Bent not Broken (280 page)

Finally looking up, he pressed down on his lips. His breathing began to pick up, and I could see his chest heaving up and down through the thin cotton fabric, which was now covered in smeared blood. “I-I … it was a bad exchange. Mia. I … there was nothing else I could’ve done.”

I gasped, bringing my hand to my mouth. Looking in his eyes, I wanted him to say it, to clarify it. “You
killed
someone?”

His eyes were begging me to understand. I couldn’t stop staring at him in fear, in shock. He was standing there, my Marcus, the man I had grown to love and know, yet he was covered in blood and asking me to understand a “bad exchange.” I began to feel nauseated and lightheaded. Stumbling back a few steps, I leaned against the sink. Clenching my hand along the edge of the granite top and placing my other hand against my stomach, I glanced at the floor. I looked at his shirt beside my foot. It was covered in so much blood, another man’s blood. He could have been someone’s husband, father, or uncle, someone’s son or brother.

Tears began to flow down my cheeks. I began to sob, feeling sorry for a man I didn’t know, yet I could feel the sorrow of his loss, of his family’s loss. The picture of Marcus standing in front of a man and blowing his brains out came to mind: blood and skull splattered all over. The thought instantly brought vomit to my throat; not able to hold it, I ran to the toilet. Once I opened the lid, I threw up.

“Mia, baby.” Marcus was at my side, rubbing his hand along my back.

“No! Get away from me!” I pushed him away with my hand, as I continued, straining to throw my guts up. Tears fell from my eyes. Once I was finished, I rested my head on my arm, which was wrapped around the toilet seat. The taste of the vomit in my mouth made me want to do it again. After a few seconds, I managed to stand and walk over to the sink. Marcus was leaning against the wall, looking at me desperately. I ignored him and brushed my teeth, trying to erase the taste. After rinsing my mouth twice, I stormed into the bedroom.

What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t even look at him, let alone stay in the same room as him. I walked over to the drawer he said was mine and in one swoop grabbed all of my clothes, dumping them onto the bed. Walking back, I opened the second and third drawers and did the same.

Marcus walked over to me and reached for my wrist. Pulling away, I walked past him and headed for the closet. I spotted my small suitcase and rolled it over to the bedroom. When I walked back in, Marcus was placing my clothes back in the drawers. “Marcus, what the hell are you doing?” I yelled.

“You’re not going anywhere, Mia. I won’t let you. Please, you have to talk to me. Let me explain,” he begged.

“Marcus, I am tired of this!” Dropping the suitcase to the ground, I lifted my hand to my chest. “I can’t do this anymore: the late nights, your second life. I love …” The tears began to take over again, and I was practically sobbing. I wasn’t sure if I was even understandable. “I love you so much, and it will hurt for me to leave, but I have to do what’s best.”

He ran to me, keeping his distance, not sure if I was ready for him to touch me. His eyes were lost and confused. “Please, Mia, don’t leave me. I-I know I fucked up. I had no choice, Mia. Please, you’re the only person that I live for.” His voice broke at the last words.

“You don’t understand. It’s not about me anymore, Marcus. I have a bigger responsibility to take care of and think about now. It’s way bigger than both of us, and I’m not ready to bring that around this.” I said, waving my hand at his bloody shirt.

Looking down at his shirt, he brought his gaze back to me. “Please,
Mia,
don’t do this; I need you.”

“Someone else needs me more.” I said, pressing my hands against my belly.

Chapter Eighteen

He looked down at my hands, back up into my eyes, and then down at my hands again. His head slightly tilted to the side. After a few seconds, he caught on and gasped taking a step back. Slowly his gaze met mine again. Tears begin to sting his eyes.

“Y-you’re pregnant?” He breathed the question in shock. Not saying a word to him, I just simply nodded. This was not how I expected to tell him; this was not how I wanted to tell him. Yet there we were. Before, my fear was of his reaction; now, my biggest fear was of knowing I’d have to do this alone because I wouldn’t allow my child to grow up in this environment.

He swallowed hard and stepped in closer. He looked at me to see if it was okay. I didn’t move, so he inched in some more, meeting my eyes again to see if I’d retreat. I didn’t move. Cautiously he brought his hand and placed in on top of mine. Sliding my hands away so that he could touch, he gently caressed my belly. A gentle smile formed on his face; looking up at me, his eyebrows furrowed. Slowly he lowered his head toward mine. I wanted to kiss him desperately; I wanted this moment to be special, to be a happy moment for the both of us. When his lips almost brushed mine, I pulled away completely smacking his hand off of me.

Within that second, I regretted my reaction when I saw the hurt of my rejection on his face. It made my stomach twist in knots. Leaving him would not only hurt me but it would cause so much pain to him. I didn’t know if I could handle that, but it wasn’t about me anymore. I needed to focus on what was more important, and that was the safety of my unborn child, our unborn child. I had this instant connection with my baby, this need to protect it.

“Mia, please, let’s be a family. Please don’t leave me. I promise I’ll do better.” He begged.

Hope filled me. I would do anything to have a family. “Will you leave then? Will you stop working for Lou?” Searching his face, my spirits begin to lift. Maybe he’d finally leave it behind. If he loved
us
enough, he would, wouldn’t he?

“Mia, I … I can’t do that right now.” He swallowed.

Hurt and rage filled my every bone. Tilting my head, I studied him. “Why not? Don’t you love me? Don’t you want this to work? I can’t raise a child in this environment, Marcus! I won’t allow my baby to end up like you!” I didn’t mean to say it that way. I just wanted him to understand—understand why I wanted him to leave. I loved him so much, and I knew those words hurt him deeper than anything. The look on his face … It pained him to know what I thought of him.

We didn’t say anything to each other for a long time. We just stared at one another, both of us breathing heavily. Lost, confused, anxious, and scared, I didn’t know what to say next. So instead I brushed past him with my suitcase, laid it on the bed, unzipped the lid, and began to throw my belongings in it.

Trying to hold back my tears, I couldn’t. It was hard to see what I was doing through blurry vision. When I finally packed the last piece of fabric, I closed the suitcase. Anxiety overcame me, and I felt faint. Leaning against the bag, I sniffed and tried so desperately to calm my breathing. I grabbed the handle to the bag and turned around. Marcus was standing in the same spot, this time facing me, staring directly at me with those big, warm, sad, brown eyes. Tears slowly dripped down his cheek. Shocked to see this, startled by this reaction, I couldn’t move; I just stared at him.

“I had to do it.” He finally spoke in a low husky tone. “It was either him or me.” I didn’t move or speak out of fear, shock, and curiosity. I allowed him to talk. “I walked into the warehouse, thinking it would be like any other day. Eager to get back home to you, I just wanted it to be over with. It was me and two other guys, Larry and Vinnie. They usually go with me on these jobs. It was a drug trade with a Chinese cartel.” He continued to talk, not moving or taking his eyes off of me. I sank down onto the edge of the bed, waiting nervously for what he would say next.

“We’ve done plenty of business with them before. So it wasn’t anything new, same shit: we go in, make the trade, count the money, and seal the deal. Though this time, it was different. There was a new guy in their group. I found him suspicious the moment I saw him. I don’t like new people, especially in this line of work. You always have to be cautious, but I wanted to hurry the deal to get home. My guys began to unload the bags of drugs into the back of their truck. I watched everything that was going on, keeping my eyes on my guys, the truck, the other group, and the new guy who was eyeing me down.

“I felt uneasy, so I focused more on him. He didn’t like that I was intensely paying extra attention to him. I watched as he whispered something to his boss. His boss narrowed his eyes at me, and I knew something was going to go down. I felt it. The boss made his way to me, standing only inches away. By this time my guys were attentive and were beside me, feeling the vibe as well. He asked me if I was a cop. I was completely shocked by this. I’ve previously done jobs with him. I told him no, and he asked me if I was wearing a wire. I lifted my shirt to show him I wasn’t. The new guy wasn’t convinced. He began to chant something in their language, and I grew irritated. So I made an offensive comment that he didn’t like.

“Before I knew it, guns were drawn and shots were fired all over the place. My guys shot the other two men. The new guy had attacked me at that time. We wrestled, punched, and tackled each other until he reached for his gun. He pointed it at me. At that moment, I thought I was done. Your face was the only thing that came to my mind—that and the thought of leaving you behind, the thought of never being able to hold you again, to kiss you again. I didn’t want to go without a fight. So without thinking, I quickly punched him and reached for the gun and shot him in the head. It was him or me, and I chose
me
because of you.”

I was speechless, listening to him and his story. He spoke in detail of the night, of the fact that he almost lost his life. My heart picked up its pace as I began to realize that I almost lost him. He was inches away from being gunned down and killed. He would have been the third man in my life that I loved so dearly to have been taken away from me. Fresh tears began to form in my eyes, and I wanted to hold him and let him know I wouldn’t go—let him know that I would stay no matter what.

Though I wanted to reach out and comfort him, I pulled back because this was the main reason why I should go, why I should take my unborn child and run. It would hurt less to leave than to stay and wait up every night, wondering if he’d be home soon or if I’d get a call that he was dead. I shuddered at the thought. I wondered if I were brave enough to walk out of there even after his confession.

Slowly rising from the bed, I grabbed the handle of the suitcase and began to walk towards him. When I was inches away from him, I reached up and touched his face. My thumb caressed his cheekbone. He looked so tired and defeated.

Tracing my hand on the back of his neck, I pulled him down to me. His soft lips touched mine, and I gently kissed him. Tears streamed down my face as this would be our last kiss. He gently sighed at my embrace, but I pulled my head away. His eyes shot open, searching my face. “Goodbye, Marcus,” I whispered. His eyes filled with pain, and his breathing began to pick up.

“No!” He yelled. Gripping my hips, he pulled me into him. “No, please don’t leave me, Mia. I need you. I can’t live without you. Please!” His arms were tightly wrapped around me. I couldn’t breathe. I tried to pull away, but he pulled me in tighter. “No! Please … Please … I can’t …” His voice broke. Then before I could pull away again, he began to sob. He buried his face into my neck. I could feel the moisture of his tears against my skin. It broke my heart to see and hear this strong, powerful, masculine man this vulnerable and broken.

I began to sob with him, dropping the suitcase onto the ground. I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Please, Marcus, let me go. I love you so much, and this is hard enough …” I couldn’t finish. He tightened his arms around me like I would disappear any second.

His head dug in deeper into the nape of my neck, and he sobbed, crying out for me not to leave. “Mia, please … you’re the reason for me living. You’re the reason I want to wake up every morning, and you’re the reason for my existence. Before you, I didn’t care if I was killed. I woke up every morning miserable, wondering why I was here. I was so close to taking my own life right before I met you because I thought I was useless. Then when I met you … You’re everything, Mia Without you, there’s no reason for
me.
Please.” He choked.

Taking in everything that he just said, I closed my eyes as tightly as I could and squeezed my arms around him. He tried to kill himself before? If I leave and there’s no reason for him, does that mean he’ll try to again? The thought shattered my heart into a million pieces. A world without Marcus DeLuca wouldn’t be a world at all. He thought he was useless and therefore tried to take his own life.
Oh
, I wanted to make him feel okay. I wanted to take all the pain and misery away from him.

He’d been through so much, and this was all he knew, but it wasn’t what I knew. Was I ready to deal with this? I loved him so much. At that moment, even though I knew I must protect our child, I would rather deal with the consequences of his second life than see him broken down and hurt.

Lifting my head to face him, I cupped his face with my hands. His eyes were blood shot. His eyelids are swollen and wet. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, bringing his lips to mine. He was hesitant at first. I’m sure he was afraid that it was a goodbye kiss. My mouth slightly opened, allowing his tongue to slide in.

He hungrily kissed me, tasting me and brought his hands to my face. Before I could deepen our kiss, he pulled back, looking into my eyes. “You’re not leaving me?” His tone was uneasy and shaky.

“No, baby, I’m not. I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Letting out a long deep breath, he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against mine. “Oh, Mia, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I fucking love you so much.” Reaching back for my lips, he didn’t move from them.

Bending down, he gripped my thighs and lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist. Not breaking from the kiss, he walked over while carrying me to the bed. My body sank into the soft mattress. He ripped off our clothes, and before I knew it we were both naked. He pressed his body against mine, and the warmth of his body sent shivers down my spine. He placed his elbows on either side of my face and dug his hands under my head. Bringing his head down, he began to trace long kisses all around my face: on my forehead, my eyes, my nose, my cheeks, down my jawline and my chin. He bestowed warm kisses on every inch of my face until he reached my lips.