EWEW - LWTBB 37: Mea Culpa

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E.W.E.W - L.W.T.B.B Copyright © 2012-2017 xXMopelXx All Rights Reserved.

Current Chapter Posted - Friday, August 25, 2017

There's my one-shot for Heidi Warren - Hunter's sister - on my profile if you want to check it out and help me out in the #spirituallyromantic contest wattpad is hosting!

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{ Chapter 37 } : Mea Culpa

"What the fuck did I just watch?"

"Anna, that's Sam's number, right?" Layla mumbled with a shell-shocked quality coating her voice.

With a shakiness I couldn't control, I fell back on my bed. My phone landed on the floor and any noise that may have erupted from my parted mouth was muffled by my hands.

No. No. No. No.

How could this be happening?

Nico and I had set the tone. We'd made it clear to Joey that Sam and I weren't together. Why was this being sent to me? Why was I still fucking being taunted?

"Anna - What the hell! What's going on?" Gabby and Layla were still buzzing around me like bees, but I had no answer for them. The only concern flashing in my head was Sam and Connor's knife.

What had they done to him?

"Oh, my God." I launched forward and grabbed my phone. I dialed Sam's number. I got his voicemail. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

I tried dialing him again. His husky voice teased me to leave a message after the BEEP.

"Anna, babe. Calm down and talk to us," Gabby crooned.

I heard the worry. Even saw it in their faces. Yet panic gripped the reigns on my vocal chords, tightening painfully. Nothing escaped my mouth.

I called Sam again, ignoring Gabby and Layla's matching expression.

The bell rang twice.

A husky voice answered, but it wasn't Sam's. "Hello?"

"Who is this?" The sharpness rolling over my tongue was more than enough to be considered rude, but I didn't give a fuck.

The sound of rushing wind and loud cheering filled the other side of the receiver.

"This is Cade."

"Cade..." I vaguely remembered him. "What are you doing with Sam's phone?" My voice trembled. "Where is he? I need to talk to him."

Dear God, count my blessing and please let him be okay.

"I'm babysitting his phone during the game. The Panthers are at Thompson High tonight."

Relief trickled in my veins and my shoulders sagged, the imaginary noose around my neck loosening barely. "Do you see Sam on the field? Is he playing?"

"Well, his coach benched him since he's injured. He's not really playing."

Thank God. He shouldn't be out there to begin with. "Is Nate around? Or even Nico? I need to speak to one of them."

"Sure."

It wasn't long before Nate's rumbly voice curled in my ear. "Anna. Hi."

"Nate, hey." I closed my eyes, breathing harsh. "How are you? I texted you because I wanted to know how you were doing after the incident. Sam mentioned you took a bullet and-"

"I'm fine now, Anna," he chuckles without humor, the sound dry. Obviously he wasn't fine. "Thanks for asking. My phone was smashed during the fight, so I didn't see your messages."

"It doesn't matter. As long as you're okay."

"What's wrong, Anna? Cut the bullshit."

I was cutting it. "I'm about to forward you a video. It's Connor."

He stayed quiet on the phone while I attached the file to a text. Nate viewed it. I heard his swift intake of breath, followed by a loud curse.

"It's a decoy. He's taunting you. He's taunting us. I don't know how he got his hands on Sam's jersey, but I'm going to show this to Nico. We'll figure out what the fvck happened. Stay safe and calm until then. I'll talk to you when I see you at Danny's. And, for God's sake, don't roam the streets alone.

"Stay safe as well, Nate."

The line went dead. I was relieved. But I felt despair.

The words of Sam's tattoo played a loop in my mind. Mea Culpa. My fault. Or some of it, at least.

I'd forgotten Layla and Gabriela were still in the room. This is what happened when Sam was concerned. The world around me blurred and melted into nothingness. The only person that mattered was him, like he was the sun I revolved around.

When my friends' enquiring gazes continued to drill me on spot, I made a decision. No more hiding, running from truths. If something was happening in their lives, I'd want to know because I'd want to be there for them. The world was harder to bear when you only had the strength of your shoulders.

"I haven't been the most honest with you," I told them, misery bleeding into my eyes. "I know I have the bad habit of keeping things to myself, bottling them, until I explode. It's not fair to me, and it certainly isn't fair to the people who only want to be there for me...Like you girls. So, I need everyone to be patient and just listen to me. I want to relay everything that's been happening lately. It's going to sound insane and unreal, but I really need my friends to believe in me."

"We've always believed in you, Jo," Layla muttered, a sad grin curling her mouth. "It's you that didn't believe enough in us to tell your part."

"Let go of your demons, babe. They don't have to keep taunting you." Gabby wrapped her arms around me and gently pressed my face in her chest. Like a little child, I closed my eyes and lost myself in the embrace.

Layla squeezed my hands with her own. "Talk to us, Anna."

They listened to me carefully as I told them everything from the start.

* * *

Mea Culpa. My fault.

A chill blanketed the fall, mid-October breeze.

My lungs hurt with every pull of breath.

There was a lingering tension in the air I breathed, like the drop in temperature was mirroring the inner-battle I was having with myself. It was cold and callous. My own thoughts cutting me down. Mea Culpa. Those simple but powerful words made it hard to decipher my self-loathing from actual sense. They shot a fog in my mind, clouding all rational thoughts. It wasn't my fault. But it was easier to believe so. For me, it had always been easier to harbour the blame on my shoulders, rather than passing it on to another. Mea Culpa treaded in my veins until it had invaded all of me, owning my body in this moment. Owning my breath. It's as if, every time I exhaled my breath, I polluted the air with Mea Culpa and my guilt, amplifying the soul-suffocating tension.

What would it take to breathe and not inhale sin?

My knees buckled. Gravity was a thing of its own. But I had no care for it. I never touched the ground.

Not when Sam's gaze swung to mine and grounded me. It was, as well, a thing of its own.

My car remained parked haphazardly on the curb as I ran up his driveway towards him, my long strides eating up the distance between us. He was waiting for me, languidly leaning against his bike with his arms and ankles crossed.

The noisy clatter of my footsteps. The quickening beats of my heart. They were equals. They felt like one as I neared him. They split once I reached the root of my confusion, moving at irregular patterns.

Sam's arms caught me, like they'd done so many times.

It was when our gazes collided that I realized, fvck Mea Culpa. He'd always been right. My anchor, holding me down from the moment he'd met me. He'd shown me guilt had no business residing inside of me. Time would sink it in.

His motorcycle rattled with our combined weights but he held onto me, even when I wordlessly wrapped my legs around his waist and delved my fingers into his hair, holding his forehead to mine with all the strength I could muster up.

I took a deep breath.

Sam's exhale was my inhale and then, suddenly, the tension was gone and the air was purified.

"You're okay," I whispered against his mouth. I squeezed my eyes closed, fighting the mental image conjured from thoughts of that video. "You're alive."

"I'm not leaving you anytime soon, baby," he murmured back, letting me tuck my face in his neck. He smelled fresh and clean and of something that was all male and him, showered after his football game. When Sam buried his face in my neck, I realized he needed this as much as I did. "Nate showed me the video. Someone broke into Nico's car and got my spare jersey. They burned it in the woods behind the field and sent it to you. It's a message. They're getting impatient and want my answer."

"They know we lied, Sam. They know you and I are still together if they sent that video to me."

"Your ex-boyfriend and his friend are sick fucks, but they ain't stupid. They saw right through you and Nicholas, and retaliated harder. The fight behind the alleyway was them setting the tone, brutally and bloodily. Not you, baby. And, something tells me, if I don't answer yes soon, there will be more bloodshed. We came close to loosing Nate forever. I'll be damned if I lose anyone else. They're desperate, Anna."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I made it worst with that stunt we pulled at Devil's. I showed Joey I gave a damn about Nico, that I valued Nate, and that I cared about you enough to lie about our relationship. I fucked it all up when I just want to make. things. right."

He held me close and kissed my cheek, adoration shining in those green orbs. "Anna, we'll figure it out. Together."

I touched his rib, over his tattoo. He glanced down at me curiously. When I pressed on it meaningfully, his face transformed and anger took charge. "Never, Jodanna. It's not your fault."

It sure felt like it, I thought to myself. "I need you alive, Sam."

"And I need you, too. Let's leave it at that."

I could do that. I traced his features, my eyes lovingly tracking every detail, despite the bruising marring my Italian daredevil's handsome face. "Are we going to Danny's now?"

Sam combed his fingers through his still-wet hair and tugged mercilessly at the strands. It was a bad habit of his, I realized. "In a bit. You cold?"

"Freezing. Can you tell?"

Samuel dropped to the ground, sitting with his knees propped up. I was still in his lap. "Hell yes. For starters, you're wearing jeans and a leather jacket. I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen you wear those. Secondly, your cheeks are flushed."

"I wasn't counting on it being so chilly." I smiled sheepishly.

"Let's warm you up." The words were said with a playful smile that guaranteed loads of mischief.

He stripped my leather jacket until it bunched at the crooks of my elbows. He appreciated the cleavage my tube-top enhanced. "Was wondering where you'd be showing skin, 'cause I know just how much you like to do that." The gleam in his eyes was daunting. "I'm not disappointed."

I stifled a laugh that soon turned into a sweet sound that was music for his ears, as he kissed my décolletage with a brazen quality. "You're shameless. We're on your driveway in the middle of the evening. Anyone can walk by and see us."

"I don't care, Anna. That's the fun in it. Be wild for me. Live a little, Tesoro."

It was on the tip of my tongue; all I've ever done since I met him is live.

Sam softly trickled his kisses to my ear, where he dropped a strong whisper. "Sei la mia debolezza. You are my weakness."

The saying eyes are the windows to the soul was personified in front of me. Because I saw it echoing inside of him - his soul glimmered in the depths of those emeralds as he gazed at me like I was it.

My Beer Boy continued thawing my ice by whispering soft Italian words and kissing all over my exposed skin until it was time to go.

Sam had no idea how much trouble his words stirred inside of me.

Because he, too, was my weak point.

Look at what I'd already done.

* * *

Danny's Grill was closed for a private party.

Sam parked his bike in the back lot and ushered us inside through the rear exit. It was weird seeing the inside of Danny's with no one. The place seemed more spacious without it's usual busybodies buzzing around.

Before we could join everyone in the private room management kept for catered parties, Daniel Ivanov's tall body blocked our entry.

"Sam." His knitted eyebrows smoothed out as he cast him a look of relief. Then, in a brotherly-fashion I wasn't expecting, he cupped Sam's chin and twisted his face this-way-and-that-way to get a better look at his bruises. "What did I tell you about those fights?"

Sam chuckled and, not forgetting me, wrapped an arm around my waist. "That I shouldn't participate in them. Tough shxt, Danny. I'm actually good, so you should come see me before Richie stops inviting you. Oh, by the way, this is my girl. Anna, I believe you guys already met."

I gave him a timid smile. "Hi."

Danny's gaze perused me, and a slow smirk spread across his mouth. It was a combination of amused and mocking at the same time. "Finally. It's a pleasure to meet you again, Anna."

He had a slight accent, but it only added to his attractiveness.

"Danny I know my girl's gorgeous, but stop drooling over her, 'kay?" Sam tutted like a jackass. "Let's get down to business now, hmm?"

Obviously, despite Sam's cocksure grin, he was just teasing. Danny knew it, too.

Danny rolled his eyes - as if Sam exasperated him like a little brother - and motioned towards his office. "Follow me."

I was a little reluctant; something about Daniel unsettled me. It wasn't just his looks - pale skin, glacial-blue eyes, midnight-black hair, and tall, lean physique. It was the way he carried himself. Like he owned the earth he walked on. He seemed larger-than life. But there was a hint of danger carried with his swagger, and not the fun-rebellious kind.

I remembered being in Daniel's office all those weeks ago, the first time Connor tried to lay his hands on me. It was still immaculate today, everything in crisp, sharp order.

Danny closed his door and walked over to a wing-backed leather throne. He gestured for us to sit in the spare chairs before his dark oak desk. He didn't lower himself though. He stood standing proud and even sinister from our angle. With folded arms across his chest, he grunted, "Talk."

Sam pushed his fingers through his hair again. "I'm in trouble, Danny. Actually, we're all in trouble."

"Stop keeping me in suspense and spill it the fuck out."

For a second, Sam resembled a little child getting schooled by his older brother. Sam told him the entire fiasco. With every sentence he uttered, I felt myself shrinking under Danny's murderous glare.

"So, as you see, I think I'm in serious shit and I might just die."

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose, and I distinctly heard him counting to ten under his breath. "Just so I'm clear. You took a drug-addicted fighter - who's four years your senior - out during a match two years ago. He went to rehab, and now he's back because he wants your blood, your rank, and a way back into the underground circuit. More importantly, his dad - Henry motherfvcking Donald - is bat-shxt crazy and owns more than half of the land in our city. Oh, let's not forget that the Donalds' operate under the supervision of crime organizations. Their son Boxer or Baxton or whatever, used to fight matches for these drug lords to make them and his father cash. So, the fact that you took him out, means you took out a chunk of their income. You fvcked with the money of the people who can put a bullet through your fvcking skull faster than you can say fvck-my-life. Even better is that your current girlfriend, who used to be Henry Donald's youngest son's girlfriend - banger plot twist, by the way - is being blackmailed so you can take the fvcking fight. Oh, and this fight is basically 'till the end. So, you either die or you win, only to die anyways. Obviously, they're not going to let you live since you already know too much about them, and winning means you've killed Baxton. But, wait a minute, you don't have a choice but to lose. Wait for it, we're about to reach the climax. So, if you don't lose, they're going to kill you, your girlfriend and her family, and anyone else you care about. Hallelujah, let's rejoice. What a brilliant ending, Sam. I'm wiping tears."

Sam started clapping and pretended to wipe tears. "Halleluiah, Danny. The Lord has shown you the light. You understand. Let's cry together, brother."

Daniel sizzled, shooting off the door. "I'm going to fvcking kill you, Sam! Is this a joke?"

Sam blinked. Then looked at me. I blinked. "Nope. You basically summed it up."

Danny cursed in Russian (I only knew this because Sam told me about his background before we came over). "You had anger? You needed an outlet? Jesus Christ, Rafael. Couldn't you have laid low and joined the volleyball squad like your sister or something? No. Even though I told you so many times. That would have been too easy for you. You had to go and fight for Richard."

"I didn't go fight for Richard! I may be one of his fighters, but I fought for me."

Danny turned to stone in front of our eyes. It was a scary thing to see - someone so eerily calm on the verge of loosing control. The last time I'd seen Danny, he had ruthless vibe to him. It was about to crack. I wasn't interested in seeing it crack. "Samuel, now that you've laid this out, what do you want from me?" His voice dripped with ice.

Sam's gaze never wavered. He stared at Daniel like an unabashed hero. The way I often saw Michael staring at Sam. "Brotherly advice. I don't know. Some help."

"You need my protection, Sam."

"Is that what you want to call it -"

"How many?" Danny snapped.

"What?"

"How many of your guys are affected? I need to know so I can do damage control."

Sam leaned back in his chair. It caused a creaking sound. He shifted, looking uncomfortable. "We're half a dozen guys who fight for Richie. I don't know who the Donalds are going to go after next. They've been physically threatening, Anna, and I need this shxt stopped. I need to protect her. But I also need to protect my guys. Nate got shot, you know. I almost watched him die."

Danny nodded his head in understanding, even though there was a storm blazing inside of him. "Half a dozen guys, right? That means you need half a dozen of mine."

Sam swallowed thickly. "Danny, you know I'd never come to you unless I was in deep waters. I am now."

"I wish you'd come to me sooner, Sammy."

"I...Fuck, I thought I could handle it. I didn't want to get you involved either because I need you safe too, you know? This might be asking a lot and I swear I'll owe you one. But I just want someone to protect Anna and Nate."

I reached forward to grasp Sam's hand. Didn't he get it? I needed him protected too from this mess.

"-Ravenna was right." Danny paused, shaking his head and smiling ruefully like , like an old inside joke struck him. "Sam, I care for you like a brother. You don't owe me shit. Your safety is my concern. But to help you, I need details on the fucking Donalds. If you find out anything more, tell me."

Sam and I shared a look. He cleared his throat, hiding a wince, and glanced at Danny. "Anna's father was involved with Henry and, well, the Donalds' business dealings extend to potentially the mafiosos...and even the cartel."

Danny cracked, his impassive facade crumbling before us. "Why am I not fucking surprised?" Danny's jaw locked and he gazed at a painting behind us,

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