The poor boy nods rapidly. “Y-Yes, sir. What can I help you with?”
Rocco finally steps a little to the side, but stays close enough that if the kid even thinks about looking down again, he’ll lose a limb.
I bite back a smile. “I need a phone,” I say softly.
The kid perks up—too much. “Oh—cool! Anything specific you want?”
I glance at Rocco. He shakes his head, already unimpressed.
“Don’t ask her what she wants,” Rocco says. “Show her the best one. She’s not getting anything cheap.”
The kid nearly stumbles over himself rushing to the display case. “We just got the newest model in yesterday,” he says, pulling out a sleek box. “It comes in black, silver, white, blue, and—”
He hesitates, looking between me and Rocco.
Rocco raises a brow. “You scared of colors, kid?”
“N-No, sir. Pink. It comes in pink.”
I can’t help it. A laugh slips out. Rocco glances at me, a tiny grin tugging at his mouth before he schools his expression again.
“I think pink,” I say quietly.
Rocco nods once. “Good choice.”
We spend the next fifteen minutes picking out a case, screen protector, and whatever else Rocco insists I need. When they ring everything up, the kid slides the total across the counter.
Rocco shakes his head. “Nope. Put that on the account Alessandro Moretti has here.”
The kid blanches and I see the fear in his eyes in an instant. “O-oh. Oh. Yes, sir.”
We walk out with a bag full of accessories and the brand-new phone I’m practically vibrating to open.
Rocco unlocks the SUV, then looks down at me.
“You happy?” he asks.
I glance up at him and nod, a real smile spreading across my face. “Yeah,” I breathe. “I really am.”
He gives a single, satisfied nod, then circles around to the driver’s seat.
As he pulls out of the parking lot, I think about how much has changed. How much safer I feel. How much more me I feel. And how, somehow, without forcing it or pushing or prying, Rocco has become someone I trust. Someone solid. Someone who feels like… family.
Rocco drives us out of the parking lot with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually near the gearshift. It feels like any other ride home. Relaxed. Safe. Normal.
I’m scrolling through settings on my brand-new phone, trying to figure out how to change the wallpaper, when—
A black SUV flies into the intersection. Too fast. Too close.
“Roc—” He sees it a millisecond before I say his name.
“Hold on!”
The impact hits us like an explosion. Metal screams. Glass shatters. My body whips sideways so fast I don’t even have time to scream.
The world flips—once, twice—gravity shredding my sense of direction until I don’t know which way is up. The SUV hangs upside down, the interior choked with smoke and the sharp scent of gasoline. My ears ring. My head throbs. Everything feels distant.
Rocco is already moving. He pushes himself toward me across the broken glass and twisted metal, grabbing the back of my head with both hands to steady me.
