“We should have,” my mother states dramatically. “This one is running out of the house.”
“You’re seriously going to work?” Sienna asks, surprised, taking in my attire. “Weren’t you told not to leave the house?”
“You left yours,” I point out.
“To come here. That’s completely different from going to Manhattan.”
I shove away from the counter. “My father only said to stay here because I always do what he says. Not anymore. After what I went through”—I take a deep breath—“I’m not the same girl.”
Sienna tilts her head as she drops her toast. “What happened to you that night?”
I put my plate with the uneaten piece of toast down. “Jesse saved me. He was able to get me out the front door, so I ran out and hid in the bushes for a few hours until it was safe to walk.”
“She says ran through the gunfire!” my mother shouts.
“The hot bartender saved your life. That’s so sexy,” Sienna purrs.
I cross my arms and try to explain the situation to them, “There was nowhere to go once the dining room doors were locked, so I couldn’t get in. It was frightening. And all I could think about was my family. When I returned home, I found out my father had left through a side window and taken off. He hadn’t even tried to rescue me.”
Having these days to process everything has altered my thinking dramatically.
My mother tries to reason with me. “Amelia, you have no idea what your father did. He’ll explain it all when he returns.”
“From where? What do we know about what Dad and Uncle Frankie do? Why were there men at the club, trying to kill them? To hurt Uncle Vic? I find it hard to believe that I’m the only one who wants answers to these questions.” My words fall on deaf ears, and I’m starting to think they’re not as in the dark as I am. “I have a bus to catch.”
“What time will you be back?” My mother follows me out the door to my car, which miraculously appeared at my parents’ house before I was even back from escaping.
“I have my own place. I’ll be sleeping there tonight.”
“You can’t.” The worry in her voice makes me stop and sigh.
I drop my bag on the front seat and then walk toward her. I raise my hands and drop them with a deep breath.
“I’m sorry I’ve been short with you, but please understand, I need this. I was there Friday night. What happened wasn’t normal. None of this is, and I crave the normalcy of my life. You want to act like nothing happened? Fine. Let’s get back to business as usual, unless you can give me a solid reason why I need to stay here as captive. If you’d just open up to me I can share your burden.”
Her body sways as she places her hand, lovingly, to my cheek. The worry of her lip combined with that steadfast determination in her stare. Joanne Sorrentino will never give up her husband’s secrets. Not even to her daughters. “I hate that you’re such an independent girl. What happened to my rule follower?”
“She’s grown up.” More so over a weekend than in a year. “I promise I’ll call every hour.”
I slide into my car and back out of the driveway, ignoring the stares of Sienna’s guards in the car next to me.
There are only three ways to get to my Manhattan office. Driving takes forever in traffic, and the ferry is out of the question. I like the MTA Xpress because it’s fast, convenient, and I can take a nap if I need to.
I park along the busy street where the bus to Manhattan runs and get out. There’s a black Lincoln on the corner that’s similar to Dad’s friend Rocco’s. The driver has on dark glasses and looks to be staring at me. When I glance back in his direction, he turns away as he pulls from the curb.
The screeching sound of the bus brakes gets my attention, so I jog over to the end of the line of people waiting to board. I take out my MetroCard and swipe it when I get to the machine. The driver doesn’t notice me or smile. That’s fine with me. I can use some anonymity this morning.
There’s an empty row of seats at the back. From here, I can see everyone who gets on and have the least chance of someone sitting next to me. I settle in and put my earbuds on.
The bus is pulling away when someone runs alongside and bangs on the glass door. The driver begrudgingly stops and opens the door, scolding the person for halting the bus, especially in the dramatic way they did after it had already departed.
I look down at my phone to pick some music when I remember that it’s dead. Perfect.
And just when I think my morning can’t get any worse, I glance up just in time to see the last-minute passenger walk to the back of the bus, making my jaw drop and my heart race.
Jesse takes the seat beside me. He’s wearing a white T-shirt and a black baseball cap with the brim low on his head. My heart aches, my eyes glaze, and my brain tells me to get a fucking grip.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him, my tone a mixture of concern and annoyance.
“We need to talk.”
For a girl who hates enclosed spaces, this bus just got awfully small.
Chapter Five
My first reaction is elation. He’s here and okay. Then, defensiveness kicks in.
Facing the large windows, I try to ignore him as I get my feelings in check. It’s damn near impossible. Just the sense of him being near, the way his arm rubs against mine, and the scent of his cologne have me bouncing my knees in my seat.
“How are you?” he asks.
I swallow hard and keep my eyes focused out the window. “Fine.”
“You seem angry,” he says softly.
I turn my back to him fully. His reaction is clear in the window’s reflection. With his head bowed down, he adjusts his legs in the seat. They’re spread wide and he’s fidgeting with this hands.
“Like I said, I’m fine. Made it back safely after you pushed me out of the house.”
“I know. I sat outside your parents’ house all night.”
My hair whips in my face with how fast I swivel my head toward him. “You what?”
“After I got home, I got in my car to check on you. I’ve been camping out on your corner ever since.”
“You don’t look like someone who’s been sleeping in his car.”
He runs a hand along the back of his neck. “I might have left to run home and shower before seeing you today.”
I’ve only ever seen him in his black uniform, and here he is, in jeans and a T-shirt, construction boots, and a ball cap, making him look like an ordinary joe. A very handsome ordinary joe. From his dress, husky tone, and how he’s cornered me on this bus, he most definitely does not want to be recognized.
“Quite the covert operation you have here.” My tone is snarky.
“I can’t risk anyone seeing us together,” he whispers with a sense of urgency, his voice strained.
I quirk a brow. “Is that because you work for my uncle Frankie?”
He holds my gaze.
I hold his back with a challenge as my jaw clenches to keep myself from showing how weak this man can make me. Weak in the knees, in the heart … but not in the mind. “Or does it have something to do with the man who picked you up?”
A silent curse escapes his lips.
“I’ve never seen him before, so it’s time you stop lying to me.”
“You were supposed to be hiding.”
“I was.”
His eyes are red-rimmed, like a man who hasn’t slept well, yet his body is radiating more energy than it should. The man is used to not sleeping or else he wouldn’t function with as much vigor as he is right now.
“I’m sorry for the way I pushed you out the door, but it was for your own good. I never would have done that to you, especially after the moment we shared, if I didn’t absolutely care about you.”
When his hand rests on my thigh, I look down at it with a sharp inhale. I want to push his hand away, but I want it right where it is even more. A passenger in the row in front of us on the other side of the aisle notices us. Jesse curves his
body, so he’s angled toward me, blocking her view of our conversation.
His head bows into the side of my face, and his mouth rests beside my jaw. “I’m sorry the night ended the way it did. I want you to know that what happened between us—”
“Who was that man?” I cut him off because I can’t relive the intimacy. I need answers, yet by the way he’s closing his eyes with a curse, I know I won’t be getting any. “Let me guess. You can’t tell me. This is exactly why I am so confused. Everything has exploded, and everyone is lying to me. Even you.”
His gaze grows dark in a sad way. “Amelia, I am trying to protect you.”
I want to believe him, yet after seeing that man with him and knowing there are secrets between us, it makes me hesitant.
His hand inches higher, sending a flicker of desire to my chest. I don’t know if it’s intentional, but it certainly is enough to bring back the memories of those hands on me, in me. I quiver at the memory, forcing Jesse’s fingers to tighten on my skin.
The bus is now driving on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. The Manhattan skyline is faintly in view as he leans his forehead against mine. “This is so fucked up.”
“That’s an understatement. I’ve been a mess all weekend. If I had known you were outside, I would have gone to you.”
He sits up. “I wasn’t lying when I said no one can see us together.”
“Then, why the hell are we together on this bus?”
His jaw tightens, and his mouth pinches. “It’s the only way I could think of to see you without being seen with you.”
“Charming.”
“What did you say to your mother when you got back?”
I pull away from him, lifting his hand and dropping it off of me. “That’s why you’re here? My mouth is shut. Don’t worry.”
“Please don’t be like that.”
“What do you want?” I ask. It obviously isn’t just so he can see me.
“I need to find your father.”
“And I want answers.”
He grits his teeth and swears to himself before relenting. “The Lugazzi family is the one who put out the hit. That’s common knowledge. He’s been verbally upset for a while, and his men were quickly identified as the ones who had ambushed Villa Russo. Everyone knows, including your mother. And I think”—the hesitation in his voice is palpable—“it has something to do with you.”
“Me?” My voice is loud, too loud. “No. My mother even said women and children are off limits. It’s some sort of code whatever that means.”
He holds me close and hushes me as he looks over his shoulder.
When it appears safe that no one is listening, he continues, “It was code until one of those bastards walked into the Oak Bar and aimed his gun at you. Once that happened, all bets are off and I’m trying to find out why. There’s been some chatter on the wires. Your name and your job at DeLuca & Associates come up a lot. Do you know why?”
I strain my neck as I slowly lower it, taking in this information while wondering what the hell he’s talking about.
“Is that why my parents want me to stay with them?”
He shakes his head. “They don’t know any of this. Keeping you at their house is their way of keeping their daughter safe. A measure I support one hundred percent, by the way.”
I ignore his comment. “That doesn’t make any sense. I’m an auditor. That’s the least exciting job on the planet.”
“What about your father’s connection to the office?”
I look up at the gray ceiling, as if searching for the answer. “He knows my boss. They did business of some sort years ago.” Jesse is nodding like this is the link, and my eyes widen with surprise. “Wait. Do you think my father got me my job for his benefit? Jesse, I’ve worked hard for this position. I interviewed three times. My résumé is impeccable. My work ethic is insurmountable.”
“I’m sure it is. We’re just trying to piece the puzzle together.”
“We? Who are you working with? Are you part of the Lugazzi family? Another family who wants to wipe out the competition?” I start to stand, but he stills me. Might as well since the bus is now driving through the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel into Manhattan. I’m trapped times a thousand.
Jesse senses my trepidation about being in the tunnel. He grabs my hand, as he did the other night. His scars are still there from when he pulled the grates. His skin is raw, as are the memories.
The primal lust is mixed with this sense of gratitude I have for the way he acted as a human shield for me. My own father has disappeared while my family is in need. He climbed out a window when I was in trouble, and Jesse literally threw himself over me.
He is also keeping something from me. It’s dark, I can feel it.
You never know how much you hate secrets until they’re being kept from you.
Days ago, I thought the Mafia was a thing of New York’s past. I’m learning it’s very much alive in the present. What happened Friday night merely skimmed the surface of the lies I’ve been told my entire life. It might have been for my protection, yet it led me into harm’s way.
“What were you doing as a bartender at the club for the past year?” My question startles him. He doesn’t answer. “You’ve been spying on my father. My uncles. You’ve been trying to get enough dirt on them for who? For what?”
“Amelia,” he sighs.
At his lack of explanation, I shake my head. “You slime. You cowardly piece of shit.”
“It’s not like that.”
The light to the end of the tunnel appears, and we’re now in downtown Manhattan. I stand up and hit the stop button to get off.
“This isn’t your stop,” he says as I climb over him.
He’s right, but I can’t be near him any longer.
“I know you won’t get off with me at the risk of being seen, am I right?”
He rises. “Please don’t do this.”
“Too late.” I turn as the bus pulls up to the curb.
“Baby—”
“I’m not your baby,” I cut him off and walk briskly to the front and down the stairs.
On the curb, I wonder if I just made a colossal mistake by leaving his side. He’s staring out the window as the bus takes off, and I turn toward the subway stairs. His fist bangs on the glass.
I’ve never felt betrayed like this before. My life has been fairly easy until this point. I’ve never been distrusting—never had a reason to. Now, I can’t seem to sit on a subway car without looking at everyone as if they were a criminal.
I grip my bag to my chest, reeling at what my father has gotten us into. When I talk to him, it will be with a sharp-witted piece of my mind. I can’t be the meek Amelia anymore. I need to be fierce. He won’t know what hit him. Amelia Sorrentino—the bad girl, the rule disobeyer—will shock him.
A lot of things I’ve done lately will shock him.
With the drama, I’ve still managed to mentally relive my moment with Jesse. His mouth on mine and his fingers inside of me have tainted me for the good and the bad.
Anthony Buonno was a good date. Jesse Grant is a great lover, and I haven’t even gone to bed with him.
I get off the subway car at the stop that leaves me under my office building. I walk quickly up the stairs and to the turnstile at security. I open my purse to get my ID card and notice a small matchbook sitting against my wallet. It looks vaguely familiar, but I don’t remember taking it from anywhere.
I open it up. Only one match has been lit.
Lifting the flap, I read the writing on the inside.
The moment was real.
—Jesse
I bite my lip, and I run my thumb over his handwriting. He must have put this inside my bag while we were on the bus. The sneak.
I need to watch out. If I don’t protect myself, he might just steal my heart.
Then, I’ll be in real trouble.
Chapter Six
I sit at my desk at DeLuca & Associates, absentmindedly playing with the match
book between my fingers.
“Did you hear me? Mr. DeLuca wants to speak with us,” Eric, one of my colleagues, says as he taps on his Apple Watch.
I drop the matchbook on my desk. Over the past few hours, I completed every task I was assigned, and I was just about to start on tomorrow’s work when the thought of Jesse infiltrated my mind for the tenth time. While I haven’t been myself today, not knowing we had a meeting with the boss startles me.
Looking at my calendar, I see there isn’t one scheduled. It’s the first time I’ve been called in for a surprise meeting since starting here three years ago.
I grab a notebook and start walking toward DeLuca’s office. “Do you know why?” I ask while Eric straightens his tie beside me.
“No, but it’s a small group, so that either means we’re being fired or promoted.”
“Well, I was just promoted …” I grimace.
He lifts a finger in the air like he just thought of the answer. “Or a bonus! He’s probably giving us bonuses.”
I don’t want to tell Eric he’s most definitely wrong, but he’s been here a hell of a lot longer than I have and seems to know the workings of the office.
“Special team meeting?” Sarah, an associate of ours, says as she comes out of her cubicle and joins us on the walk to DeLuca’s office. “Last time he called one of these, I was on an eighteen-month assignment in Los Angeles.”
“I could use some California sunshine. How about you, Amelia?” Eric asks me.
“That sounds okay,” I reply even though I have no plans to ever leave New York.
“Take a seat,” Angelo DeLuca, my boss, says as we shuffle into his office. Our boss stands by his desk with his barrel chest pushing against his suspenders.
There are no available seats, so I lean against the wall with my notebook and pen in hand.
“Eric,” DeLuca yells in his gruff tone, “stand up for the lady. Let Amelia sit.”
Eric pops up from his chair, and I’d argue, but I know men like DeLuca. He’s similar to my father, and any refusal of chivalry would be insulting to the human race. I sit down in one of the small leather chairs in front of his desk.
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