Her gaze returns to her lap as we slow, the speed limit dropping to twenty-five in the commercial area of this small town. She misses out on seeing the enormous statue of a red and white striped bag, promoting a homemade candy and popcorn shop. Kind of random, but I think she would enjoy the novelty if she would ever look up. I guess I could have put her on the passenger side but habit kicked in under pressure. Besides, sitting next to me might have been too close for her right now. When she’s used to being alone in her own head most of the time. When she’s used to being afraid. “You have to eat angel.”
I parallel park on the side street. Busy enough with the small library, Chinese buffet, and YMCA edging a working class neighborhood, the white station wagon can probably sit here for days without drawing much attention. Or at least until the device rigged to start an electrical fire detonates in sixty minutes. Eliminating the evidence we were ever inside. No fingerprints or hairs left to trace.
No one shows us any interest when I climb out, grab the duffel bag from the trunk, and slide open her door. Thank fuck she accepts my outstretched hand and doesn’t jerk her fingers away when I keep them tucked inside mine while I guide her across the street. I’d be a fucking liar if I said I didn’t fucking love holding her close. Especially as the temperature drops the further north we drive. “I’ve got a coat in here for you to put on when we leave.”
“Okay, thank you.”
A blue and orange neon sign blinks in the picture window framed with fluffy checked curtains, signaling the small diner is open. The scent of bacon lingers in the air, making my stomach grumble. Too early for the lunch crowd, all but one of the twelve tables is open. Two older gentlemen sit in the back corner with their white coffee mugs, solving the world’s problems. I steer her to the booth closest to the entrance so I can view the entire restaurant and both doors in and out of the sparse dining room.
“Thank you.”
Thank you.
All I can induce out of her. Nine fucking words in four hours, and she speaks only to be polite. When there’s so much I need to tell her. So much I want to hear from her. I can’t push. Not until I can get her home anyway. Instead I grab the menu tucked between the salt and pepper bottles while she unrolls her silverware and smooths the thin paper napkin across her skirt.
A tall woman in a camouflage sweatshirt, who walks with the gait of an avid horse rider, strides over and sets two plastic cups of ice water on the scratched table top. “Welcome to Betty’s. The daily special’s salmon patties, macaroni and cheese, and baby peas with pearl onions. We’re out of meatloaf.” She yanks a small order pad out of the dingy white apron tied around her slender waist and focuses her attention on Viviana. “So, what can I get for you, honey?”
Confusion lines Viviana’s innocent face as the lady waits for her response. Offering only a puzzled stare at the woman who soon grows impatient, tapping her pen tip on the green lined paper. Probably thinking there aren’t that many choices in this little cafe so the decision shouldn’t be so difficult. Or wondering why Viviana doesn’t peruse the laminated list of dinner entrees laying in front of her.
“Miss?”
Both of them look at me. Both of them wanting me to resolve this peculiar issue, unsettling for each of them. Albeit for very different reasons. “We’ll both have number seven, medium rare, fully dressed. Fries with one, onion rings on the other.”
The woman jots down my request and then smiles. Insincere and forced. Enough to reflect her irritation, yet not enough to jeopardize her tip. “Great. I’ll bring them out as soon as they’re up.”
Viviana sinks deeper into the cracked beige cushion, hugging herself while the waitress scurries off to the kitchen window. “I’m sorry I didn’t know what to do. I’ve never ordered anything before.”
Of course she hasn’t. Fucking Arturo always decided for her. Whether she liked his selection or not. Fuck, I’ve got to remember how sheltered she’s been. Remind myself how little life experience she has. “Don’t worry about it.” I nod to her glass. “Is water okay? I can get you an ice tea or Coke or something else if you want.”
“No, water’s perfect. Thank you.”
With a shaking hand she lifts the drink to her mouth and takes a long sip. As if proving her assertion to me. Keeping everything agreeable as always. Pretending she’s fine. Striving not to provoke an argument. Like she used to do with Arturo. Which she never should have to do with me.
Fuck me for scaring her. I smile and nod in my own approval. Hating how badly I’ve fucked this up. Despising myself for frightening her when I need to prove to her that she never has to fear me. “I’m sorry about what happened at the church. But, you have to know I’m not going to hurt you. You don’t ever have to be afraid of me.”
“You killed Bruno.”
A whisper so faint I read her lips more than I hear the sounds. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Actually I’m not. At all. But I tell her what I think she needs to hear. No doubt in my mind he deserved far worse, although she doesn’t need to know that. Probably unnecessary since she’s already been exposed to more brutality than any woman ever should. At least three other men killed in her presence since I’d been working for Arturo. Probably even more before that with his quick temper and penchant for immediate punishment. Yet, I still want to shield her from the savagery of our world as much as I can. “But he would’ve taken you back to Dante, and I won’t let that happen.”
She studies the damaged oak top. Running her fingertip along one of the deepest indents. “You killed Arturo too.”
Without a single fucking ounce of remorse. “To protect you. I will kill who ever I have to so I can keep you safe.” I lean closer to her. Covering her hand with mine to keep her attention on me rather than the crevices she nervously follows. “Including Dante.”
Nothing. No horrified gasp. No slap across my face. No jerking away from my touch. Or the threat I imply. The warning of what will happen if she tries to go back to him.
She just sits there.
Doesn’t argue.
Doesn’t fight.
Doesn’t ask.
This. This is what fucking frightens me to my core. I’ve stolen her away from everyone and everything she knows. Driven her in a strange car for hours and brought her to a restaurant she’s never seen before and she doesn’t even know how to fucking order food. Just goes along without complaint.
I could do anything I fucking want to her, and she’d let me. She’d fucking let me. Solidifying the notion that’s been floating for the past four weeks in my conscience. That I wasn’t even sure I still had anymore. Until I met her.
Not just that she’s mine. But that I’m not wrong in taking her. I can’t trust her to take care of herself. I can’t trust that she would survive in this world on her own. That she wouldn’t end up with some sick bastard like Arturo or Dante who’ll confine her to a new hell after I just rescued her from the old one. So, it’s Dante or me. His prison or mine. And it sure as hell won’t be his.
No second thoughts. No unnecessary guilt. No going back. I will show her that I’m what she needs. “If you didn’t make that promise to your father, would you want to be with Dante?”
A deep vee pinches her forehead, and she pushes back in her seat. Almost as if to escape from me and the question I ask. But I refuse to let her deny me or the truth. “Answer me Viviana.”
“No.”
Defensive in her tone yet accurate in her response. “Why not?”
Silence. Again. “Why not?”
She bristles from the authoritative tone that always works.
“I’m scared of him. Of the things he said he wanted to do to me.”
I can only imagine. Motherfucker. Struggling to keep my voice as low as hers, I focus on her sweet face. That soothes me like a fucking baby when she’s happy. “Then you should be glad not to go back.”
“I guess so…”
Confidence doesn’t pound as strong in in her voice as I would like. The a
rgument between her convictions and my assertion plays out in her expression. At war with herself to accept the freedom of being with me or punish herself from the guilt of her broken vow.
Too soon for her decide yet. I can’t expect her to shift her allegiance so quickly or easily. Especially when her loyalty lies with the ghost of her father. Who can never release her from her burden. Only she can do that for herself. With my help. I won’t ever stop trying to convince her otherwise. “Because I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want. You control what happens to you from now on.”
Which is only a partial lie. As long as what she decides to do includes me.
“Okay.”
Slim purple lines snake under her eye. The final visible reminder of Arturo’s last attack. Otherwise, her ivory skin remains flawless. Smooth and clear from youth as well as lack of sun. An ironic benefit of being held captive in your own home I guess. Pink blooms on her cheeks when she catches me staring at her.
Uneasy, she tugs down a flyaway strand. Smoothing down her slightly disheveled hair from the loss of her hat. That I’d love to wrap around my fist and yank her head back to suck on the tender skin of her throat. “What?”
No reason to lie. “I’ve missed you.”
A timid elation lights up her face that makes my needy cock stir with anticipation. Eager to make her mine in all ways. Intelligent enough to know it will probably be a long ass time before she’s in my bed.
“You have?”
Fuck. I’m fucking rock hard from the eagerness embedded in her whisper. Desperate for her own validation. “Yeah, princess. More than you’ll ever know.”
The admission earns me a shy smile. That fades just as quickly. Fidgeting in her seat, she opens and closes her mouth. Hesitation stealing her words. Even though she’s adorable, I can’t bear to let her squirm. “What’s wrong?”
“May I wash my hands please before we eat?”
So many fucking things wrong with that request. Almost as fucked up as the answer. She should be able to do whatever the hell she wants. Without my —or anyone else’s —permission. Yet she can’t go alone either. Even if she wanted to. Much too dangerous to let her out of my sight. Plus, we don’t need to draw any more attention than a gorgeous woman in an expensive purple dress and neck breaking stilettos eating in a rundown dive already does. “I’ll go with you.”
Relief draws another bashful grin to her luscious lips. Mimicking mine while I glide her off the bench and tuck her close, kissing her temple where my weapon had been shoved only hours before. Trying to erase that horrific moment with a loving memory. As well as make us look like one of those obnoxious couples exhibiting way too much affection in a public place and going everywhere together —even the bathroom. Contradicting my normal behavior of blending in with my surroundings.
Luckily, the old men in the corner study a newspaper spread across their table. The one in bib overalls tapping a gnarled finger on an article, while the other shakes his gray haired head, arguing the facts. Or seemingly the lack thereof. Lost in their own heated discussion about the budget and schedule for patching county roads.
Following a hand scrawled sign taped to the concrete block wall, designating the location of the restrooms, we stride down the back hallway. A single door. Perfect. Until she frowns from me following her inside. “I’m sorry, but I can’t leave you by yourself.”
She shifts on her feet. Pressing her hands against the wide black belt at her waist, fiddling with the gold buckle. Uncertainty keeping her immobile. No reason for shyness. I step closer, and tip my head down to her ear. “I’ve seen you naked angel. I can watch you pee.”
I feel her shiver all the way to my aching balls. Damn, I need this woman. Even though I probably shouldn’t, I kiss her again. A chaste brush of my mouth against her forehead. Greedy for the taste of her skin on my lips. Another tremor pulses under my fingers when I caress her cheek. “But I’ll turn around.”
Waiting to move again until the faucet squeaks behind me, I can’t help but smile. The rampant blush still flames on her face while she lathers her hands. Since she’s occupied, I take my turn. I chuckle to myself while she crumples the cheap white paper towel slower than I thought humanly possible to prevent her from catching sight of me. Or more accurately my cock. Much quicker than her, I go, wash, and toss my own waded up towel into the tall gray metal trash can. “Ready?”
Despite the awkwardness, she snuggles in close when I curl her against me. Which feels so fucking right. Regardless of all the other bullshit swirling around us, there isn’t any question about this. About us.
This time I lead her to my side of the booth and slide in next to her on the cracked seat. Might as well let her get used to me being with her. Of us being together. Always a lady, she demurely crosses her legs. The glossy edge of her shoe brushes my shin from our proximity. Accidental on her part but still fucking sexy as hell. I need to fuck her in those heels. Hell, I just need to fuck her.
“May I ask you something?”
Guilt courses through me from her wholesome tone. Obviously not at all thinking about what I’m thinking about. “Anything.”
“Where are you taking me?”
A place I’ve never taken anyone. Never wanted to. Ever. And for some reason I can’t get her there fast enough. “To my house. So we can talk in private without any distractions.”
“I’d like that.”
Not sure if she means the discussion or the privacy. Hopefully both. Since we’ll be enjoying them together for a very long time. “Me too.”
“Here we go.” The waitress interrupts our mutual confessions, setting a platter in front of me and then gliding the other plate across to Viviana’s side. “Double cheeseburger with onion rings, and one with fries. Ketchup’s in the basket. Let me know if you need anything else.”
She’s gone before I could tell her even if I wanted to. Which is fine. We don’t need her hovering over us.
“I’ve never had a cheeseburger before.”
Yeah, I know. She’s only eaten gourmet food prepared by a trained chef. Always healthy and portions as petite as her. When her fucking dick of a husband deemed approval for to actually eat. But that’s the past. Now she deserves to experience some of life’s best pleasures. I’m going to fucking love being the one to give them to her. “It’s full of fat and cholesterol with hardly any nutritional value. You’ll love it.”
I can’t help but grin, watching her figure out how to attack the massive sandwich, bigger than both her fists. Finally she cuts the beast in half, more manageable but still unwieldy as she takes an enormous bite. Her eyes widen before sinking shut. A sexy groan vibrating in her throat while she chews. Fuck yes.
“It’s amazing.”
Just like you are, angel. “Try the fries.”
I squirt a huge dollop of ketchup on the side of her dish. With a cautious swipe through the condiment, she brings the potato wedge to her mouth. Another appreciative moan while she chews. Satisfied with her obvious pleasure, I dig into my food. Trying not to think about my ravenous cock stirring to attention again from the seductive sounds she unintentionally entices me with.
After a few minutes, her slender fingers inch closer and closer. I’m not sure if she’s really going to steal one or not. But damn, she does. She really fucking does. Snags an onion ring right off the pile and gobbles down the entire crispy fried circle before I can respond.
Her giggle matches my chuckle when I gawk at her with feigned shock. Fuck she’s glorious. The first time I’ve ever seen her be mischievous or sneaky. Not sure if her behavior is normal considering all the hell she’s been through. I guess I don’t really care. She seems happy —happier than I’ve ever seen her —and that’s all I want. “What do you think?”
“They’re really good too.”
I push the platter closer, and we eat in surprisingly comfortable harmony. Going back and forth, sharing between the side dishes. She eats way more than I ever expected. Probably the first time she�
��s ever had the luxury of pigging out. The only meal she’s been permitted to eat however much she chooses.
“Can I interest you in any dessert? We’ve got homemade coconut cream pie.”
The waitress finally returns since she delivered our dinners. With her arrival, Viviana’s humor departs. Her attention returning to her hands tucked back into her lap. The playfulness stolen from the interruption. Damn it. “No, we’re good. Just the check.”
“Yes sir.” The woman rips a scribbled sheet from her pad and lays the bill on the table before grabbing both of our half empty glasses. “You can just pay me when you’re ready.”
The growing wail of a siren signals the real end of our meal. No time to wait for drink refills. I toss two twenties on the table, and lug the duffle bag out from underneath, yanking open the zipper to grab her coat. Her shy smile thanks me as I hold the jacket up for her to slide into. Luckily fitting perfectly since I had to guess at the size. I tug her close under the pretense of buttoning the black material closed and because I fucking love the feel of her body pressed against mine. “Don’t say anything when we leave. Just walk with me. Everything’s okay. I promise.”
Frowning from my whisper, she nods and allows me to steer her around the waitress and the cook, a short, beefy man venturing out from the kitchen now too. Both of them clamoring to look out the front window from the commotion outside. Several pick-up trucks with blue flashing lights surround the lone fire engine, while six guys roll out a yellow and white hose to douse the flames engulfing the dashboard of our former ride. A bit of overkill with that level of manpower for an easily contained fire, but at least they care about protecting their town.
Her fingers squeeze mine. Worry lining her beautiful face. “Oh no! Our–“
I tap my index finger to my lips and shake my head. Inferring my reminder, she keeps silent yet doesn’t loosen her grip while we hustle in the opposite direction. To the beige Camry sitting on the gravel drive next to a used car lot. Strategically parked to blend in with the front row of the dealer’s stock, the vehicle actually sits on private property of a bank-owned house. No one to complain about a random car in their driveway. “Right here princess.”
192: A Dark Mafia Bodyguard Romance Page 6
