by Jordan Ford
Screw this shit.
I need her.
I’m sick of sitting in the background of her life, following her wherever she goes to make sure she’s safe. I’m like her freaking stalker right now.
I haven’t slept in weeks.
I’m tired, grumpy and miserable.
This can’t be my life anymore. It’s shitty enough without this extra crap added on top. I need to convince Chloe that we should be together, no matter what.
If it means going to her father, then so be it.
The man might scare the shit out of me, but I care about Chloe more than my own fear.
He no doubt thinks I’m not worthy of her…and he’s probably right.
But it’s not like I choose to steal money from people or be Uncle Enzo’s delivery boy.
I do it for my own survival. And I do it in the nicest, most peaceful way I can.
Does that make me a bad person?
I rub my forehead.
Shit! Probably!
She’s too good for me.
But…
I don’t want to live without her anymore. She makes me want to be a better person. She makes me want to be worthy of her.
When we’re together, I am a good guy. I’m her warrior.
Gazing down at the note, I reread my instructions with a thick swallow before folding it in half. I check both ways and then slip it into her locker.
In order for the coast to be clear, I had to wait until the late bell had already rung. I’m going to get in trouble for missing the first ten minutes of class, but it’ll be worth it.
Pumping my arms, I run down the hallway, my boots loud and intrusive in the quiet corridor.
I puff in to class and get told off by Miss Jenkins, but her sharp words bounce right off me. I might be getting my girl back. Nothing can touch me today.
I hover near the bus stop, pacing back and forth while I wait and hope, wait and hope.
I never got a reply from Chloe. Shit, did she even go back to her locker before baseball practice this afternoon? What if she didn’t get the note?
Raking a hand through my hair, I hover in the shadows, hoping no one I know notices me. The bus stop is just around the corner from Pedro’s. This is my block and I’ve tried hard to establish good relationships while collecting “protection pay,” but there’s still the odd person who hates or fears me.
I can’t wait to get away from this trash heap.
Crossing my arms, I lean against the building, trying to keep the dark feelings at bay while I wait for my ray of sun.
Please come. Please find my note. Please agree to meet me.
Nervous energy pulses in my head and I’m pacing again before I can stop myself.
The bus pulls around the corner and I tense, holding my breath until its brakes squeak and the only person I want to see steps out the back door.
I sag with relief as she walks toward me with a sweet smile on her face.
Before she can say anything, I take her hand and lead her down a couple of back alleys until we’re safely hidden in the greenhouse.
The second I close the door behind us, I spin and capture her face in my hands.
“I’ve missed you,” I murmur, kissing her smile, her cheek, her neck.
She giggles and wraps her arms around my waist, sliding her hand up my back and gluing us together.
I hold her like she’s precious, because she is.
She smells like vanilla. I subtly sniff her hair as she rests her cheek on my shoulder.
We don’t say anything. We just stand there, holding each other and making up for too many weeks of radio silence.
Finally her hands move and she pulls back to look up at me.
Her eyes sparkle with warmth. “I’m so glad you changed your mind. I’ve missed you, and I haven’t been able to think straight these last three weeks.”
“Me neither.”
“So now we can solve this thing and just get on with being together?”
I tense, putting my hands on her shoulders and taking a step back. “You sure you don’t want to just drop it?”
Her reprimanding look makes me sigh.
“I tried to raise it with my dad, but he says cases aren’t reopened unless there’s some solid proof, so we just need to find something. I’ve been doing some research on the internet, trying to find Latina detectives in the area, but I’m coming up short. You know, I think that lady who visited Camila wasn’t even a cop. I—”
“Stop.” I place my finger on her lips.
She goes still, her eyes studying my expression.
“I don’t want to waste this time talking about the case. I asked you here so we could hang out for a while. Talk.”
“But—”
“Chloe, we can’t solve this, okay?” I swallow, nerves making it hard to speak. “I know you really want that, and yeah, if I can keep you safe, I want that too. But there are no guarantees.” I lick the side of my mouth and gently take her hands in mine. “But there is one thing we can try to control. You and me. Us, together. And if you want, I’ll come with you and I’ll meet your parents. I’ll say whatever I have to, wear whatever you want me to. I’ll be the guy they need me to be so that you and I can be a couple, like Holden and Maddie are.”
“Vincent.” She’s shaking her head. Not a great sign.
My tattered nerves rub together, creating an electricity that’s hot and irritating. I pull in a breath to temper my anger. I never want to lose it with her. Never.
“Please, Chloe. I want to be able to take you out, hold your hand, kiss you goodbye at the end of a date. Let’s tell your parents about us. Let’s tell the whole freaking world.”
Her lips pull into a sweet smile that gives me hope until she rests her hand on my cheek and whispers, “I want to do all those things too, but we have to clear your family name first. Don’t you see?”
I pull away from her, turning my back and pacing to the glass before spinning around and letting my anguish really show. “And don’t you see that I’m trying to be worthy of you, and I have nothing to do with any of this murdering bullshit! I’m so sick of my family name dictating who I am! I’m a good guy.”
“And so is your brother!” Chloe throws up her arms. “If we can prove he’s innocent, then all that stigma against you guys disappears.”
“That’s not true,” I scoff. “I’m still Enzo’s nephew, still have to do shitty things for the guy. I’m still a Mancini.”
“If Nick is innocent and gets out, you don’t have to live with Enzo anymore. You don’t have to be a part of that.”
“It’s not that simple, Chloe.” I sigh and scrub a hand down my face. “Can’t you just tell your dad that you like me and want to be with me? Can’t you just tell him that being with you makes me a better person?” My voice cracks. I turn my back on her, staring out the dirty glass and lamenting the fact that my dreams are never going to come to fruition.
Even if she does tell him, he probably still won’t believe her.
I should just shut the hell up and let her go.
25
Mine
CHLOE
I gaze at Vincent’s back. His shoulders are so broad and tense, his stance so strong.
Yet he’s breaking on the inside, and I’m partly to blame.
He just wants to be seen for who he really is, and no one will give him a chance. If he hadn’t saved my life that night, I probably would have gone the rest of my life assuming that Vincent Mancini was a bad boy who should be avoided. I never would have known.
And he hides it. Most of the time he keeps his guard up because he knows no one will truly give him a chance if he suddenly starts acting like the guy he is.
But he wants to do it for me.
Because he thinks I make him a better person.
Pulling my sleeves down over my hands, I cross my arms around myself and slowly step toward him.
He stays where he is, keeping his eyes trained on the filthy glass.
&n
bsp; Stepping over the broken floorboard, I stop behind him, resting my cheek against his broad back and looping my arms around his waist.
“I can tell my dad the truth. I’ll tell him whatever you want me to. I don’t know if he’ll believe me or change his mind about you though. And I hate that, but it’s true.” My eyes glass with tears and I sniff, hoping my voice doesn’t shake too much. “I guess that’s why I haven’t said anything. I don’t want to do something that will stop us from being together. When you gave me that ultimatum, it broke my heart because you said if I care about you, I’d walk away from this. But I do care about you, which is why I want your brother to be free. I want you to be free. So if I care, I should be fighting for that. I should fight for you, because I think I lo—” I swallow the word before I can say it. I don’t want to embarrass him, and it feels way too soon to declare my love for the guy.
The words just kind of popped out before I could stop them.
Do I love Vincent?
Yeah, I think I do.
He starts to turn, so I step back and keep my eyes on the ground.
I don’t know what he’s about to say to me, and I’m suddenly petrified that he’s going to pat me on the shoulder and reject me in the nicest way possible.
Pulling in a shaky breath, I inch away. Maybe I can just wave him goodbye and bolt for the door.
But he reaches forward, gently capturing my chin and forcing my head up. His brown gaze is tender and sweet, his lips curling into a soft smile. “I think I lo…you too.”
I let out a breathy laugh, made shaky by a mixture of relief and elation. There’s a sprinkling of fear in there—the healthy kind that no doubt plagues everyone who’s falling in love.
I’ve had crushes before, but never anything this intense. I’ve never told a guy I lo—ed him, that’s for sure.
Closing the space between us, Vincent dips his head, capturing my mouth in a smooth, perfect motion that reminds me how in sync we are. Yes, it’s fast. Yes, I never expected to feel this way about him, but I’m going with it.
Because it feels good.
It feels right.
He feels like mine.
26
Whispers and Kissing
VINCENT
Chloe’s tongue in my mouth is a song. Her soft lips fill my heart; her warm body and kind words make me feel like a different person.
She thinks she loves me.
I could fly right now.
Cupping the back of her head, I cradle her against me while tasting her kisses from every angle. The exploration and study of her mouth is something I will never get sick of.
We’re meant to be together.
And even though it’ll be a fight, I’m willing to do it.
Hope is a powerful thing, and as I’m kissing Chloe, I’m filled with it. My mind jumps forward to next year, being a senior with Chloe by my side. Graduating and maybe even getting into a community college. I don’t know where Chloe’s going, but I’ll travel to see her. I’ll get away from this place and become the man she deserves.
Chloe pulls back for air, her giggle light and free as she rests her forehead against my lips. I kiss her soft skin before guiding her to the pile of musty sheets on the floor. Plumping them up, I take a seat and pull her down to sit on my lap. She fits perfectly, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and grinning down at me while the light fades outside.
“How long can you stay?” I whisper, unable to resist kissing her neck.
“Max is covering for me, but it is a school night, so I’ve probably got until ten at the latest.”
“Ten,” I murmur against her skin, wondering how long we can last in the greenhouse. I should probably take her out for dinner, feed her, treat her like a lady.
“Let’s stay here until the last minute,” she whispers, tipping her head to give me better access to her neck. “I don’t want to leave you until I absolutely have to, and this greenhouse feels safe and secret somehow, you know?”
“What about food?” I kiss the spot beneath her ear.
“What’s food?” She grins, turning her head to capture my mouth.
I spin her around so she’s straddling me and so goes the rest of our night, whispered conversation interrupted with kisses. Kisses that heat me to boiling. I have to pull back a couple of times and ask her about something random and mundane. I unearth a box of Raisinets from my bag and we munch on those, then share my bottle of water. She knows what I’m doing every time I pull away from her and giggles at me before answering or popping a few more candies in her mouth.
We chat until things cool down and then inevitably start making out again.
If I didn’t care so much about her, I’d let myself go, peeling her clothes off piece by piece until I could lay her down beneath me and have all of her. But I’m not taking Chloe’s virginity. Not in this musty greenhouse. Not this soon. I don’t even have protection on me.
Although, that’s not really the point.
As much as I’d love to wriggle my fingers beneath her shirt and explore the shape of her body, take things to the next level, I’m not going to. I’m not turning this into something more until we’re both ready. It’s a big step. With Chloe, it would be an epic step, because getting intimate with her would be off the charts.
I’ve never loved a girl before.
And I’m not rushing into sex with Chloe. I want this thing between us to slow burn, because I want it to last. I want to keep loving her for as long as she’ll let me. I want to know everything about her, starting from the inside and working my way out.
She burrows down in our makeshift sofa so she can rest her head in the crook of my neck. I smile, loving the feel of her, wishing we could fall asleep right here and wake up together in the morning.
I glance at my watch, wondering how much longer we have, and nearly jump out of my skin.
“Shit! It’s ten o’clock.”
Chloe jumps. “Really? Already? Crap.”
“Your dad is going to kill me.”
“No, he’s going to kill me. We have a game tomorrow, and he hates any of us being too tired to play.”
“Come on. Come on.” I jump up, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. “I’ll drive you home.”
“You’ll need to drop me at the end of my street.”
I frown at her.
She laughs and shakes her head. “You honestly think walking me in the door past curfew is the best way to play this? I need to talk to my parents first, okay? Don’t worry, they’ll come around, but it’s going to take a little time and tact. Please trust me.”
I lean into her, planting my lips on her mouth instead of saying yes.
When I pull back she smiles, and even though the light is dim, I can make out the look in her eyes.
Oh yeah, she loves me.
A grin breaks across my face, wide and foreign, yet so damn satisfying.
I drive her home as fast as I can and drop her close to her house, lighting her way until she disappears up the driveway.
Shit, I hope she’s not in too much trouble.
I wince, driving past her house to make sure she’s inside before turning around and heading back to my place.
27
The Safest Place in the World
CHLOE
The kitchen door squeaks when I open it. I wince and click it shut as quietly as I can. It’s twenty past ten and most of my family will be tucked up in bed already. Especially the night before a game. Dad’s kind of strict on that.
Holding my breath, I tiptoe through the kitchen and past the living room where Uncle Conrad is snoring. I stifle a giggle; he sounds like a foghorn. Creeping down the hallway, I nearly make it to my room when I’m brought up short by a snap from Mom and Dad’s room.
“Chloe, is that you? Get in here.”
I cringe and head down to the end of the hallway.
“Hey, sorry I’m late.”
“Where have you been?” Mom asks, checking her watch and then sitting up and
turning on the light. “Why didn’t you text?”
“My battery died,” I murmur, looking to the floor.
“Couldn’t you just have used Rahn’s phone?”
Shit! I didn’t know what Max’s cover was going to be. Rahn’s a safe bet. I’m glad she went with that.
I glance up with a remorseful frown and punch out the closest truth I can manage. “Okay, fine. I forgot. I’m sorry. I lost track of time and then when I did notice, we just jumped in the car and raced here.”
“I hope she wasn’t speeding.” Dad rubs a hand over his face while I roll my eyes. “You know, I don’t want you hanging out with Rahn on school nights if she’s going to be bringing you back this late. You have a game tomorrow.”
I look to the floor, wondering how I’m ever going to admit what I was really up to…or how I truly feel about Vincent Mancini.
“You know we trust you, Chloe.” Mom tips her head the way I do. “You’re the one we never have to worry about.”
“I know.” I wince. “And I’m really sorry I missed curfew. It won’t happen again. I appreciate your trust.”
Guilt singes my insides as I look between their smiles.
I think of Vincent and the night we’ve just spent together. How badly I want to do that again. How badly I’d love for them to know who he really is.
I can’t tell them I was with him tonight—that won’t do him any favors—but maybe I can tell them something.
Nerves attack me from all sides as I inch into the room and perch on the end of the bed. It’s hard to know which side to pick—both parents could erupt at this revelation—but I’m compelled to do it anyway.
“Actually, there’s something I have to tell you guys. I should have told you weeks ago, but I was worried you’d freak out.”
Dad groans and covers his face. “Please tell me you haven’t fallen in love with some loser and he’s got you pregnant.”
“Dad!”
“Reece!”
Mom and I complain in unison. She slaps his arm while I worry my lip.