing a hand on my waist. “Such attitude. I should—”

I take two steps away from him, cutting off his words. “Stop.”

Confusion creases his brow. “Scar—”

“Tonight is about your brother and my best friend,” I snap. “Let’s not ruin their night with our problems.”

He goes from confused to suspicious in a blink. “What problems? ”

“Not tonight,” I say through gritted teeth, spin on my heel and walk in the opposite direction.

I see the Savage Wings table and walk over. Hawk, Phantom, Rita and Bull are still at the table, and I know Ink, Creed and Heartbreaker are around here somewhere. Maya, Flash and the kids left after the dinner service. All the guys have discarded their suit jackets and ties and have rolled their shirt sleeves and are taking full advantage of the open bar.

I slide into a vacated seat with a huffed, “hey”, as I reach for an untouched bottle of white wine on ice and crack open the bottle, pouring myself a glass.

“You okay, honey?” Rita says across the table.

I sip a mouthful of wine and relax into the seat. “I am now.”

She nods and returns to her conversation with Hawk and Bull. I appreciate the moment of reprieve as I watch the table laugh and chat, Phantom sitting next to me with a book in his lap as usual.

I’m about to ask what he’s reading, but his head snaps up in time for Ink to appear suddenly between him and Hawk.

His steel-grey eyes are razor-focused on Hawk. “We need to go. Now .”

Hawk frowns at his friend. “What—”

“Parker’s house is on fire.”

Hawk’s eyes widen as he stands immediately, pulls his jacket from his chair and they both leave without a backward glance.

“Who’s Parker?” I ask the table.

They all shrug or shake their head.

Whoever Parker is, I hope they’re okay.

“Scarlett,” I hear Matteo say behind me.

I bristle but turn around.

He looks frustrated as he tips his head toward the exit.

I turn around with a sigh. Of course, he wants to talk tonight .

“If you’ll excuse me,” I announce to the table.

Warm fingers wrap gently around my wrist as I stand. I look at Phantom.

“You good?” he asks softly, those intriguing eyes flicking to Matteo for a second, then back to me.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Thank you, Phantom.”

He holds onto me for a few seconds more, then nods and releases me, his attention back on his book.

I approach Matteo and he gestures toward the entrance of the marquee, so I walk across and exit into the frigid night. Matteo now takes the lead, walking a couple of steps in front of me as we head toward the house down the candlelit pathway through the garden.

We head further into the house that guests can access, dodging event staff until Matteo opens a random door and gestures for me to enter.

Nerves flutter in my gut as I move toward the open door. I know Matteo won’t hurt me, he wouldn’t dare, but I really wish I brought my phone.

I step into the room that’s being used as storage and walk to the other side of the room as Matteo follows me in and closes the door.

“This used to be a guest bedroom,” Matteo comments idly, walking around the room slowly, looking at the flat-packed tables against the wall and stacks of chairs.

As he moves toward me, I move farther away, mirroring his circling of the room. I know he notices by the confused expression.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asks, continuing to move.

“Should I be?” I ask, still matching his steps.

Insult flashes in his blue eyes. “You never have to be afraid of me, Scar.”

“Then why are we in this room?”

He stops. “Because you’re avoiding me, and I want to know why.”

I stop, closer to the exit. “And I said—”

“I’m not waiting until tomorrow,” he says. “There’s no one here.” His face softens. “Talk to me. Please? I haven’t been around my people in months.”

“Where have you been?”

“I’ve been a few places, but mostly New Zealand at a private physical rehabilitation facility.”

I frown. “Why?”

“I honestly didn’t pay attention to the technical medical stuff, but I couldn’t walk for about four months. Something about my spine.”

My mouth drops open. “Matteo…”

He waves me off. “Clearly I’m fine now.”

I ask the question that’s been plaguing me all day. “Why did you lie about being dead?”

Matteo sighs, his hand combing through his thick hair. “ That wasn’t my decision.”

“So Enzo lied?” I fucking knew it.

“The doctors told me I may never walk again,” he reasons. “He didn’t want our enemies to know how vulnerable I was.”

“So that means lying to everyone?” I snap, my anger bubbling over.

“You can’t torture information out of someone if they don’t have it,” he says with a shrug. A fucking shrug .

“And you were just okay with this?”

“No, I wasn’t,” he says, frowning. “But I didn’t have a choice. Physically couldn’t do anything about it.”

“You could have told Enzo to stop being such a controlling asshole and trust people around him.”

Matteo’s face splits into a grin. “Still a little firecracker, I see.”

I rein in my anger and take a deep breath. “I should be ripping into Enzo and not you, which I will do once he returns from his honeymoon.” I gesture at the door. “Shall we go?”

“This isn’t at all what I wanted to talk about,” he says, taking several steps toward me. I instinctually move back, which makes him pause and frown again. “ That. That’s what I want to talk about.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say carefully.

“You’re avoiding me,” he says again. “My touch particularly.”

This is the conversation I wanted to avoid. I don’t think he’s going to take the news of me and Creed well.

“We’ve seen and touched every inch of each other’s body,” Matteo says suggestively. “Now you won’t let me hug you. What’s changed?”

“Everything,” I blurt out.

Matteo’s grin drops, but he says nothing, waiting for me to continue.

“I…” I suck in a breath. “I’ve moved on, Teo.”

He scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. “Yeah, I saw the blonde guy.”

“What?”

“The guy with the scar. Phantom, is it?” He waves it off. “Doesn’t matter. Dump him.”

“It’s Creed.”

Matteo stands straighter. “What?”

“Creed and I are together,” I say with finality.

Matteo shakes his head. “No.”

What? “You can’t just say ‘no’.”

“No,” he says, a little harder this time. “No, this isn’t right.”

“Matteo—”

“No,” he barks. “It’s supposed to be you and me .”

“Maybe it might have been,” I say gently, trying to diffuse the tension. “But…you were dead . Did you expect me to wait for a ghost?”

“But I’m here ,” he stresses, taking another step toward me. “I’m here and we can be together now.”

Instead of moving away from Matteo, I step right up to him and wrap my arms around his torso, holding him tight. He wraps his arms around me and sighs deeply, relaxing in my hold.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I whisper after a minute. “But…”

Matteo pulls back, holding me at arm’s length, those sparkling ocean-blue eyes regarding me sombrely. “But you’re about to.”

“I love you,” I start, stepping back. “Always will. And sure, we would have been something, and I would have loved you so much more, but we would have destroyed each other.”

“I would never do that to you,” Matteo states.

“Not intentionally,” I say softly. “And it wouldn’t have been just you, either. We both would have had to change ourselves to make it work, and neither should have to for another person.”

He reaches across and cups my face with both hands. “You don’t have to change for me.”

“I would, to make you happy,” I whisper.

He shakes his head in disbelief.

“And you would have to for me,” I say. “I’m not Del, I’m not really built for the underworld.”

“Creed’s part of that too,” Matteo points out, his hands dropping away.

“With him, I have a choice to dive in, and there’s always an option to opt out.” This time, I reach up and cup his face. “You need someone who can handle all of this by your side. That’s not me.”

He pulls my hands from his face and kisses my knuckles. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you .”

“You want me, you don’t need me. And my soul needs Creed.”

“ I need you,” Matteo blurts out, panic in his eyes, his grip on my hands tightening slightly. It dawns on me that I’m searching again, searching for those little kernels of softness that I once wanted to collect so badly.

My heart sinks. Those tiny sparks seem to be gone.

Were they never there, just something I conjured up, or are they simply no longer mine to see?

I shake my head, tugging my hands out of his grip, and step back. “There’s someone out there who you will need with such intensity that it’ll be nothing compared to what you want from me right now.”

“Scarlett,” Matteo says, eyes searching my face frantically, in desperation.

I keep moving, bottom lip trembling. I can cry later. I hate this, but it’s for both of us.

I bump into a warm body, the familiar sweet-smoke and leather scent calming me a fraction.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Creed says, as his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “Everything—”

His words are cut off as he darts in front of me as Matteo pulls a gun and aims it directly at Creed.

“What are you doing ?” I shout.

Creed stays silent with his arms out placatingly as Matteo charges forward and presses the barrel of the gun into his chest. He breathes in short, sharp movements, fury rolling off him.

My heart pounds wildly in my chest, tears now leaking down my face. Is he really going to shoot Creed?

“Teo,” I croak out. That draws his attention.

His expression drops, his fury disperses slightly, and he breathes a little deeper.

His jaw muscles tick as he closes his eyes. “Fuck.”

He opens them to Creed again, lowers the gun from his chest, but slams the barrel across Creed’s face.

Creed stumbles back into me, clutching his face, as Matteo storms out of the room.

“Motherfucker,” Creed says, his statement muffled by his hand.

“Sit down,” I say as we move together to a chair nearby.

Blood leaks between Creed’s fingers and down the back of his hand as his eyes water uncontrollably.

“Don’t move,” I command, and then cross to a pile of clean linen napkins and take a few, then return to Creed.

I hand him one, then pull the hand covering his face away. His cheek is red and his nose is bleeding. He also has a split on the bridge of his nose that’s also bleeding.

“It’s not broken,” I comment, as Creed presses his napkin under his nose while I dab gently at the cut. “This doesn’t need stitches. You’re going to have bruising in a day or two.”

Creed nods and then leans his elbows on his knees, keeping his head hanging down and the napkin under his nose. I dip down and plant myself on the floor next to Creed, my back against the wall. I absently fold the soiled linen neatly in my lap, my mind a garbled mess of noise, nothing discernible.

Creed mumbles something behind the linen.

I look at him. “Hmm?”

He moves the fabric. “I asked if you were okay.”

I shrug. “I will be.”

“He will be too,” he says. “Give him time.”

I sigh, dropping my head back against the wall. “I know.”

The door to the storage room bursts open and my sparkly, and possibly a little drunk, best friend stumbles in.

“Scar,” Del drawls. “I’ve been—holy shit, Creed. What happened?”

Creed stands, napkin still pressed to his nose. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” He turns to me. “I’ll send in food and drinks.”

I blow him a kiss. “Thank you.”

Del and I pick at the last piece of cake together, still sitting on the floor of the storage room. The staff also brought us the other cheese platter I had aside, which we’ve made our way through, along with a bottle of champagne and a surprise pitcher of margarita, thanks to Heartbreaker.

“I can’t believe Matteo pulled a gun on Creed,” Del repeats, sipping on her margarita.

“For a minute, I thought he was going to do it,” I comment, tipping back the last of the champagne directly from the bottle.

“That’s the difference,” Del says, pointing at me with her drink, the liquid spilling down the sides. “If it was reversed, Creed would have shot Matteo without hesitation. That tells you everything you need to know.”

“Yeah,” I say wistfully. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Teo will be over it in a few weeks,” Del slurs.

“Shit, am I that forgettable?”

She laughs. “Far from it, babe. But that man is a whore for blades and pussy.”

We both erupt into laughter at those truthful words when Del’s phone dings on the floor.

She picks it up and squints, then snorts into her glass as she reads the screen.

“See?” She turns the screen toward me.

ENZO

Taken Teo to the airport. He’ll be back when he’s settled down.

“He’s probably off to fuck his way through Europe,” Del comments.

“Just because that’s your plan, doesn’t mean that’s everyone else’s,” I snip back, taking away her almost empty margarita.

Del pouts at me, flipping me off for taking her glass.

I reach over and take her hand, holding it out between us so we can admire her engagement ring sparkle in the lights and the new shiny edition of her plain platinum wedding band.

“He got ‘sweetheart’ engraved on the inside of both wedding bands,” Del confesses.

“That’s disgusting,” I whisper. “I love it so much.”

Del smiles. “It’s so gross how much I love that man.”

“And it’s absolutely deplorable how much he loves you .”

“Yeah,” she says dreamily. “You know, he didn’t lift a finger with Adrian at the church. He let me kill him all on my own.”

After downloading about Matteo, Del told me that after we left the church, she killed Adrian in a ‘glorious bloodbath’. I didn’t ask for those particular details.

She leans forward with glassy eyes and a wicked grin. “And then we defiled other parts of the church after.”

“ Delphine ,” I chuckle. “You’re incorrigible.”

“You love it,” she counters.

I grin. “I do.”

Del leans to her side and rolls onto her hands and knees, crawling over and throwing her arms around me, taking both of us to the ground.

“I love you so much,” she mumbles into my shoulder.

I hold her tighter. “I love you too.”

“Should I…leave?” Creed asks. We look up and see he’s in the doorframe, hand still on the door handle.

Del and I erupt into laughter again, but we don’t move. Another set of steps barge in and Enzo is suddenly standing over us.

“They do this often,” he comments, as he bends down and scoops up his giggling wife bridal-style.

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” he asks.

She flings her arms around his neck and kisses him hard. “Yes! I need out of this dress immediately.”

Enzo chuckles, carrying his wife to the door. “That request can be accommodated, Mrs. Herrington.”

Creed steps into the room, giving Enzo space to leave, and walks over to stand over me with a smile. His face is clean of blood now and the cut is scabbed over on his nose. He bends over and scoops me off the floor.

“And you, princess?” he asks. “Are you ready to go?”

I kiss him with a soft sigh, then tuck myself under his chin. “Let’s go home.”