by Blaire Drake
I was starting to wonder if I did.
“I do,” I said, much more confidently than I felt. “Mamma would hate this.”
“She would.” Gemma kissed my cheek. “Come back right after lunch and you'll be ready to go.”
I nodded slowly. “Thank you.”
***
“How do you know you can trust her?”
I dipped a fry into some ketchup. I wasn't hungry, so I was more playing with the food than actually eating it. I just needed to do something with my hands to keep me busy. Time was moving too slowly, and it was starting to wind me up. I just wanted it to be at least one o'clock so we could go back to the Gardarelli house, get what we needed, and get on the road.
“Addy.”
“Hm?” I looked up from my aimless dipping of the fry.
His silver eyes were full of concern, and he reached across the table. His fingers brushed the back of my hand as he forced the potato strip from my grasp and dropped it onto the greasy packaging. “What's wrong?”
“I'm just worried,” I said quietly. “If I can't trust Gemma, then I've just walked us into my father's trap, haven't I? And if I can... Well, then, this is really happening, and I'm walking straight to him. And even if I get what I want, is Darien going to be there to see it? Will he come back to New York? What if Enzio gets me first? What if he knows we're coming and is ready? What if this doesn't work, Hunter?”
“That's a lot of 'what ifs.'“
“What if Darien isn't even alive anymore?” I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat at that thought, yet again. No matter how determined I was to believe that he was alive, I wasn't naive enough to believe I knew it for sure.
I wasn't afraid to admit that I needed him to help me do this. I needed Darien by my side the way he'd been my whole life. The thought of him not being there...
“What if I told you that I know he's alive?”
I snapped my eyes up to him from the box of fries. “He is? How do you know?”
“I pulled Armo Pontarelli's number from your cellphone before I turned it off. I called him when you were in the shower this morning.” Hunter sipped from his glass of coke. “He's alive. Injured, but alive.”
I closed my eyes as the words rushed through me. I needed to hear it, but... “Why didn't you tell me?”
“Honestly, I was worried you'd try and get him to come with us. I still am.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I know you love him like he's your dad, but we can't risk going back to California, because they'll be waiting for it.”
“I know, and maybe I was considering it a little. I understand what you're saying, though. It's too risky to go back.”
He slowly nodded. “It's almost time for us to go back to the Gardarelli's. Let me go in and get everything from Gemma if you're really worried about how trustworthy she is. You'll soon know if you need to drive.” He smirked.
I thought about it a minute before it hit me how sensible that idea was. I couldn't say the idea of him putting himself directly in danger for me was something I liked, but it'd be a battle I'd lose.
“Fine,” I said quietly. “You go in. Say I'm sleeping in the car or something.”
“Got it.” He smiled. “Come on. Let's go now and get it over with, then we can drive. We probably have nine or so hours to get going together. We can probably stop close to Denver before midnight if we go now.”
I took a deep breath and glanced at the clock. It was not far past twelve thirty. He was right. If we wanted to stop near Denver before midnight—and I did—we'd have to leave now. We were in for three days of endless road, so the sooner we could start, the sooner we'd finish.
“Okay. Let's go.” I stood and shoved all our trash into the brown paper bag the food had come in. At least there was always McDonalds, right? Not that I'd eaten anything more than half a burger.
Hunter took the bag from me and stuffed it into a trashcan. He took my hand before pushing open the door. The humid air hit me like a ten ton truck, and I wrinkled my face up as we wound our way through the parking lot to the car. I got in the passenger side as Hunter started the engine, and I glanced at the backseat. We'd stopped by a couple stores before getting lunch since he had no spare clothes and I had hardly any. We'd also grabbed a bunch of toiletries from the drugstore, and miraculously found an overnight bag big enough for it all, but small enough that you could run with it quickly if you had to.
I had a feeling we'd probably have to one night.
If we didn't, then I'd probably die anyway of shock.
By one o'clock, we were pulling up outside the Gardarelli household. Although I knew Darien was safe, I hoped Hunter would come back with a phone number for me to contact him on. I wanted to hear his voice.
My palms got sweaty as Hunter left the car without a word. My paranoia was going into overdrive, and I was starting to believe, yet again, that no one could be trusted. Maybe not even him, although my heart said differently.
Hearts were liars, though. I knew that. Even if it was Hunter my heart wanted.
I didn't want to think about any of that until this whole situation was over. I wasn't dumb enough to believe I could head the Romano family alone—Mamma couldn't, and that's why she had to marry my father. Nonno told her as much. Women were respected and revered, but the mafia was still behind the times.
I could be queen, but I couldn't rule without a king.
A consigliere would stand in for me until I got married, but it had to be within six months, or that was it. My blood would mean nothing.
Why am I thinking of this now? Am I seriously considering marrying Hunter?
Well. We were in Vegas.
I rolled my head to the side and snorted at my own crazy thoughts. Maybe we could get drunk and draw stupid things on each others' faces like Ross and Rachel before we got married.
Oh Jesus. I'm seriously considering it.
This was why I couldn't be left alone. My brain focused on a future that was still hanging in the balance. And if I did get married to lead the family, did it have to be Hunter? No. There was no stipulation that feeling had to be involved. In fact, most people I knew married for power or for alliance. The love came after.
The back door of the car opened and I jumped halfway out of my skin. Hunter's quiet chuckle filled the small area, and I lamely reached back to slap him for scaring me. He only laughed harder as he dropped the small bag on the seat and got back in the front.
“Well?” I asked, staring at him as he turned the key in the ignition.
“Ssh.” He cranked the car into gear and pulled away from the house. When we'd left the gated complex, he finally spoke again. “Gemma made two sets of plans. One herself, one from Eli. She thinks Eli contacted either Isaiah or your father directly, telling him our plans.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he hates me.”
I sighed. “It's always you, Rosso, isn't it?”
He flashed me a mischievous grin. “Either way, we're to go to Gemma's bookings, not Eli's.”
“How do we know which is which?” I reached between the seats and grabbed the bag. I'd already pulled out a small notepad.
“Well, for starters, Eli's bookings are under Carlo Rosso and Adriana Romano,” Hunter told me dryly. “The man knows how to do incognito.”
“No kidding.” I ripped out that page and stuffed in the glove compartment. I wasn't interested in his shit.
“And Gemma's... Well, she had fun.”
“What did she—oh no.” I froze as I looked at the booking details for two motels, one in Breckenridge, Colorado, and one in Chicago.
Mr. and Mrs. Leonardo Conti.
I took a deep breath through my nose and glanced sideways at Hunter. His lips were tugged up on each side, and even though he was focused on the road, his laughter brightened his eyes.
“So... I have to pretend to be your wife.”
“We're on a road trip honeymoon,” he said. Way too cheerfully for my liking. “She even pulled o
ut a ring so it's believable.”
“All right, I'm all for preparation, but this is fucking overkill.” I dug further down inside the bag and pulled out a ring box.
“It's just a plain band. You only have to wear it when we check in and out.”
“Thank god for that.” I snapped open the box, looked at the white gold band—because Gemma would never settle for anything silver, god forbid—then closed it again and dropped it to the bottom of the bag.
“You say that like marrying me would be hell. Honestly, woman, yesterday you told me you still love me a little bit, and now you're making out that being Mrs. Carlo Rosso would be hell on Earth.”
I snorted. “Please. If we ever got married, you'd be Mr. Carlo Romano. Like I'd change my name.”
“Because it makes a difference.”
“My blood trumps yours, bitch.” I prodded his upper arm. Firm.
“Blood, rank, whatever. You trump me every way. I am but a lowly servant.”
“It's always nice when we agree on your place.”
He glared at me, but his half-smile gave him away. “If I didn't think leaving three hours ago was in our best interests, I'd drag you by your ear and make you marry me in front of Elvis.”
“How did we go from being fake married to you threatening to make Elvis sing to me down the aisle?” I shifted in my seat to look at him. “This escalated really quickly.”
“I was just saying about your extreme reaction.”
“An extreme reaction would be going into anaphylactic shock, and I'm not quite that allergic to commitment, thank you very much.” Only a little bit, and only because of the dire circumstances of my life. “Besides, I'm not even bothered about commitment. It's the 'kill or be killed' section of my life that makes it a little tough.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I'd marry you in a heartbeat, even if it meant dying for you.”
I froze. My heart didn't. My heart didn't get the memo. It beat uncomfortably hard.
“And I'm not the only person who would.”
“I was literally two point five seconds away from telling you that was the sweetest thing I'd ever heard, then you went and ruined the moment by bringing up Gaige.” I turned back around and looked out of the window.
I loved Gaige; I just didn't love him the way I loved Hunter. I loved Gaige in an easy, comfortable way. I loved Hunter with a soul-consuming passion, even if I refused to give into it.
“It's the truth, Addy. You can't escape the fact the guy is totally whipped for you.” His knuckles whitened as he grasped the steering wheel.
“Didn't we just have this conversation, oh, yesterday?” I snapped. “I don't want to talk about this, Carlo. I already told you how I feel about you both, and quite frankly, I don't care if you have your balls in a twist because you don't believe me. I care that we make it to Colorado and stop for the night safely.”
He relaxed his grip on the wheel. He didn't respond to what I'd said, and honestly, if he weren't driving and didn't have the power to ram us into a lamppost or something, I'd goad him into responding, because that was the kind of person I was. I wanted the final word on everything, but I needed someone to fight me for it.
That was why Hunter would always have one over on Gaige. He wasn't afraid to fight with me—Gaige, for the most part, shrugged and let me get on with it.
“You call me Carlo when you're mad at me. Have you noticed that?” he said a few minutes later.
“Not particularly.”
“You do. Rosso if you're feeling particularly put out.”
“I'm sorry, would you rather I call you 'babe' or something?”
“No. I'm not a 'babe' kinda guy.” He cut his eyes to me. “It was an observation.”
“You have a penchant for useless conversation,” I muttered. “Always have to talk. You're worse than a woman.”
“I swear to God, Adriana, if you keep up with your sass I will pull this fucking car over, bend you over the hood and smack your ass until you can't feel it anymore.”
I shivered at the hard tone he used. “You started it.”
“Are we five now?”
“Hunter? Shut up, or I'll bend you over the hood and smack your ass.”
He coughed to hide his laugh. “Yeah, sure you will, Principessa. I'm tempted to carry on just to see you try.”
I glared at him, kicking off my shoes. “I'm going to sleep so I can take over in a few hours. Don't bug me.”
“Yes, Boss.”
I turned onto my side as much as I could and rested my feet on the dashboard. I knew he was being a cocky piece of shit, but honestly... It was too funny, and if I was honest with myself, I quite liked the way it rolled off of his tongue.
Who knew? With any luck, I really would be his boss in a few days.
Chapter Twenty – Hunter
“If you'd just listened to me in the first place, we'd have been here twenty minutes ago,” Adriana huffed, slamming the room door open.
“I asked if you if I had to go left, and you said, 'right,' so I went right.” I followed her in, carrying all the bags like the good fake husband I was.
“I said 'right' as in 'yes, go left,' not 'no, go right.'“
“You should have chosen your wording better.”
“Oh, please. You're male. I could have given you the directions in neon freakin' lights and you'd still have gotten it wrong!”
I opened my mouth but quickly changed my mind. She was going to push this until I gave in, and honestly, I was too fucking tired to listen to her preaching her female excellence.
She was still shit at giving directions, no matter what she said. Who says 'right' when someone asks if you're going left?
A woman. That's fucking who. Like it makes some crazy ass sense in their minds.
I dumped the bags on the tiny table in the corner, catching the small bag Gemma handed me before it fell to the floor. I set it on the chair and took the key from Adriana. She tugged at the ring on her finger as I locked it.
“Great. I can't get it off,” she said after thirty seconds of trying. “It's too small.”
“Run your hand under the cold tap,” I suggested, grabbing the remote from the nightstand and turning on the tiny TV. It was late, approaching midnight, but there had been too much silence on the way here. I'd only slept on and off when she took over driving.
I didn't want to have another nightmare with her around. I'd scared her last night even if she denied it. It made me worried to fall asleep again tonight in case I had another and it hurt her.
They came and went without rhyme or reason. I wondered if they were being triggered this time by my failure to carry out Enzio's orders and the knowledge I'd be facing him soon enough. I hoped that was all it was, and that when all this was said and done, they'd disappear quickly and go back to their random appearances.
I clenched my fist, wondering if she'd yell if I took the bandage off. I was certain my knuckle wasn't bleeding anymore, but there'd been a tiny bit when she changed it when we stopped three hours ago, so I doubted she'd like it if I took it off.
She was so fiery it was worth giving in once in a while.
Only once in a while, though.
She'd get madder if I gave her everything. She secretly liked a good screaming match.
“There,” she said, coming in, holding the ring up triumphantly. “Off!”
“It's getting real offensive, you know that?” My eyes followed her as she retrieved the box from the bag and set the ring back in it for the night.
“It felt weird. Heavy. Kind of like a shackle. Like I'd never get away from you.” She shrugged and put the box back.
“Well for one, that's the general idea of marriage, and two, again with the offensive.”
She cut her bright blue eyes to me, and I swore she rolled them. “According to you I have my pick of men like I'm on The fucking Bachelor or something. At least if I offend everyone I'm good.”
“So dramatic,” I muttered, flicking through the TV cha
nnels. I fought to keep my eyes on the screen as she pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her slim figure and perky tits. It got even harder when she bent forward and pushed her jeans down.
She was doing it deliberately. At least it felt like it.
Fuck.
I shifted, discreetly adjusting my pants. I'd never had so many fucking hard-ons in my entire life. I suddenly knew how a pornstar felt. I needed to be inside her constantly.
Hell, I'd take my own hand at this point.
“I'm going to shower.” I dropped the remote on the bed as she climbed beneath the sheets. She watched me as I disappeared through the room into the tiny bathroom that connected to it.
Fuck, I missed the Hilton in Los Angeles. I was a snob, but whatever—I liked to have room to sit down on the toilet to shit and then close the door. This bathroom didn't even qualify as one. More like a goddamn converted broom closet.
I found a thin towel hanging on a rail and let out a long breath. Jesus Christ, I could tell already that it'd be like wrapping my ass in a porcupine.
I shut the door and stripped off anyway, then turned on the water. This room was pretty cold, but the sudden chill did nothing for my hard on.
I'd only fucked her this morning.
This was gonna be a long ass fucking trip.
I stepped into the tiny shower cubicle and looked down. Did I even have room to knock one out in here? I reached down as the water drained over me and decided that yeah, with tiny jerks, I could totally get off in the world's smallest shower.
I didn't have much of a choice. I didn't think she could take me a third time in less than forty-eight hours.
I turned my back to the door and dropped my head forward as I gripped my cock comfortably. I could feel the blood pulsing through the vein that ran along its length as I slowly moved my fist back and forth along it.
I felt like a goddamn creep standing here—more than before. She was in the next fucking room and I was standing here in secret like a teenager getting myself off.
There was so many things wrong with me I was running out of room on the sheet of paper to list them down.
