LOVE IN LOCKDOWN: A Charity Anthology

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LOVE IN LOCKDOWN: A Charity Anthology Page 28

by Tracy Lorraine


  Nicco nodded, while Enzo held out his hand. We bumped fists before I hiked up the collar on my jacket and jogged across the street. The place was deserted, but it was hardly surprising given how bad the storm had gotten. So when I reached my truck and heard a scream, my blood ran cold. I froze, straining to hear against the rain and wind wreaking havoc around me.

  Nothing.

  Shaking off the initial alarm I’d felt, I curled my hand around the door handle.

  “Help! Somebody, help me.”

  My spine went rigid. There was no mistaking the noise this time. Spinning around, I searched the street for any signs of trouble.

  “Please, don’t—”

  My boots ate up the sidewalk puddles as I tried to locate the noise. A momentary reprieve in the wind gave me a chance to listen.

  “No, no!”

  Bingo.

  I charged down the street and cut down a darkened alley. The rain was relentless, lashing down, making it hard to see. But there was something up ahead in the shadows. My eyes narrowed, trying to understand what I was seeing.

  “Fuck,” I breathed as murky image in front of me finally became clear.

  And then I charged forward.

  Chapter Two

  Caitlin

  “Don’t, please.” I tried to fight off the monstrous guy as his fingers wrapped around my arm, biting into my skin. He shoved me hard against the wall, sending the air whooshing from my lungs, pain radiating through my shoulder.

  “Hold still, bitch,” he spat, his rancid breath washing over me. I fought the urge to retch.

  “Help! Somebody, help me.” My cries were lost in the wind as it howled down the alley.

  “I saw you tonight, riding that pole like a fucking pro. Well, I’ve got something you can ride right here.” He roughly grabbed my hand and shoved it down to his crotch.

  This time I did retch, tears rolling down my cheeks. “Please, don’t—”

  “Get the fuck off her,” a voice yelled.

  Relief washed over me. Someone was here. Thank God.

  “Fuck off, asshole.” The guy’s grip on my arm tightened. My jacket was drenched, rivulets of water running down my back and breasts.

  “I said,” the guy was ripped away from me, “get the fuck off her.”

  I stumbled away, watching as my savior grabbed the guy by his collar and yanked him closer. “You like beating on women?”

  “Who the fuck are you?” He spat. “She’s good for it. Fucking cock tease.”

  He didn’t get another word out. My savior slammed his head into the guy's nose, sending him flying backward.

  “Motherfucker.” A pained groan filled the air.

  “You want me to call the police on this piece of shit?” He glanced over at me, his expression murderous. But he didn’t scare me. There was a softness in his eyes that drew me in, and somehow, I knew this dark angel wouldn’t hurt me.

  “N- no.” The last thing I needed was the police turning up, asking questions.

  “You get the fuck out of here and don’t look back, you hear me?” He shoved the guy hard, letting him land in a big puddle.

  “Okay, chill, man.” The guy held his hands up, then scrambled to his hands and knees, blood pouring from his nose, turning the rain beneath him ruby red.

  We watched him clamber to his feet and then skulk away into the shadows.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Thank you,” I said through chattering teeth.

  “Shit, you’re cold. Do you have a car around here?”

  “No,” I sniffled, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I was walking home.”

  “Walking...” He let out a strained breath. “I have my truck right around the corner. I can take you to wherever you want to go, or I can call you a cab and wait with you if you’d prefer that?”

  I dipped my hand in my purse feeling for the can of mace and my cell phone. A crack of thunder rumbled overhead followed by a flash of lightning.

  “Fuck,” the guy whistled. “It’s getting bad out here. Come on.” He held out his hand as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

  In my line of work, it wasn’t.

  Tentatively, I slid my palm into his. We were both soaked to the bone, the rain showing no signs of letting up. “I’m Matteo,” he said.

  “Caitlin.”

  “Nice to meet you, Caitlin. Now let’s get you home before you freeze to death.”

  The truck was warm by the time Matteo pulled up outside my apartment building, but I was still like a drowned rat.

  “This is me.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay? Is there someone you want to call? Friend? Boyfriend?” He turned off the engine. Another bolt of lightning lit up the sky, startling me.

  “No boyfriend,” I whispered, peering up at the sky. It had been a long time since I’d seen a storm this bad. “Jesus,” the word spilled from my lips as thunder crashed overhead.

  “Not a fan of storms?”

  “Something like that,” I mumbled.

  Damn Gisele. She’d been my ride home, but had gotten held up. So I'd decided to walk. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t done before. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes as the reality of what could have happened sank into me.

  “Hey, don’t cry.” Matteo touched my arm, and our eyes met. “You’re safe now.”

  Nodding, I averted my eyes, trying to swallow the rest of the tears.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t I walk you up to your apartment, make sure you get in okay?”

  My eyes flicked to his, and he smiled. “I don’t bite, I promise.”

  Matteo seemed so different to the men I encountered at the club with their wandering hands, fat wallets, and indecent morals.

  “Only if you’re sure.”

  His eyes lit up. “Of course. It’s really getting wild out there. Let me come around and open your door, okay?”

  After battling against the force of the wind, he managed to climb out. Seconds later, my door opened. “We’ll have to make a run for it.” To my surprise, Matteo had taken off his jacket to use as a shield. I slipped out of the truck and buried myself into his side, and we took off toward the building.

  “Holy crap, that was intense,” I said the second we reached the doors. Matteo frowned, and I knew what he probably saw. I didn’t exactly live in The Four Seasons. But I earned every square inch of the small apartment I called home.

  “After you.” He pulled open the door and I slipped past him. My sneakers were ruined, water squelching every time I walked.

  Matteo followed me to the first floor. “This is me,” I said, just as the strip lighting flickered overhead. “Do you want to come inside and get dried off?”

  Our eyes met, and I felt shy all of a sudden, which was ridiculous given the fact I spent five nights a week stripping in front of complete strangers.

  The whole sky lit up again as a fork of lightning struck right above us.

  “Yeah, okay.” He gave me an uneasy smile. “If you’re sure?”

  I fought a smile. Maybe I wasn’t the only one afraid of the storm?

  Unlocking my door, I pushed it open and moved inside. Matteo followed, closing the door behind him.

  “Fuck, it’s bad out there.” He peeled the wet t-shirt away from his body, revealing a smooth slab of stomach. His eyes caught mine and his brow went up.

  Crap. Busted.

  Flushed, I spun around and went straight to the small kitchenette, peeling off my soggy jacket and dumping it in the sink. “I’m going to change into something a little less wet.”

  The second the words left my lips I realized my mistake. Matteo’s eyes darkened as he chuckled.

  “Okay, I’ll be... uh...” I hurried into the hall leading to the bathroom and bedroom. “Feel free to dry your stuff on the radiator,” I called. “I’ll grab you some towels.”

  “Thanks,” he replied.

  What was I doing?

  I knew better than to invite a strange into my ho
me.

  But he saved you.

  Heading into the bathroom, I flicked the switch and gasped when I saw my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a wet mattered mess, and my face was streaked with ugly black lines. I looked like I’d been dragged out of a swamp. Shedding my wet, soggy clothes, I dumped them in the tub, and slipped into my big fluffy robe. Grabbing a flannel, I ran it under the hot faucet, and began cleaning my face. It wasn’t much of an improvement, but it would have to do. Next, I towel dried my hair and piled it in a messy bun on top of my head.

  After grabbing a bunch of towels off the rack, I went back into the living room, pausing at the sight of Matteo standing there shirtless. “H- hi,” I choked out.

  God, he was beautiful. All hard lines and defined muscle. Tattoos decorated his skin, curving over one of his pecs and around his shoulder.

  “Are they for me?” he asked, nodding to the towels, and my cheeks burned.

  “Yes. Sorry, I just... nice tattoos.”

  God, kill me now.

  “Do I make you nervous?”

  “I’m just not used to having guys in my apartment,” I stuttered over the words.

  “I find that hard to believe, Caitlin.” His face paled. “Shit, I didn’t mean… that came out all wrong.”

  I chuckled. “How old are you?”

  “Nineteen, why?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I hadn’t expected him to say that. He seemed so sure of himself, so together for someone who wasn’t even old enough to buy liquor in a bar.

  The lights flickered, another crack of thunder booming outside, making me flinch.

  “You really don’t like storms, huh?”

  “We all have our fears, right?” I gave him a weak smile. “Dry off and I’ll make us some hot cocoa?”

  “Sounds good.” Matteo took the towels from me. He had a body carved of sin and painted with ink, but his eyes were kind and his smile genuine.

  It was a refreshing change from the men I usually encountered. Men who always wanted something more than polite conversation.

  I left him to dry off while I went and changed into some leggings and my favorite oversized Tinkerbell t-shirt.

  “Nice.” Matteo chuckled, pointing at my chest.

  Feeling myself grow hot, I hurried to the kitchen to make the hot chocolate. “Marshmallows?” I asked over my shoulder.

  “Is there another way to—”

  A blood curdling shriek tore from my lungs as the power went out, sparks and fire exploding outside the window.

  “Relax, relax.” Matteo rushed over to me, wrapping me into his arms. Thank God, he’d put his t-shirt back on. “It’s just the storm.”

  It didn’t look like the storm, it looked like Armageddon had arrived.

  He guided me over to the windows, the only light the silvery hue of the moon outside. “See, just a power pole. But it looks like it blew the entire block.” He was right, everything was steeped in darkness. “Do you have candles?”

  I nodded, my heart still like a runaway train in my chest. “They’re in the cabinet over there.”

  “Okay, how about you stay here,” Matteo gently pushed me toward my small couch, “and I’ll light some candles?”

  “I can do it.” The tremble to my words betrayed me.

  “Look, I’m here, so let me help. It’s the least I can do.”

  Matteo wasted no time locating the candles and setting them up around the apartment. By the time he was done there was a warm amber glow flickering around the room, and my heart no longer felt like it was going to explode.

  “Jesus,” I said. “I’m not usually like this.”

  “Like what?” He frowned, bringing me a steamy mug of hot cocoa. I took it from him, our hands brushing. Sparks danced over my skin, sending a shiver racing up my spine.

  “A damsel in distress.”

  “Jesus Christ,” he let out a strained breath. “You were attacked. I’d expect you to be on edge.”

  “But I wasn’t, because you arrived.” I smiled at him, an overwhelming sense of gratitude washing over me.

  But it was deeper than that.

  All my life I’d been controlled and manipulated. As sad as it was to admit it, the man in the alley was just another in a long list of points in my life I’d rather forget. But I knew I would never forget tonight. Because for the first time ever, someone saved me.

  Matteo saved me.

  And he was here, asking for nothing in return.

  He stared back at me, his warm blue eyes searching for something.

  What, I didn’t know.

  Then Matteo tilted his head to one said and said the strangest thing to me, “Do I know you?”

  Chapter Three

  Matteo

  She looked familiar. I traced my eyes over the soft features of her face, lingering on the curve of her neck. Her milky white skin contrasting with the pile of deep red hair gathered on her head. There was a smattering of freckles dotted over her nose and her lips were full and soft and totally kissable.

  Caitlin was fucking beautiful.

  Get your head out of the gutter, Bellatoni. It wasn’t appropriate to think about her in such a way after her ordeal tonight. Not to mention the fact she was terrified of the storm.

  When I’d seen that stronzo with his hands on her petite body, I’d almost lost it. Images of Arabella had flashed through my mind. I didn’t like to spill blood often, but for the women in my life, there wasn’t much I wouldn’t do.

  Family was everything to me.

  Seeing the fear in Caitlin’s eyes, hearing her screams, seeing the tears roll down her cheeks, had reached something deep inside and taken hold. Truth was, before she even invited me inside, I’d already made the decision to camp out in the truck right outside her building. Just to be sure. Part of me wondered if I should have called the cops, or better yet, called some of our guys to come and deal with the piece of shit.

  I knew Enzo would give me shit for it—hell, probably Nicco too—but I knew I wouldn’t rest without knowing she was okay.

  “Do I know you?” The words spilled from my lips.

  Caitlin’s brows knitted as she slid a hand up the side of her neck. “Providence is a big place, but I suppose our paths could have crossed.” She gave me a tentative smile.

  “Actually, I hail from Verona County.”

  “Oh.” It was strange. There was a disappointed edge to her words that conflicted against the relief in her eyes.

  “You said you were walking home from work?”

  “Yes, I... uh, wait tables. It’s not exactly glamorous, but it pays the bills.”

  “What’s the name of the place?”

  “Stella’s.”

  “Doesn’t ring a bell.” I didn’t know Providence well, but I’d been around enough to know some of the local haunts.

  “What brings you this way?” Caitlin placed her mug down, tucking her legs underneath her. The storm continued beating down on the building, but I was too caught up in her to even notice. There was something about her. “What?” she asked, staring up at me through long lashes.

  “You’re beautiful.” Her eyes widened with fear. “Shit, I’m sorry. That was a dumb thing to say.” I raked a hand through my hair. It was still damp beneath my fingers. “I’m not trying to hit on you, that’s not what this is. I just... Jesus, I should stop talking.”

  Enzo would have a field day watching me stumble over my words like this. But you usually didn’t need words to get the attention of chicks at L’Anello’s or a campus party. There was a line of girls ready and waiting to dance on the dark side, to have their shot at taming one of the Marchetti men. But they were nothing more than warm bodies and willing bed mates. I’d never found a single girl I wanted to get close to; to spend time lying in the dark just talking with...

  Until now.

  “It’s okay.” She chuckled, the soft sound like music to my ears. “I know it’s late, but are you hungry? I mean if you don’t have anywhere to be?”

>   As if on cue my stomach rumbled. “I never turn down the offer of food. It’s the Italian in me.”

  “I did wonder.” Caitlin got up and I followed her to the small kitchenette, taking a seat at one of the stools. “You have a slight accent.”

  “I’m fourth generation American-Italian. My mom’s great-grandfather moved here in the late nineteenth century. What about you?”

  “Irish-American. Didn’t the red hair and pale complexion give it away?” She began rummaging around in her refrigerator, the inside light illuminating her face.

  “Eyes.”

  “Excuse me?” Caitlin looked over at me and I smiled.

  “Bingo. They’re green.”

  With a little shake of her head, she continued her forage. “I have eggs, spinach, some questionable looking cheese, tomatoes, or leftovers from lunch.”

  “We could always order in?”

  “And make some poor delivery person drive in this weather?” She looked disappointed.

  “Relax, I’m joking. Omelet sounds good or eggs over easy with spinach and cheese.”

  “A man after my own heart.” Caitlin set about gathering the ingredients, and heating oil in a small frying pan. “So, Matteo...”

  “Bellatoni.” Part of me wondered if I should have given her my real name, but Bellatoni was non-descript enough. Marchetti on the other hand...

  “Matteo Bellatoni. Tell me about you. Are you in college?”

  “I’ll be a sophomore at Montague University in the fall.”

  “Isn’t that the super elite school in Verona County?”

  “It’s just a college, Tink.”

  “Tink?” She glanced after me over her shoulder, lips parted, expression playful. It was like watching a flower slowly bloom.

  And I loved it.

  “Would you prefer I call you fairy?” I fought a grin.

  Caitlin left the spinach and eggs cooking while she pulled out a plate and some silverware. “Are you sure you don’t need to be somewhere?”

  The rain and wind battered the side of her apartment and I pressed my lips into a thin line. “It’s getting dangerous out there. Besides, I would never leave a pretty girl home alone during a storm.”

 

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