AN: Thanks for bearing with me, December has been crazy busy; birthdays galore, lots of quality famiIy time and far too much eating and drinking. I hope everyone's enjoyed the holidays as much as I have and I'm wishing you all a very Happy New Year!

Chapter 26:

There's warmth behind me as I startle, eyes fluttering open and closed, tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth, parched. I sit bolt upright, flailing for something to tell me where I am.

"Hey," Masen says softly behind me. "It's OK. You're safe."

My panic eases as I look around, finding myself on a small worn leather sofa underneath a pile of blankets.

We're in a small office, the window telling me we haven't left the garage. The pits are visible from here, three or four cars parked beyond the bullet-ridden beamer.

My gaze settles on Masen, sat beside me now, worry etched onto his face. There's blood streaked down it, his eyebrow split open. "Here. You gotta be starving, you passed out."

I rub my throbbing head, feeling a lump on the back of it.

He's got a cereal bar and a bottle of water in his hands and I take them off him gladly, chugging the water and breaking up the cereal bar into bite-sized pieces.

"You're hurt." I reach for his face with a trembling hand, fingers finding stubble, dark circles underneath his eyes.

"It's nothin'."

I drop my hand and look down at my blood smeared feet, not liking the way my cheek feels tender when I chew and, despite not eating anything in awhile, I have to force myself to swallow.

Masen's eyes follow mine to my feet, lingering on my wrists. "Ben's gettin' some stuff to fix us up. Clothes and shit for us."

Fix us up.

My mind skips back, to being stood in front of Caius. His voice when he ordered Masen to kill me. A shudder runs up my spine, the food tasting like cardboard in my mouth. Snatches of him telling me to 'play nice' repeating in my head. I shake it, trying to concentrate on the chewing, afraid to let my mind wander any further than counting how many times it takes for me to be able to swallow.

Masen reaches out for my hand, his warm palm against mine, squeezing reassurance. I look up at him, glassy-eyed, feeling like I could fall apart at any minute, and see if reflected right back at me for once.

His gaze doesn't waver from mine, mouth opening, pulling to make words and then going slack again as he struggles, jaw trembling. He buries his head in his free hand, crumbling.

I'm in motion; wrapping my arms around him, running a hand through sweaty, messed up hair, crawling into his lap as he moves his face to the crook of my neck.

Hands curl into me, gripping me tightly, dampness falling onto my skin.

There's something about Masen crying that makes me cry too.

"It's OK," I whisper, through tears, kissing every part of his face he allows me to see. "We're OK."

His arms tighten, holding me closer still.

"I love you." I pull his face to look at me, tear tracks fresh on his cheeks.

"Fuck," he says with a little laugh, shaking his head, sniffing, blinking, embarrassed. "I thought I was gonna lose you—I thought—"

My mouth finds his and I kiss him like it's the first time, to erase the last time, because this isn't goodbye.

This isn't goodbye.

"I can't fuckin' stand the thought of it. Of what almost happened."

I move his hair off his forehead, pushing myself harder against him.

"But we're together and we're here and that's all that matters. That's all that matters, right now."

His lips feather kisses over my face before my head finds his chest, his heart still beating too fast as he inhales deeply, stroking his hand through semi-damp, tangled hair, brushing out the knots with his fingers.

"I'd do anythin' for you," he says quietly as I slowly start to drift again. And I know now more than ever that that's the truth.

...

My eyes flutter open at the sound of low voices. Raising my head off sticky faux leather my muscles cry with every little movement, my head pounding, feet throbbing.

Four sets of eyes swivel my way as I sit up stiffly, shaking out a numb hand, unfurling aching legs slowly.

Alec is the first to speak, unfazed and unruffled as ever.

"Princess," he says, hands in his pockets as icy blue eyes sweep over me. "Glad you're awake."

I eye him warily, uncomfortable that he's seen me at my most vulnerable, that he knows I've heard things he probably wishes I hadn't.

He smiles when I grimace. Princess. Urgh. "Gotta face up to the facts, Doll. That's what you are in this world, Principessa. Had I known, I'd have been less… what's the word? Uncouth."

"So... you'd have just hidden how much of an asshole you are?" I say, voice feeling scratchy and hoarse. "Great. Don't start now."

Masen snorts, coming over to sit next to me, arm draping around my shoulders. I lean into him, the weight of his arm around me comforting, breathing him in as I move my head to rest on his bare chest again, hand wandering over his stomach.

Where was Alec when we were running for our lives?

Alec shrugs, his lips curling. "I'm just sayin'... I didn't see that one comin', y'know? A Falcone," he shakes his head. "A mafia princess right under my nose and I didn't have a fuckin' clue."

"Yeah, well," I trail off and look at Demetri, sat on the desk in front of CCTV monitors, his hands clasped in front of him, gnarly face set serious.

"You're here," I say almost accusingly, surprised.

"Your fella called me the moment you were taken outta that place," he nods at Masen.

I look up at Masen who runs a hand through his hair. "You did?"

"I remembered what you said. Demetri's been… helpful."

They exchange a look and I frown, trying to piece together bits because I'm not sure exactly what happened, or how Demetri's involved.

My head pulses painfully.

"There Tylenol or something? My head is killing me."

Ben rustles in a plastic bag, bringing out painkillers, handing them to me with some water.

"What happened to your head?"

"Royce," I mutter throwing back a couple of pills and taking a large sip.

There's a beat of silence, weight of expectation for me to explain... but I don't. Not quite meeting anyone's eyes. My fingers find a button, fiddling with it as I try not to think of the way his hand felt clamped over my mouth, or the way he groped my tits, or the sound of his fly being undone, his breath on the back of my neck. I swallow thickly, taking another gulp of water not missing the dark look that passes between Masen and Ben.

Demetri clears his throat.

"Spoke to your old man not too long ago," he says. "He's happy you're OK, but I think that goes without saying. Wants you to talk to him. When you're feeling up to it."

I open my mouth and close it again. I don't think this topic is much better. What would I even say to him? Sorry doesn't seem enough. Nowhere near enough.

"And you. Wants words with you too." He jerks his head at Masen.

Alec laughs, leaning forward and punching him lightly in the shoulder. "Good luck with that. Remember what he's just done to the ex."

Masen scratches the back of his neck, uncomfortable.

"Sure," he says, looking anything but.

Conversation continues without much input from me. I sit and listen to them talking so casually about what happened; it makes me feel sick.

Who's dead?

Who's alive?

Who might be a problem?

The nausea grows stronger the more I think about all the things Caius said about Papà. What he's done to other people, what he's done to James.

And then I think about what Masen's involved with. The seriousness of it slaps me in the face, my stomach rolling.

Masen glances at me with a frown as I stiffen under his arm and stand rapidly on wobbly legs, ignoring the stinging of my feet, swaying as lightheadedness hits.

"Bathroom?"

I throw up as soon as the door closes, cereal bar coming back up, bile tearing at an already sore throat.

Rinsing my mouth out, over and over, I stare at myself in a tiny mirror above the sink, speckled black with age. There's the slightest bruise to my cheek, a hollowness in my eyes, that sticky, salty sea water feeling on my skin. There's a tiny shower and I vaguely contemplate having one but instead I sit on the closed toilet lid, picking at my nails, thinking. Struggling, with everything.

The weight of words that ripped through the fabric of what I knew to be true, harsh and unremorseful.

Caius wanted us all dead, but he wanted Papà to suffer the most. And he has. A dead wife, an estranged daughter. But he thought of me first. He pleaded guilty to keep me safe. Nonna safe. He gave up his life so I could live and all I did was throw it back in his face, screaming at him that I hated him. That I knew exactly what type of man he was.

And now I know exactly what type of man Masen is. They're one and the same and I'm not sure how to feel.

I inhale sharply.

The fact I almost died at his hands. And I can't help but love him despite knowing what he's done. What he is.

"Bella?" Masen's muffled voice comes through the door. "Ben got you some stuff. We're gonna have to make a move soon."

I open the door reluctantly, standing on the tip of my toes, trying to alleviate the pain, teeth gritted.

"You OK?" he asks, handing me a bag of things. I jerkily nod my head, trying to close the door but he stops me by placing his foot in the way. My hands retreat inside the sleeves of the shirts. "You're worryin' me."

I swallow, conflicting emotions warring with each other.

"Talk to me?" Masen says stepping in, closing the door behind him. "Please."

"Just… this was never—I don't…" I flounder. He steps forward, but I step back. Stopping still, his face twists in confusion.

"I'd never hurt you, y'know that, right?" he asks, deadly serious as he steps back, head tilting against the door.

"I know. I know that," I breathe. "It's just… just... you killed him, right? Caius?"

He's wary now, cautious, but he nods slowly.

I hear it in my head. The first shot, followed by the second, the feeling of something passing just over my head.

"Isn't it fucked up?" I whisper. "That you did that for me?"

I study him, his reactions, the realization hitting him. This is what he's been hiding; not involving me with this part of his life. And maybe I did have an idea but now I know. I don't know how to feel.

My boyfriend is a killer.

And yet I've never loved anyone more.

"It was him or you," Masen says, unapologetic. "I'd do it again. I'd have done it sooner. Trust me, I wanted to."

He sinks down slowly, so he's sat on the floor, like he's surrendering to me, like he wants to show he's not a threat.

"This is—this is who I am, Bella," he says, looking at his hands. There's a waver in his voice. "I made choices when I was younger and I gotta live with it. I gotta do what I'm told. I owed Alec. A lot of the time that involves doin' shit I'm not proud of."

"But… killing people? How do you live with yourself?" I say, the words harsher than I mean them.

He flinches, rubbing his face like he's trying to get rid of the tar he's branded with. "People… You heard the phrase 'live by the sword, die by the sword?' It's like that… sometimes it's kill or be killed. It's kinda expected in this business. It is what it is. None of those people were good people… but I ain't either."

I'm silent, staring at him in the dim light, sitting back down on the toilet, bringing my thumb up to bite at fraying skin around my nail. His shoulders slump as he watches me, sadness creeping in.

"This is why you deserve better than me. I'm the asshole who couldn't leave you the fuck alone. If I had, none of this would've happened. I've put you in danger as much as I've tried to—to save you from it. That's the fuckin' truth. You'd be better off without me and I know it. I knew it then. I told you."

He gets up and walks over to me, getting on his knees, taking my hand in his. I'm not sure what he's trying to tell me, but it doesn't feel good.

"Caius… There's been plans for a while to get rid... he's been a fuckin' liability for too long. Alec wanted to head up the family, wanted my help I—I named my terms…. Said I'd do it if I was allowed to get out. Go legit, no reprisals. It wasn't… I've held up my end. I'm out. We can go anywhere you want, live without me doin' this shit."

A distant memory stirs; a conversation between Alec and Masen I accidentally overheard months and months ago.

"I overheard that," I confess.

But go? Go where? I frown, chewing on my thumb before removing it, running a hand through crusty feeling hair.

"Go where?"

"Anywhere you wanna go. Demetri was talkin' about a couple of places your Dad still has… Arizona or Washington State, maybe. We gotta get you out of Chicago anyway. It ain't safe."

"Arizona?"

God, I miss the desert heat and proper, proper sunshine.

Masen smiles faintly. "Yeah."

My mind buzzes, a little spark of excitement at the thought but… I look at him and it makes my heart hurt. This man, what he's done for me, how much I feel for him, how much I want for him to not be caught up in all this mafia bullshit. How much I wish I wasn't caught up in it either.

I should be horrified, running for the hills... any normal person would, wouldn't they?

But I've never been normal, and that pull I feel for Masen is stronger than ever. I wanted him then and I want him now, despite everything. I can't imagine my life without him in it and I don't want to.

"I love you," he whispers, tugging at his hair. "I love you and I should've told you long before all of this happened. But… Fuck. Don't—"

I bring my finger to his lips, stopping him.

"Promise me no more of this stuff," I plead, tears crowding my eyes. "Promise you mean it?"

My face is suddenly cradled between his hands "I promise you. I promise on my life, B. You and me, baby. And as normal as we can fuckin' get. I promise."

A tear rolls, and he catches it, swiping it away with a thumb as I stare into eyes that beg. Beg for this. For us.

"When can we leave?"

The relief on his face is instant, he leans in, his mouth hot on mine, despite my half-hearted protests, because I feel gross.

He kisses me anyway.

...

The shower is nothing to write home about. It's pathetically low pressured, more of a dribble than anything else but I'm so glad to wash the blood, sweat, and grime off my skin, I can deal with it. Masen helps to wash the shampoo out, his mouth finding my neck, hands smoothing over my bruised hip.

"You're always takin' care of me." My lips find his, fingers tangling in his wet hair, before pulling back and touching his eyebrow, gently scrubbing at dried blood.

"Cus you're trouble. I called it, remember?"

I remember that morning at the pier; it makes me smile. He brings me closer but I'm covering my chest with my arm still. He frowns down at me. "Don't hide from me, these ain't nothing to be ashamed of. You're fuckin' stunning." His thumbs brush the underside of each breast.

"Felt mortified."

"Ben had to stop me," he admits. "Was ready to cave his head in and the rest of those fuckers. Shooting him was too good. Just couldn't risk it."

His lips are almost on mine again when the water turns icy cold.

I shriek, a shuddering gasp and switch it off hurriedly, spluttering.

There's no towels but Ben picked up a few clothes for me; leggings and a cheesy slogan t-shirt, even some boy short panties and a hoodie. I stifle a laugh at the thought of Ben buying this stuff for me as I pull them on, wincing. He even bought me hair ties.

They fit loose and baggy but I'm just grateful to be wearing something other than those shirts.

...

I'm quiet when we're back in the office, Masen cleaning and bandaging up my feet, talking with Demetri, Alec, and Ben about what happens next. I don't have the inclination to join in, I can't think that far ahead just yet.

The truth is all I want to do is isolate myself with Masen. It all feels like a bad dream; a nightmare I've woken up from, but the deep welts around my wrists are all I need to remind myself that it wasn't.

I busy myself tidying up Masen's eyebrows and fists instead, listening.

We've got to leave Chicago, there's no question about that. We can't go back to Maria's or Masen's, apparently the cops are all over this like a rash, so we literally have to flee with the clothes on our backs and nothing else.

Demetri is going to come with us, tailing us to make sure no one else is. The problem is, I'm not sure whether I can trust him yet, and I'm not entirely sure I wholly trust Alec, either, even if he tried to get his uncle to stop.

Alec and Ben finally make to leave, pulling Masen to the side, talking seriously with him.

Demetri distracts me with random questions. I answer monosyllabically, not quite in the mood, still concentrating on watching their mouths move, trying to lipread, but failing miserably.

Alec draws him in and slaps him on the back as they walk back towards where I'm sat.

"Brother, you've been at my side for what? Fourteen? Fifteen years? It's been wild," Alec says, bumping his fist into Masen's slapping him on the back. "I'll be in touch."

He turns to me and I hate the way he scrutinises me from head to toe. He puts his hand in his pocket bringing out my driving license, offering to me.

I take it from him, staring at it for a beat to long, a drop of blood on it.

"You take care now, Doll. Keep my boy on his toes, yeah?"

"I'm, thanks for this," I tell him. "And for… for trying to stop your uncle."

He appraises me.

"You know… if my uncle and your old man hadn't fallen out, we'd have probably been forced together, y'know? Married off."

"Alec," Masen says, warningly, wrapping an arm around me, a possessiveness there that I've not seen before.

"What? It's how our families work," Alec grins.

I choose to ignore him.

"Can you—I don't know whether you and Maria actually talk at all but can you let her know I'm OK?" I ask him. "Can you ask her to tell Char, too? And to take the blue bag from underneath my bed and hide it?"

Alec looks amused for a second. "Hiding bodies, Doll?"

I smile weakly. "Sorta."

Ben gives me a nod when I look at him. "Bella."

"Ben."

He fist bumps Masen, shaking his head.

"Never thought I'd see the day, bro. You sure she's worth it?"

Masen looks at me and smiles, ignoring the teasing and replying with a sincerity that makes me feel warm. "Yeah, man. She is."

...

We leave the garage not long after, taking one of the other cars, a much more low key silver Pontiac. Masen telling me we need to make a couple of stops before we get properly on the road.

The first takes us to his brother's house. He leaves me in the car with the engine running, coming back with his own cell two minutes later.

I give him a funny look but I don't ask, too tired to even want to know.

The next stop is a little way out of Chicago, in Evanston. It's affluent, for the most part, big wide spaces between neatly kept properties. He pulls up outside a house with a white picket fence, painted a dark grey-blue with neater than neat flowerbeds.

"Where are we?" I ask with a yawn.

"You'll see."

He helps me out the car before carrying me to the porch, setting me down and kissing me soundly before he presses the doorbell. I've got flip flops on, cushioned by bandages, pain dulled with more painkillers.

A girl with curly hair and glasses opens the door, a little cross necklace hanging from a lilac turtleneck. It doesn't escape my notice the way her cheeks pink when she sees it's Masen and I can't help but tighten my hold on his hand.

"Um, hi, Masen. Wasn't expecting you today," she says, shyly.

"Hey, Angela. Sorry, I should've called ahead," he apologizes. She smiles, eyes sliding to me.

"Sorry, where are my manners? I'm Angela. It's nice to meet you…?"

"Bella," I greet, giving her a polite smile as I shake her extended hand, pushing insecurities away.

"Bella—oh!" she says in recognition. "The girlfriend! You've no idea how much his Mom's been wanting to meet you—she's in the summer house!" Angela says waving us through the door.

"She having a good day?" Masen asks.

"Yup, she's really good today. I'll stick the kettle on, tea? Coffee?"

My eyes widen. He's brought me to meet his mom?

"Masen—" I'm pulling at his arm a little as Angela disappears. I want to tell him I don't feel like doing this right now but I stop myself because he might not get a chance to see her again after this. And after everything he's done, because of me, for me, I shut that thought out.

I take a breath, anxious, but then smile. "You want me to meet your mom?"

I've never really met a boyfriend's parents before. James was a product of the system, bouncing around foster families, living by himself when I met him. Anyone else was so casual it didn't warrant it.

Masen rubs my arm. "I know not the best timin' but I want you both to meet. I dunno when we're next going to be here, so..."

"Just look at the state of us though. What's she gonna think?" I sweep a hand between us.

"She won't care," Masen shrugs. "She ain't like that."

Masen's mom, Elizabeth, turns when we enter the glass-roofed room at the back of the house and just for a second, I still, because it's obvious to anyone that she was badly hurt at some point. Her face is disfigured; skin burnt waxy; wispy auburn hair on one side of her head; the other pretty much bald, a colourful silk scarf tied around it.

She's working on an easel, painting some kind of abstract picture with swathes of color splashed across the canvas.

Her arms come out to give Masen a hug, gripping his bicep and looking at his busted face for a second.

"What have you been doing?!" she scolds, in that motherly tone that makes me a little wistful.

Masen brushes it off, kissing her cheek. She lets it go easily and I guess she must be used to him. She finally looks at me and her face brightens.

"Is this Bella?" she says looking between us, Masen smiles broadly, arm coming around me.

"Hi," I greet, feeling wholly out of my depth. "That's me."

"Finally! Took you long enough," she jibes playfully at Masen.

We take a seat on wicker chairs, sun streaming in overhead and I watch Elizabeth fascinated. The way she breathes warmth in her words to Masen, her obvious love for her son. I don't know whether it's because I haven't been around a mother figure in years but I sit and watch her with rapt attention.

Angela brings in tea and coffee and disappears as I field awkward questions about my feet with half-truths. There's a surrealness to being civil and polite after the past few days, having to think on my feet with a brain that's not quite working right. Running, I tell her as Masen runs fingers up and down my arm encouragingly.

I take a big gulp of tea as Masen hesitates beside me.

"Mom, there's… Bella and me are goin' away for a bit. She's had a lot goin' on lately so we wanna get away from Chicago," he tells her. "Not sure where we'll end up or for how long."

She looks between us, understanding passing. " Oh bless you. Of course, all that stress with the court case can't have been easy for you. When are you going? Will you be around for your birthday?"

Masen shakes his head. "Leavin' today. Just wanted to see you before we head out."

Elizabeth takes it in her stride after the initial surprise has worn away.

"Well, you've always done exactly what you wanted!" she says, her tone light. "You best keep in touch though, not like when you went off last fall. Didn't hear from you for weeks. Worried me sick."

Masen promises we'll try and it only makes me feel more guilty that we're having to leave because of me. He disappears, leaving me and his mom alone.

Elizabeth takes my hand, her hands cool to the touch, a little too smooth on one hand.

"I hope he's treating you right," she says, echoes of Carlisle in her tone, as her eyes roam my face.

I smile genuinely. "He does. You don't have to worry about that. He's the best."

She lowers her voice conspiratorially.

"He came to me on a Saturday months and months ago. Hungover. Little boy lost. 'There's this girl,' he told me. 'I messed up, Ma.' Knew you were special then, he's never come to me with girl problems before, so I just knew you were different. Thought he'd blown it; didn't think that you weren't going to give him the time of day again. Told him a big gesture would go a long way to winning you over. Let her know how you feel, I said."

I flush a little, heat curling in my stomach. He let me know how he felt alright, mostly with his dick, but I wasn't going to tell her that.

"He showed up to give me a lift home from work." I can't help the smile that curls at my lips, as I remember seeing him there. "Asked me whether he could take me out. I didn't take much persuading. He was never far from my thoughts, after doing so much for me. Helping me with my ex… you don't forget people who go out of their way like that. He still does."

"You don't," Elizabeth agrees, beaming. "I'm glad he was there when you needed help. Big softie at heart, really. Always was until his father... well, until his father did what he did."

I swallow, looking her over, feeling like my past situation pales in comparison to her own. I utter something like that but she tells me every experience is valid, that we're all survivors.

I mull this over. Survivor. I like the term much more than victim, that's for sure.

Masen returns at that moment, a holdall slung over one shoulder.

"Ready?"

...

My bandaged feet are up on the dash, the window cracked open as we drive further and further away from Chicago. Goodbyes were short and sweet, promises made that I'm not sure we'll be able to keep but I hope we can. I liked his Mom, and I only wish he'd taken me to meet her before now.

My eyebrows draw together as we pass a sign. "I thought we were goin' down the 57?" It's what had been said, back in the garage.

Masen looks over at me.

"Nah, I wanna take you somewhere else first."

"Does Demetri know about this?"

"Well, he does now." He glances in his rearview mirror and I instinctively swivel to look behind us.

"He's in the black Volvo, two cars back. And he ain't stupid, I don't think for a minute he believed what I told Alec and Ben."

It's then I realize, despite everything, Masen doesn't trust Alec or Ben either.

I fall asleep somewhere after Rockford, waking up with the fleeting snatch of a bad dream, chased away with consciousness.

Masen slides a hand over to mine, a hush on his lips. He tells me it's OK. I drink water, breathing deep, trying to ground myself and stop the panic from consuming me.

"You ever think it might not be?"

He's said that a lot over the last few days. That it's OK. Mostly for my benefit but I wonder whether he actually believes that it will. That we'll be OK, after everything.

"You gotta hope…. I'm just glad you're here with me right now," he says. "I wanna believe we're gonna have an easier time of it though."

I listen to the rumble of the engine for a little while, the radio straining to be heard over it. "Sorry you got dragged into all my shit." I bring my lip between my teeth, tilting my head back.

"There's nothin' to apologize for."

"I could've told you sooner. About everything, my family. Who I am. It's funny you know, when he made me say who I was it felt wrong. Weird. I've never used that name. Like, ever."

"Isabella Falcone?"

"Isabella Marie Falcone," I correct him. "But I've been Bella for as long as I remember. Guess why my Papà chose it. Y'know, at four it wasn't too confusin' suddenly having a completely different name."

I pause, changing the radio stations as the one we listen to gets fuzzy, settling on something playing Guns N' Roses.

"Just wish bad stuff would stop happenin'. All this mafia crap."

Masen chokes on a laugh. "Mafia crap?"

I pull a face at him. "I know as much about the mafia as like, what went on in The Sopranos."

Masen proper belly laughs, my cheeks heating. "You serious? Never googled nothin'?"

"Too scared after I read my Papà's case. I was never brought up with that stuff, not like Alec probably was," I say defensively. "Even if Papà is who he is, Nonna was so normal… you'd never even think it… I didn't… everything was normal 'til I started questioning things, and all that's ever done is cause a fuck ton of problems… so yeah, The Sopranos."

I reach into the bag for some more painkillers just as Masen's hand finds my thigh, squeezing.

"Fuckin' cute as shit. I'll give you a proper education, Princess."

"Don't you start with that princess crap too," I huff, taking a gulp of water and downing the tablets.

For the next two hours Masen gives me a 101 lesson on the inner workings of the mafia.

When I ask about what he does and how he ended up involved, he goes quiet.

"Not today," he says, heavily. "Another time."