Page 62 of The Trap

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Carmine tosses his hands up in the air. “Even now, at the most inappropriate of times, you two have to make crude jokes,” he huffs, shaking his head.

“It helps lighten the mood,” I mumble, reaching for the axe in Colson’s hand, but his grip only tightens.

I tug it, pulling it toward me, but he yanks it closer to him. “Colson,” I drag, “You don’t have to do this. You can still have the money, the house, all of it, just let me do it.”

A raw groan like I’ve never witnessed before sounds, echoing against the concrete walls as he seizes the axe in his hand and tosses it to the ground.

Startled, I step back, but Colson reaches for me, twirling me around and into him. “Fuck the house, the money, fuck all of it. I’m just so fucking tired.” His voice cracks, but his stern expression does not falter. Inhaling a long breath, he continues. “I am just so fucking tired of men like my brother and his father using what they have to destroy people’s lives. It’s that greed that killed my mother’s spirit long before she was sent to an early grave, and it was that same malicious ignorance that cost my biological father and yours their lives for trying to do the right thing.” He takes another ragged breath before slowly releasing his air in my face. “And to top it all off, he was going to have you killed. Just another thing that I–”

I stop him, placing my finger on his lips. “Don’t say love,” I correct him. “This,” I move my other hand between us, “is not love. It’s–”

He moves my finger from his lips and glides it over to my own to shush me. “It’s not love, you’re right. I don’t know you enough to say I love you. If anything, what we have is far more complicated than that. I mean, I love the way you can’t help yourself and always find ways to say the most off-the-cuff, bratty things no matter the situation. I also love the way that you think you need to take on every battle on your own because you’re used to being strong. And yes, I also love the way that—” a grin spreads on his face as he moves his stare from where he holds me hostage, over to Carmine and Sienna. “Um, you two might want to cover your ears for this one.” He winks.

Carmine looks at Sienna, already cupping his hands at his ears. “Yes, please. Unlike my wife, I’d rather not hear whatever fucked up thing you’re about to say about my cousin. Which by the way, buddy, after this is over and I offer you a job—whichyouwillaccept—we need to talk about this degrading shit you’re into. I guess your stand-in father never taught you how to praise a lover, huh?”

Sienna cackles. “Oh please, you grump. Praise isyourthing, it’s obviously not Raiden’s, and, if I remember correctly, your stand-in father didn’t help you out on that front either. You just learned what I liked on your own. So let them have their moment,” she jokes, motioning for him to step outside the room. “We’ll be on the other side of the door, just call when you need us.” She winks at me.

“Wait,” Colson calls out. “What do you mean job?”

“I mean that both of your father’s wanted to form an alliance, right? That way when you two got together and Alistair and Brett died the way they had originally planned everything would go to you both. Alistair’s already dead as we all know, but the will has remained the same, only obstacle in your way Colson, is him. So, if you are willing to do what needs to be done to end the vile chapter that is the Cromwell’s existence, I figure what better way to honor both of your father’s then to have you work with us. Victor was my uncle after all,” Carmine subtly winces after the mention of my father. Dad treated him like a son since his own dad was an absolute piece of shit.

“But you’re a Moretti?” Colson blurts.

Carmine chuckles softly, “Yes, you’re correct. My father’s last name was Moretti. But my loyalty and my heart belongs to my mother’s side of the family. See, Colson, even if the blood of our makers runs through us, we still have the right to deny one or both parties, if our heart does not align with the DNA they contributed. Trust me, I learned that the hard way. Seeing how well you both work together, maybe your fathers were onto something. Or maybe it was fate, who knows. But I think having you on the team will be good for all of us,” Carmine gaze nowskating both me and Colson. “We can discuss more after,” he ends his speech with a nod, as he and Sienna exit the room.

Once the door slams, Colson drops the axe before bending to re-gag a half-conscious Brett before turning back to me. His large palm skates across my chin, caressing it with rough, soothing strokes that ignite a spark within me, something his brother, or anyone else for that matter, could never do.

“You were saying,” I nudge him to continue.

His hand moves from my chin to a tendril of hair that escaped being tucked behind my ear. “I love how I feel inside you. I love how angry and turned on you can make me at the same time. There’s a lot I love about you, but there’s so much more I want—and need—to learn about you so that this lust that exists between us, that pushes us to challenge and please the other, can turn into the one thing that means more to me than the fortune that awaits me: knowing what it feels like to be loved by the beautiful, feisty, and maddening Raiden Gabriella Ramos. So please, let me do this…for you.”

He drops my hair, already halfway to picking up the axe, but I stop him. My heart is racing a mile a minute from his words, and I know he means them, but I don’t think he’s prepared to kill someone.

“Wait,” I yell out, reaching for the axe in his possession.

“Raiden,” he urges.

“I can do it. I want to,” I offer, literally wanting nothingmorethan to sever the fucking head of the asshole I had to pretend to tolerate for months.

Colson clicks his tongue. “He deserves what’s coming to him. He chose his father over our mother, and he was willing to pay for both of us to be killed. I want to do this.”

“I know, but death is something that stays with you. Even if the person deserves it, the aftermath is all the same. Guilt runs in the blood. It will stain your hands and, eventually, it will beginto stain who you are as a person,” I choke out, not realizing how much my own words are affecting me. “You’re such a good man,” I continue, “I don’t want to see you lose what makes you who you are, not over something that I can do for you.”

“Raiden, another thing I love about you is your stubbornness, but if you think for a fucking second that I wouldn’t kill my own flesh and blood for even threatening to hurt you, then you don’t know me at all. And if for whatever reason you don’t think you’re worth that sacrifice, then you don’t know your own worth.” His words drive as deep as a knife to my heart because I know he means every word he said.

I blush, defaulting to my playful sarcasm as I usually do when I’m trying to deflect having to actually feel emotions. “Such a romantic,” I coo, fanning myself, but seriously…that is the most romantic thing that’s ever been said to me–ever.

“Boo,” a voice shouts, disrupting our moment as the door bursts open to reveal none other than Blair and Delilah. Delilah’s blue hair shakes as she tries to stop Blair from coming inside the room.

“What are you two doing here?” I ask, although considering we’re standing below Satan’s I already know the answer.

“Working, duh. When I heard Maddox and the DJ brought you two here, I had to come down and join in on the fun,” Blair winks.

“Blair,” Delilah playfully scolds, “get the fuck over here!”

Ignoring Delilah, Blair saunters over to Colson. Her all-black bodysuit the same as the one the masked woman wore from before, which means she was one of the henchmen as Sienna put it. Of course, don’t tempt Blair with a good time, if kidnapping and torture are on the menu.

Standing in front of him, she runs her manicured hand from his sternum up to his chin. “Come on, pretty boy, if you don’t doit, I’ll gladly kill him for you. No skin off my back, I always have my clean-up crew on deck,” she looks at me, winking.

---