E.W.E.W Copyright © 2012-2020 xXMopelXx All Rights Reserved.

Chapter posted - August 28th, 2020

Yes. I know. It's been two years! Life happened, health happened, ya girl finished business school and got a bachelor's degree. I was busy making big moves! To all my old fans, thank you for your patience and for never giving up on Sam and Anna/Beer Boy and Barbie Girl/ Mom and Dad. To all my fans from the Bound To You series, thank you SO MUCH for being the best and for taking the time to interact with me through comments. I love you. To my IG fam, if you know, you know <3 Leave me a bee emoji if you're from there. xo

Please note: I've officially changed Jodanna's name from Jodanna Baker to Jodanna Reina Sereno to better represent her Brazillian/Scottish background. I'm no longer worried about writing diverse characters on this app. <3

If you're still here and reading, leave me a vote pls and comment your thoughts! I'm so excited to read everyone's reactions. Happy Reading!

Playlist song: Ariana Grande - Thinking Bout You (Sad Version)

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{ Chapter 43 } : Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the naughtiest Tesoro of them all? 

 "What happens now?" Sam asked as he watched – with forced calmness, might I add – Danny and Viktor putting a dead Juan in a body bag.

I was physically here, but it felt like I was glimpsing an out-of-body experience. This whole situation, as it unfolded, felt beyond me. In my mind, I stood on the sidelines absorbing the scene, but in reality, I was sitting right next to my boyfriend with a churning stomach and acid in my throat.

Viktor Ivanov didn't say a word. He arched his eyebrow at Danny, as if answering Sam wasn't his calling.

Both men looked to be twins, oddly enough, and not cousins. They carried themselves like they owned the world, but Danny appeared more world-weary in an I've-seen-and-done-too-many-fucked-up-things. Viktor was golden in his movie-star looks with a black comb over fade and expensive coat that no doubt hid a gun hostler on his strapping chest. But looks, as I'd learned, could be deceiving.

Danny cleared his throat as he finished zipping up the bag. "We take measures to stay safe, Rafe."

Viktor scraped a palm over his perfectly symmetrical trimmed beard. "I'll step out for a moment and let you all talk. Daniel call when you're ready; I'll be waiting."

At the sound of their front door clicking shut, Sam's shoulders deflated and the strong act he was putting on slowly began to crumble. I held his hand in mine, before affectionately running my hand over his hair. He leaned into my touch, trembling the slightest bit.

"You can't live here for the moment being. Take the next two hours to pack your stuff, I'm taking you to a temporary safe house – somewhere I know Henry or Diablo's men can't reach you," Danny informed us. "I'll also put my bulls on you. They'll guard you when you go out. I don't want any of you to be out alone at any time – it's too risky."

Tiffany nodded her head. She held a rosary between her slender fingers, her eyes glazed with a faraway quality as she murmured a prayer under her breath. For herself or the dead body laying in front of her, I wasn't certain.

"Anna," Danny's deep baritone reached me. "That includes you, too. You might want to have a conversation with your mother, so she doesn't call the police on the men watching your home."

I was already dreading the exchange with my mom. How in the world would I explain to her the magnitude of trouble I'd gotten myself into?

Sam squeezed my knee, veering my thoughts and gaze his way and gracing me with a weak smile that tugged at my heart in a painful manner. "It's going to be okay, Anna. We're going to be okay."

Would we?

* * *

Disappointing your parents was a hard pill to swallow.

In my whole life, I'd done it twice. The second time around did not make it easier. In fact, it was worse.

The pill choked on its way down, leaving behind a lingering taste of bitterness and regret. My throat stung from the burn of clogging emotions and the pill remained suspended, suffocating me, giving me a millimeter of leeway to fucking breathe.

I watched my mother cry tears of pain.

Isobel had a strong backbone and an even stronger heart that stayed locked-up in its iron-wrought cage. She rarely took it out. Her pride rarely allowed her to compromise her walls. And her pride was what kept a roof over our head and food on our table after my father died in cold murder.

Instead of breaking down and allowing the barriers around her once-perfect world to crumble, my mother, against all odds, forced herself to get up every night and day to work, work and work some more to provide Michael and I the life my father had always dreamed.

She cried once wrenchingly in my arms after my dad was killed. After that, I never saw her shed another tear. At least, never in front of her children. Or in front of the world.

Behind closed doors, I'd be willing to bet my left arm she cried a lot.

It was not to say that I hadn't caught her watery smile and nostalgic gaze when she'd glance at old photographs and memorabilia of my father. But the moment was gone as quick as a lightning prior to the loud clap of thunder.

We bear the pain inflicted by others, knowing it's being thrown at us because we can endure the burden.

The strongest get tested and the weakest get tossed to the side.

Isobel showed no weaknesses. She sacrificed her time, peace and even mental sanity to give Michael and I everything we could need.

I admired, adored and loved her more than I could ever explain.

Tonight, I'd broken down her walls with another sledgehammer.

"It's okay to show weakness, Anna." My dad used to murmur to me. "Admit defeat momentarily, only to pick yourself back again. Those who breakdown only do so after being strong for so long."

My mom had been strong for too long.

"Jodanna," she said, tears marring my mother's pale cheeks. "Is this really true?"

"Mom, I'm sorry." My own voice was laced with a quivering quality that couldn't convey the depth of my remorse or apology. "You must hate me."

You must hate me for always bringing you trouble – for always ruining everything just when you managed to pull through.

I broke my mom – and my dad – when I'd gotten involved with Joey. But I would never apologize for Samuel. What I would apologize for, however, was how our shitstorm was affecting my family directly.

She looked away, her profile highlighted by the sunset light peaking through the slacks of the blinds. My heart felt broken, like I needed to bandage a giant piece of gauze to hold it together so it could continue beating.

I'd just told my mother about the shooting in Tiffany and Sam's house, but I didn't tell her about the dead man. I didn't have the stomach, too. She'd probably book us all tickets for the next flight to Scotland or Brazil.

And I couldn't leave.

I told her how Danny saved us, and how we were no longer safe. I told her how I hadn't been safe for awhile...Ever since I got together with Beer Boy and how Joey and his brother were back to wreck chaos.

There was no use hiding how Connor had tried to put his hands on me, so I told her. She gasped, eyes bulging out of their sockets. I told her how Joey threatened me, and how he'd bruised my wrist and manhandled me. She started crying. I told her how I'd had a gun aimed at my forehead and how I thought that was the end. I told her about Connor and the shooting and...his death. How my body would have been violating a second time had it not been for Sam and Daniel.

My mother wailed like never before.

I told her about Sam's fighting and how it had gotten him in a substantial amount of trouble with the Donalds', who were back to haunt me, him, and our family like the plague.

It was a lot to take in for her. It was a lot to take in for me, too.

"I could never hate you." Another lone tear rolled down her cheek and I hated that I put it there. "I'm hurt, Anna, that you've hid so much from me. I'm your mother. I care for you. You are my child."

Heartbreak was a sad mirage over her features and it cut me so quick and sharp my insides ached with the realization of what she must be going through as I told her my inevitable situation.

I know she prayed to God for my safekeeping. I couldn't even do that right.

Every corner seemed as though trouble awaited me.

A fresh batch of silent tears rolled down my cheeks. "M-Mom, I was scared and I know I omitted truths, but please know that I thought I was protecting you. I have so much guilt for dad. For the longest time, I felt like I put him six feet beneath the ground. I've had such a hard time living with myself, Mom. Living with my reality and how I made it this way. I took your companion away. Michael doesn't have a dad. And for the longest time, I thought it was my fault. But Sam made me realize that no. No, it's not. Somethings couldn't be prevented."

"It was never your fault, Jodanna. Your actions with Joey were foolish and sped things up, but your father – he was already in deep with Henry. It wasn't your fault; you couldn't change fate's course. It killed your father that one of his own friend's was a filthy criminal. It killed him that he'd covered up his dirt for years without knowing what was really going on. Until he knew, of course. By then it was too late. We knew we were on borrowed time when your father got the authorities involved. This whole world is corrupted. But what happened then was not your fault, okay? Your father chose to come after you, knowing what may happen."

When I said nothing, she murmured again, "What's happened cannot be undone. Your father wouldn't be happy knowing you still feel this way. In fact, if he were still here, he'd say this whole mess was his fault – that he'd put his family in danger. But he's not. Times have changed. We've grown as a family. Derek would be so proud to see the person you've turned into today. You've acknowledged your mistakes and you've grown. So let go of your guilt, sweetheart."

Her words of reassurance finally allowed me to take the breath I'd been halting for two years. It was the first time we openly discussed this.

"You don't hate me?" I sobbed. "It seems that I can't stay out of trouble long enough for you to breathe, Mom."

She wiped at her cheeks, then mine, and held my face the way she used to when I was a kid. "I love you. You. Are. My. Child. I don't show it enough because you're so much older and I'm so caught up with work, but...I love you and Michael with all that remains inside of me. I'm mad at you, but I still love you."

I didn't look away from her as I sniffled. "I'm sorry again, Mom. I'm working on fixing it."

"I wish I could ground you for this mess, but you're too old for that."

I laughed a watery laugh, "I'm sorry, Mom."

She reached forward to clasp my hand. "I know you're sorry, honey. We are a family. We'll get through this; we always do."

* * *

"How does date night sound to you. Tomorrow. You and I?"

I smiled, but Sam couldn't see it. I continued gazing out my window, riveting on the beautiful melting sky. "Hmm. I don't know, Sam," I mumbled into the mouthpiece, shifting my phone to hear him better.

"You telling me you're busy? You have something better to do than me?"

Of course, I didn't miss the sexual innuendo.

"Hmm. No." From where I was, I could see Anton – my new bodyguard – outside, keeping a close eye on the perimeters of our home. He'd been here for a few days now, updating Danny, and following me or my mom whenever we left the house.

"Are you playing games with me, bellissima?"

I love playing games with you, but only because you enjoy them. "That's a new one – what does it mean?"

"Beautiful," intoned my boyfriend in his husky voice.

I loved how he taught me new words in his language every day. My heart had warmed over when Sam asked me to teach him Brazilian Portuguese, the bits I knew so he could converse with me now that my dad wasn't here.

"You dodged my question," he said when I remained quiet. I could practically see his frown through the phone.

Because life had been so chaotic lately and I needed a lighthearted moment, I teased him, "Sorry, I was distracted by Anton."

"Excuse me?"

I fake moaned into the mouthpiece. "My new bodyguard – he's so dreamy, Sam. I need to personally thank Danny for him."

It got very quiet for two beats. I fought a huge chuckle.

"Please tell me you did not just say that." He sounded a mixture of triggered and borderline cringe.

"I mean, I don't think I'll be minding that he's third wheeling our every date from now on. He's so easy on the eyes."

"Are you trying to make me jealous?"

"Is it working?" I laughed.

"I'm easy on the eyes." So jealous.

"Yes, you are."

"Honestly, if you're staring at this fucking Anton the way I think you are, your sweet ass is going to bear the brunt of it."

I definitely wasn't staring at him. I was staring at my ceiling, imagining all the dirty, naughty things I could be doing with my boyfriend. Or that he could be doing to me. Like spanking. He knew I loved getting my ass swatted by him.

But apparently, teasing was my middle name. I bit my smile, but it shined through my voice regardless. "Then come over. Show me. Prove you're not all talk."

Three seconds of silence.

"Prove?" he rasped low. "You love it when I'm bad, don't you?"

I do.

"I wouldn't have you any other way," I whispered, suddenly feeling an ache that instantly needed tending. "Sam, come over. I need you."

"Ah, shit, Anna. You know I can't. I've got a practice fight with Blade in ten. Otherwise you know I would be."

Sucking in a deep sigh, I pouted. "So tomorrow?"

"Promise. Keep your phone on you later tonight, baby. I'm going to call."

The line went dead before I could say goodbye.

* * *

It was 1 a.m. and there were no signs of slumber. My body was exhausted, but my mind was sharp and awake, racing with what seemed like a million thoughts a minute. Even the fresh scent of my lavender candles couldn't soothe or lull me to sleep.

Fascinating how when you wanted to sleep, it always evaded you.

Ever so gently, my eyes fluttered closed and I gently skirted my fingers over my champagne silk sheets, feeling the luxurious fabric beneath the pads of my fingertips like the soft caress of a lover. The moon was high in the sky, a beacon of light shining in the darkness of my room.

My phone pinged with a text, exactly like Sam said. I reached over my bedside table to check what he said.

You awake? – Beer Boy

I reclined back in my pillows, taking my phone with me.

I can't sleep. I'm thinking of you. I miss you. – Barbie Girl

Calling in two minutes. – Beer Boy

My phone barely had the chance to ring when I picked up. "Hi, honey," I murmured. "How was your fight?"

"Hey, baby," he croaked, sounding like he'd had the sails knocked out of him. I heard rustling on the other side, like he was reclining back into his pillows as well. "It was good. Blade went hard on me. My sides feel like they got hit by a truck."

The million thoughts in my mind slowed down until I singled out one and only one. I could picture Sam's strong body tangled in his black sheets, shirtless with a pillow propped between his arm and head, gazing at the window adjacent to his bed. Just like I was doing in this moment.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Did you ice yourself? Take painkillers?" I knew he could take care of himself, but I always worried that he wasn't doing it right and being negligent with his health.

Sam reassured me and we conversed for a while longer. As the minutes trickled, I grew more awake and it seemed like he did too, despite having gotten pummeled tonight in the cage.

"You don't sound very tired," I whispered.

"That's because I'm wide awake for you," he whispered back.

"Is that so?"

"I have a hard time sleeping knowing you're fully awake. You sleep better with me beside you, and it kills me that I can't drive over."

His admission melted me; I swooned. It was true. Sam could knock out the minute his head hit the pillow, but it always took me longer. Some nights, I'd catch him fighting sleep beside me, waiting for me, until I had reached the same state.

"So I'm going to stay awake until you fall asleep first."

Samuel Rafael Adams. Always saying the right things to make a girl – me – fall deeper in love with him.

It was on the tip of my tongue. Those three words. But when I uttered them, I wanted to see his face transform in that lone dimpled, heart-melting grin of his. I wanted to see his eyes grow warm with the feelings he was reciprocating.

For now, those three words would have to stay locked in the confinements of my vital organ. Where they were kept safe until I could bring them out and taste them on my tongue for the first time.

"You're the best thing that's happened to me, you know," I opted for saying instead, because it came closest to those three words.

That sentence was our three words. For now.

"Anna." There's a thick quality to the way he echoed my name. "You make it really hard being this far away from you."

"It's the truth." I didn't need him to parrot my own words at me, because I knew the depth of what he felt for me. Even though he himself couldn't convey it yet. I was a patient woman and I'd wait until the right time.

"Tell me," he rasped. "What are you wearing, baby?"

I fluffed my pillows, preparing myself. The wicked lilt entering the conversation meant we were headed in uncharted territories. Our night calls never took on this tone no matter how much we teased.

This was usually because Sam was in bed with me, having already glimpsed what I was wearing. He liked when I donned myself in silky, sometimes even see-through, little nothings to bed so his eyes could take full advantage.

If he were here, the garment I was wearing would be scrunched in restless fists. His chin would be tucked against my shoulder and his mouth would be at my ear, whispering all the naughty things he could do to me if I'd just fucking let him.

I usually let him toy with me a bit, playing my body like it was his favorite instrument. Yet we never got that far.

"I'm wearing my favorite pink slip," I mumbled breathlessly, my cheeks suffusing with color. It's the same one I'd worn one night when he'd snuck into my bedroom in the dark and showed me how talented his fingers were. "...You?"

I could hear him smirk through the line. "What do you think?"

I closed my eyes and struggled