Page 75 of Bad Men

Sitting up, looking as delicious and beautiful as Davien, Nero grabbed a wad of denim from somewhere beneath the coffee table and held them out to me without a word.

I stuffed my feet into them, nearly losing my balance but getting them on in the end.

“Why did I fall asleep? How could I be so stupid?”

“Hey.” Dav took my arm lightly, stopping my frantic assault of their living space. “You are not horrible, stupid or selfish. Now, calm down. We’ll get you home, you’ll explain what happened and—”

“Explain what?” I choked, staring up into his face through a wall of tears. “What am I supposed to tell them?”

“The truth?” Nero supplied not unkindly.

I turned to him. “That I’m sleeping with two men to pay back what we owe a vicious mob boss?” I shook my head. “They would be devastated and ashamed, and disgusted, and they will never forgive me. I can’t tell them the truth. You know I can’t.”

“Then maybe it’s time we reevaluate your place here,” Nero countered.

I didn’t have time to dissect his meaning. Whatever he was saying could wait until after I begged my parents for their forgiveness.

“Text us,” Nero said when Davien pulled the Mustang up in its usual spot down the block and parked. “We’ll come get you.”

I had a feeling I wouldn’t be seeing the light of day for a long time. It didn’t matter that I was a twenty-two-year-old woman. My parents meant the world to me. The thought of betraying them or hurting them destroyed me inside.

“Mia?”

I looked away from the familiar row of homes to the man watching me from behind the wheel. He must have been speaking though I hadn’t heard a word.

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you want us to wait?”

I shook my head. “I’ll be okay.” I licked my lips. “I don’t know what I’m going to tell them but … I’ll text you when I get to work.”

It was still early enough that no one would be looking out their windows as I sprinted up the cracked sidewalk to the front door of my parent’s house. My heart beat a million miles per hour, a frantic tempo of a caged animal anticipating the end. I willed my breath to slow, my head to stop spinning, my lungs to stop aching. I begged whichever supreme being was listening to please, please let me get through this. But there would be no changing the disappointment and fear my parents were feeling. I knew it the moment I pried the door open and stepped inside.

Twelve pairs of eyes swing in my direction. Heads turned, conversation hushed for a fraction of a second before exploding in a rush of frenzied movement. Neighbors and friends, people I had known my entire life lunged forward in a collective herd. Hands grabbed me and arms pulled me into suffocating hugs. Blessings were whispered and shouted in varying languages. No one gave me time to explain, to even speak. All they knew was their relief at my return.

“Mia!” Mom appeared from amongst the crowd. Her arms swung around my neck in a choking vise that littered my vision with gray dots. “Where have you been, you stupid girl?”

“I’m sorry,” was all I could manage.

She squeezed harder before releasing me and stepping back to take me in. “Are you hurt?”

I shook my head, emotion and regret a jagged lump in my throat.

She exhaled and stepped back only to be replaced by my dad. His embrace was lighter, but it still trembled with his deep exhale. With an all-consuming inhale, he pulled back to search my face, to stare into my eyes.

“You’re okay?” he asked quietly.

I nodded, the concern and relief coming off him triggering the tears I’d fought so hard to keep at bay. “I’m sorry, papa.”

He just nodded and turned to the faces around us. “Thank you all for staying with us last night. Your prayers brought Mia home. But we’re all exhausted and should get some rest.”

I was pulled into hard hugs and wet kisses. I knew everyone present, but I couldn’t register a single face as each one slipped out the front door with a final wave and returned to their homes. Then I was alone with two of the most important people in my life and I had never felt so scared or so ashamed.

“You are sure you are all right?” my father asked once the last person had shut the door behind them.

I nodded. “Papa—”

He put a rough, wrinkled hand up. “You scared us, niña. We didn’t know what to expect. All night, we waited for news that something had happened to you. Your mother was in pieces.”

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