by Shanna Bell
Balancing on the balls of her feet, she circled Vince, hoping to find a weak spot. Just as the bastard had done with her after he fucked her senseless. That had been two days ago, but she still hadn’t quite forgiven either of them. Ever since, the deal with the pictures was hanging above her head like the sword of Damocles. So far, they hadn’t pushed her about it, but it was only a matter of time.
“Go for the painful and soft spots,” Vince reminded her. “A kick in the throat. A punch in the eyes.”
“Or the balls?” she quipped. “I would love to demonstrate how I could kick you in the balls.”
He lifted a brow. “If you can get that close to the family jewels, I deserve it.”
“Oh, believe me when I say that you do.”
“I’m glad to see you’ve regained your spirit, beautiful.”
One sentence was enough to remind her how she’d nearly lost her spirit, and joy of life in general. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that today her internal wounds hurt less. Even though she didn’t believe time healed all wounds, it did put a scab on them. After all, she fell apart in his arms, but she was still standing. Perhaps it was time to show him exactly how tall she intended to stand, right on his butt.
With a surprise attack, she launched herself at him. She grabbed his hand and turned his arm, ducked underneath it, and could almost smell the sweet scent of victory.
Almost.
Lying on the floor, when she looked up, Vince seemed impossibly tall from this position.
She expected him to give her a hand and lift her up, but he dropped next to her, and placed his weight on her ankles.
“No more sit-ups,” she groaned. Even thinking of them hurt her nonexistent abs.
“Thirty,” he demanded, settling comfortably on her feet.
“Twenty?” she bartered.
“Forty. Give me more lip and the number will only go up.”
Dammit. Knowing she didn’t stand a chance, she pushed up. At five, she was already panting.
“Sy never makes me do this,” she complained.
“He wouldn’t,” Vince admitted. “He considers himself the wall between you and everything that’s bad. In an ideal world, he’d be right. There would be no reason for you to learn to defend yourself, push your limits to strengthen your body.”
Six. Seven. Her muscles were burning.
“Funny how, in the beginning, I believed him to be the big, bad wolf.” They both knew he wasn’t. Sy might be a little rough around the edges, but he was not evil. “So, you and Sy. How did you two meet?”
He looked hesitant for a second. “Let’s say he saved my ass when I was at a bad place. We quickly found out that we shared the same life and interests.”
“Like sharing women?” she asked, curious.
“That too,” he admitted. “But I was more referring to our backgrounds. We come from different worlds, yet exactly the same. We both lost our parents at a young age and had to make it on our own. We were both lucky enough to have an older brother carrying the brunt of the heavy burden.”
She frowned. “I don’t recall Sy telling me that his mother died.”
His mouth tightened. “Some parents are dead, even when they are alive.”
She felt there was more to that story, but Sy should be the one telling it, so she let it go. “You both seem to be doing well now.”
He held her stare for the longest moment. “Everything we have today, we built ourselves. When our parents died, Gio and I were left alone in the world, to fend for ourselves or be broken apart. Luca and Jackson were so young, they hardly understood what had happened.”
There was a raw edge to his voice. “We were raised with the idea that nothing is more important than family. A man has one job, and one job alone: to provide for his family, and protect it. Our father failed at that. When he got killed, it pulled our mother with him into the grave. I swore that day that I would never leave a child of mine behind as an orphan.”
When his gaze landed on her abdomen, she looked away. Her heart went a million miles an hour. He didn’t need to express what he was trying to say. She could see it clearly in his eyes—Vincenzo Detta longed to have a family of his own. And she feared he had chosen her to give him one. Little did he know, there was no way Fate would give her another child.
“How many more sit-ups left?” she asked, hastily changing the subject.
“Eight more.”
“Okay.”
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
“Carmen.” He grabbed one of her curls and wound it around his finger. “Everything I did, everything my family built up from the ground, nothing came without a sacrifice.”
Once again, her heart rate sped up, but this time, it wasn’t because of the exercise. “I don’t want to talk about—”
“Then don’t. Just listen. What I’m trying to say is, that morning when I didn’t show up as promised, it’s the single, biggest regret of my life. I wanted to—”
She pushed herself up and put her fingers on his lips. “Please. No more talk about the past. I can’t look back anymore. It is killing me. Every time I do, it’s like little shards of glass cut through me, bone-deep. They hit me in the stomach, opening my belly to more ache. They hit my eyes, blinding my sight, destroying my vision. They seep into my ears, and deafen me.” Her eyes pleaded for him to hear her.
“Three more to go,” he said softly.
By the time she was finished, she could feel the sweat running between her breasts and down her back. Vince got up, pulling her up with him.
She all but ran toward the shower in the master bedroom. When she passed the California king-size bed, her lips tightened. For as long as they shared a bed, she had never awoken with either of them. She knew why—it was psychological warfare. They were trying to force her to move into this room with its plush, cream carpet, wooden paneling, and beautiful French doors.
Of course she couldn’t do that. If she did, she’d be giving a message; that she was here to stay. But that would be the most dishonest thing to do. After all, they didn’t know who they had really invited into their home.
Taking a huge towel, she stepped into the glass-enclosed shower.
Now that she had “freed” herself from her self-imposed cage, she felt like she could handle the world again. It had been two days since her mental breakdown. She had used that time to come to grips with what had happened. They had used their session to make her feel safe and cared for, but also so she would spill her beans. It was a great reminder of how ruthless they could be.
Meanwhile, her mind was a chaotic mess, trying to figure out what to do about her situation. Sy had left to a destination unknown. She knew not to ask. It was Vince she was most worried about though. Now that he believed Franco had taken her to the Red Velvet and someone was using that knowledge to blackmail her, he wouldn’t let it go.
She jumped underneath the scalding hot water, imagining it washed away her biggest sin. It didn’t take long before she bumped into rock-hard abs.
“Turn around.”
Vince eyed her, holding a bottle of shampoo. She closed her eyes and let him wash and rinse her hair. His fingers massaged her scalp, then he went to her shoulders, easing away the tension that had built up there.
Strong hands fell from her shoulders to caress her breasts, playing with her nipples, steaming up the shower.
“Put your hands against the wall,” Vince whispered before trailing his lips down her throat. He grabbed her hips and slid inside. He rocked her against the wall in a slow burn.
“Don’t let me go.” The words left her lips before she could stop them.
“Never,” he promised.
Except, it was an empty one. Hadn’t he let her go once already?
That was a decade ago. Get over it.
Sometimes she hated her inner voice. Except, in this case, it might be right. Truth was, she didn’t know the man he had become. Vince Detta was nothing like her kind and s
weet Vincenzo. He was a man now. And like all men in the life, he took what he wanted when he wanted. He also protected what he considered his, and right now, that was her.
Being protected and cared for by two dominant men was a dream come true, yet at the same time, immensely inconvenient when she wanted to leave the house. There was no sneaking out of the apartment. There was always someone in the back following her. Even if she could, on the way down, there were two hulking men guarding the property. Of course, she wasn’t unfamiliar with the way things went in their world. She did know, however, that after the other night, she had to take action. In a short time, both Sy and Vince had found a place in her heart, no matter how much she wanted to tell herself it was just sex. Of course, they could never know about what else happened at Red Velvet. They would be so disappointed in her.
Another thing she didn't particularly wanted to share was where she needed to go tonight. It was the last Friday of the month and every fiber of her being urged her to take her monthly trip. She just didn't know how to sneak out of the apartment unnoticed.
She put on some clothes, and as she went downstairs, contemplated what to tell Vince.
He eyed her curiously from his place on the couch, where he was watching sports.
“Getting ready for a late-night stroll?”
“I need you to take me somewhere.”
When he saw she was serious, he stood. “Where to?”
“I’ll tell you in the car.” She wasn’t sure he’d let her out if he knew her intended destination.
Pleased that he didn’t pressure her for an answer, she relaxed and sunk into the comfy passenger seat. When she told him where to go, he tensed, but didn’t say anything.
Half an hour later, he parked in front of the old cemetery. The place where Franco was buried. The place where Vince had promised to meet her a decade ago. In a way, it was the site where she had once believed her dreams, a new future, would begin. Instead, it was where her passed got buried, literally.
A familiar bead of sweat formed on her forehead. At this time of night, when the sun had disappeared and made place for dark clouds, she practically had the place for herself. It didn’t make it any easier than the last times she’d been here.
“Could you please wait in—”
“Not a chance.” Vince got out of the car, walked over to her door, and opened it.
So much for doing this without any witnesses. Her stomach lurched and her palms got all clammy. Then Vince grabbed a hold of her hand. His touch was warm and comforting. And this time, when she walked up to Franco’s grave, her feet didn’t drag. There was no fear his ghost would emerge from the grave to haunt her. Vince stood rock solid next to her, holding her hand, a hard expression on his face as he stared at Franco’s headstone. They stood there, silently, for long minutes, as Carmen gathered her courage.
“I come here once a month. To tell him how I feel. To tell him that he didn’t break me. That I’m still standing.” She breathed out as the tension slowly left her body. “Sometimes I yell. Other times, I curse him. It’s not exactly the kind of language suitable for normal people visiting their loved ones, so I come late at night when the place is empty. The other night, I realized that I was deluding myself. I wasn’t really free from him. Not as long as I come here to tell him that I am. I mean, why would I need to prove my newfound freedom to a gravestone if I were really free? It’s silly, really.”
He gave her hand a light squeeze. “It’s human.”
“I don’t want to be that human anymore. The angry, vengeful one that gets easily spooked, and sometimes feels like she’s losing her marbles. I refuse to be that person. But most of all, I don’t want to be afraid anymore, like I was with Franco all the time.” That was back then. Now, her fears had found other things to latch on. The fear she would fail in her mission to find Marni. The fear she would disappoint Vince and Sy.
“You can tell me anything, you know.”
She froze. Did he know? “I think I told you enough the other night.”
“Whatever, or whomever, it is that you fear, I’ll take care of it. Just tell me. I’m not the man anymore, that promised you to—”
Her fingers pressed against his lips, silencing him. “Don’t. Please. I don’t want to talk about the past. When you promised to meet me here and run away with me, you were not a man.” His eyes strained and she could see how her words hurt him. “Sorry, I don’t mean it like it sounds. What I’m trying to say is that I’ve blamed you for so long for everything that went wrong in my life. Truth is, when you made that promise, you were just a boy. It was wrong of me to hold on to that grudge for so long. I guess it was just easier to have a scapegoat to blame for when destiny gives you the finger.
“When I found out that my grandfather had arranged for me to marry Franco, I could have run away. You were not my only option, no matter what you’d promised. I go to the shelter every week and see women, sometimes just teenage girls, who have fled a situation much worse than I was in. Yes, they are scared and unsure of their life, but at least they have taken action, taken control of their own life, instead of waiting to be rescued.
“I wasn’t brave enough back then. I knuckled under, because I was afraid that I couldn’t make it on my own. Part of me hoped that the rumors about Franco were wrong. I even convinced myself it was a good thing that you didn’t show up that night. I told myself that it was a sign. That perhaps you were the dragon in disguise, and Franco the misunderstood knight.” She took a step back. “Either way, you are not that boy anymore, and I’m not that girl. You have opened your home to me, saved me from horrible men. You’ve more than made up for a mistake, that wasn’t your mistake to begin with. All I want is to right the mistake I have made as well. On my own.”
He was silent for a second, then cupped her cheek. “There’s no shame in asking for help.”
“Still, I’m not asking for any.”
His hand dropped, even as his eyes pinned her down. “I can’t promise to stand by and watch when you need me. Even if you are too proud to ask me for it.”
His words held a promise. One fact she already knew—Vince Detta was never going to leave her to deal with her own problems. When he claimed a woman, he was all-in. Sadly, she couldn’t let him. Not doing all she could to help Marni was the biggest regret of her life. What if Vince found out she’d left a little girl in a hellhole and lost all respect for her?
She turned toward Franco’s grave one last time.
Vince pulled her close. “Say your goodbyes.”
It was as if he could read her mind. Burrowing into his side, she took strength from his presence and did exactly that.
CHAPTER 20
CARMEN
The next morning, when Carmen went downstairs for breakfast, she found Vince sitting at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper on his tablet. As usual, he was immaculately dressed in a dark suit and silk tie.
He cocked a brow when his eye landed on her bag. “Leaving the citadel?”
“You’d do well to wipe that smile off your face.”
He sent her a scorching look. The kind that made her heart beat faster, and part of her wish they were naked in bed again. If she didn’t put an end to his flirting, she knew exactly what was going to happen. Her ending up in bed, staying inside, yet again.
“I’m going to see Jazzy today,” she started. “And before you go all frowny face on me, let me tell you that you can’t stop me. I have a life. Also, Jazzy has kind of threatened to hunt me down with a club and hit me over the head with it if I don’t show my face soon.” Even without the threat, Carmen had been planning to visit Jazzy. Not only did she miss her fiercely, but she also needed her help.
“Of course you should go. I’ll take you.”
“No need. I can go myself.”
His look said otherwise. “I will take you.”
The automatic protest on her lips died, as it would be no use fighting this. It wasn’t the first time she had been chauffeured around town
. Franco hadn’t allowed her to go anywhere on her own, claiming it was for her protection. Before him, it had been Grandfather who had ruled her to be transported around with a bodyguard and driver. Even after Franco’s death, it had been Raul who insisted she wouldn’t go outside alone. Some things never changed.
By noon, Vince dropped her off at Jazzy’s for a long overdue visit.
Seeing Jazzy standing in the doorway with a baby bump made Carmen realize she wasn’t so little anymore. No, she was round, and frankly, beautiful. She also looked spitting mad.
“Finally!” Jazzy snapped, hands on her hips. “I was about to storm the castle. Where have you been? And why the hell did I have to learn from Gio that you’ve moved in with Vince and Sy?”
This tirade went over for about ten minutes, as Jazzy practically dragged her inside, placed her on the couch, and sat next to her. When they were being served coffee, she finally stopped. The scowl hadn’t left her face though.
Carmen put down her coffee and pulled Jazzy into an embrace. “I love you too, sis.”
“Please, just tell me what’s going on with you. No one tells me anything. I tried to eavesdrop when Vince came over, but I got caught,” she shamelessly admitted. “Ever since I’ve gotten pregnant, Gio thinks I’m this porcelain doll. It’s really annoying.”
“He loves you.”
“I know that. But you’re my sister and I want to be in the loop when something’s up.” She went over to a cabinet and pulled out a large manila envelope that she handed over to Carmen. “Tess came over this morning, saying that she’d be out of town for a few days, and asked me to give it to you. Which makes me think that whatever is in that envelope, she didn’t want to bring it over to Vince’s.”
Carmen’s heart started to pound. Tess must have found something about Marni. She wanted to rip open the envelope and dive in. Instead, she set it on her lap.
“Thanks. I just needed some info on—”
“No!” Jazzy’s scowl returned with a vengeance. “You don’t get to hide this from me and push me away. I love you, sis, but my patience is gone. Over the years, I have watched you turn from my strong, resilient sister, into an empty shell.” The anguish in her voice nearly wrecked Carmen. “I’m not stupid. I knew it had something to do with that bastard Franco. You never complained, never said one word about your marriage, but I could see in your eyes that it was slowly killing you.”