Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Her expression changes, fear flickering in her beautiful honey colored eyes.
“You knew him?”
She nods, wrapping her arms across her midriff. “He wasn’t a good man. That’s not a revelation withThe Vultures, but he was one of the terrible ones.”
“They left some women behind, Crystal and a few others. One of them kicked his corpse and called him a rapist.”
She shivers. “That tracks with what I’ve heard. Are you okay?”
I wave a hand. “Don’t worry about me.”
“But I worry about you, Dom.” She lowers her voice. “I know I shouldn’t, but I do. What was ‘the kids’ name?”
“Bobby.”
She shakes her head. “He must’ve joined after I left. What happens to him now?”
“The mob would torture him for information. They’d do sick things – things that I won’t repeat to you. But I turned him over to the cops. I left the mob for a reason. I refuse to be like my father.”
She gasps, her eyebrows shooting up. “Your father?”
I grind my teeth. I didn’t mean to share that. “Let’s get some coffee.”
She takes my hand, squeezes it, giving me a meaningful look. Some of the tension flows out of me as I hold her hand as gently as a man like me can. Together, with Meatball trailing after us, we leave her studio and step into the kitchen.
As I make the coffees, she sits on the other side of the obsidian kitchen island.
“My father is the Don of the mob,” I tell her. “From a young age, he tried to groom me for power. But when I was a teenager, I became sick with it all. Sick of the bullying.The crime. The stink of it. Mob guys take what they want, just take and take, and don’t give a damn about the consequences.”
I stop, realizing what I’ve just said.
She tilts her head with a knowing smile, but there’s sadness in her expression that threatens to break my heart: a heart I thought was past being broken before I met Evie.
“Now, I’m doing the same.”
She stands, walks around the island, takes my hand and looks up at me with tears glistening in her eyes. “I can’t condone you taking me, Dom. But I can’t ignore the truth, either. I could’ve run today. I carried stepladders to the perimeter walls, and I knew I could make a break for it. But I didn’t. I stayed. Because–and this is hard for me to say–I wanted to. I want to.”
She pulls me in for a hug. I hold her tightly, gently smoothing my hand through her hair.
“Maybe we can forget about it for the rest of the night?” she whispers. “For a little while, we can steal this time, make it ours, pretend The Vultures and the mob and none of it exists. Just me, you, and Meatball.”
I clear my throat, shocked by how choked up I’m getting. “I’d like that.”
She looks up at me, seeming as surprised by the emotion in my voice as I am. “Wait here–I forgot your gift.”
CHAPTER 18
EVIE
When I walk into the studio to collect his cufflinks, I pause, looking down at the pieces. This feels like a turning point. I meant what I said back there; I want to pretend nothing else exists, just us, just tonight.
I’ve crossed a line. Somehow, I don’t feel like a prisoner anymore. I try to remember my ideals about not being manipulated, not succumbing to Stockholm Syndrome, but this doesn’t feel like that. This is something else. This is letting go, and it’s a relief I can’t quantify.
Dom is trying to be tough, trying to maintain his gruff exterior, but I know he needs me tonight. When he talked about the standoff at the cave, his voice was thick with emotion, probably more than he realized.
When I return to the kitchen, Dom has his back to me. The refrigerator door open. “How do you like your steak?”
“Are you going to cook for me?”
He gives me a wry look. “It’s the least I can do.”
“I like it well done.” He pulls a face, and I laugh. “I know that’s sacrilege. I can’t help it.”
“For you, I’ll make an exception.”
I approach him, my heart beating fast and hard. “I made you these today,” I say, offering him my cupped hand.
He takes the cufflinks, lifting them to the light, the delicate pieces looking tiny in his large paw-like hands. His eyes become boyish for a moment as he admires my work, the darkness draining away. “You’re so. Damn. Talented.”
A blush touches my cheeks. “I did my best.”
He carefully lays them on the counter, then grabs my waist and pulls me against him. “Seriously… one day, you’re going to have a successful business, making jewelry for the stars. I’m going to wear these tomorrow.”
I put my hand on his chest. His heart is pounding as hard and fast as mine. Maybe he knows that we’re crossing a line too, becoming something more than a prisoner and warden. “We don’t need to worry about the future, remember?”