Page 31 of A Dark Mafia Christmas

It was a stupid move. I let my dick control my brain without a thought for the consequences, and I knew as soon as we got back to the house that Mary wanted more. It was a big deal for her. Of course, it was. And even when I realized that it was her first time,did I stop and walk away? Like fuck, did I. I was already in way too deep, and that’s what scared me.

“Where’s Mary?” Fianna’s question interrupts my reverie.

“She’ll miss the Buck’s Fizz.” Mom gestures to the champagne in the ice bucket. “Go and wake her up, Emmett.”

“Maybe we should let her sleep.”

“She’ll be disappointed if she misses anything.” Mom isn’t letting this go. “She was so excited about today.”

Was she?

“Emmett,” Dad joins in, “go get your girl. We’re only waiting for Mary.”

There’s no point arguing with them.

Leaving the warm hustle and bustle of the kitchen behind, I head to Mary’s guest room and stop outside. The room is silent. She must still be sleeping.

I knock gently, my knuckles barely grazing the door.

Nothing.

Okay. Maybe she had more to drink than I realized yesterday and is still sleeping it off. I rap the door harder three times, like it’s a pre-agreed code. Then I listen.

Still nothing.

“Mary?” My fingers wrap around the doorknob. I don’t want to barge in and scare the bejesus out of her, but I don’t think she’s going to hear me. I try one more time. “Mary?” Louder now.

When there’s still no sound of movement from behind the door, I open it carefully, the door shushing across the carpet. I peer inside at the darkened room. The curtains are still closed, but the lamps are on, and I wonder if Mary is scared of the dark.

Then I realize that the bed is empty.

It’s empty, but it’s obvious that it hasn’t been slept in because the covers are turned down neatly on one side, the way mom always likes it, and the comforter is still smooth.

Opening the door wide, I step inside, trying to make sense of the empty room. The clothes Mary wore yesterday when we rode down to the stream are folded neatly on top of the old-fashioned chest at the foot of the bed. A fleeting image of Mary bent over in front of me with her jeans around her ankles, pops into my head, and I brush it aside.

Where is she?

Then I spot Granny Mary’s engagement ring on the dresser.

My stomach lurches sickeningly. Mary is gone. I don’t know how or when or where she has gone, but I know exactly why she left. Me and my fucking big mouth.

“We can leave the ring here when we return to New York.”

I couldn’t leave it alone, could I? I had to be sure she understood that what happened yesterday changed nothing. Because I won’t allow it to. I don’t deserve happiness when I let Oisin down so badly. And Mary deserves better than being sucked into a life where no one bats an eyelid at spilt blood.

I cross the room and pick up the ring. Who am I kidding? Yesterday changed fucking everything. The way Mary looked at me… I can’t remember the last time anyone looked at me thatway. It sounds feeble and pathetic, but it made me feel special, and I don’t know when, or if, I’ll ever feel that buzz again.

I need to find her.

Sliding the ring into the pocket of my pants, I dash back downstairs to the kitchen. “Mary’s gone.” I grab my car keys from a hook on the wall. “I’m going to look for her.”

“Gone?” Mom furrows her brow while the word sinks in with everyone else. “What do you mean gone?”

A hushed ripple spreads around the room.

“She isn’t in her room. Her clothes are gone too.” I don’t mention the ring that’s burning a hole in my pocket.

“Gone where?” Granny Nina sits forward in her seat, lines creasing her forehead.

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