“Vincenzo.”
I ignored her flat tone. If I knew her, and I did, she was getting ready to fight.
“Eat.” And because my tone was hard, I softened the moment by adding, “Fiore.”
Amanda closed her eyes. She reached up and put a hand on her throat. The buttery, cakey goodness turned to ash on my tongue.
“I have to—” The words were a strangled breath.
Amanda stumbled out of the booth.
I caught sight of the tremor in her hands. Heard the stilted gasps for air.Fuck….I didn’t realize she was this badly agitated!
“Amanda, wait.” I wanted to kick myself. But in my defense, she’d hidden herdistress well.
Too damn well.
Porca miseria! She was prone to panic attacks, and the stress of the weekend was likely to send her over the edge. Yet another reason I wanted her close. To make it so she didn’t suffer through them alone—maybe not at all!
Muttering a curse, I climbed out after her. My size and the tight fit of the table slowed the motion. She was already scampering out the door.
“We’ll be right back,” I barked at the waitress, who was about to protest.
Even in pointy heels, Amanda could book it fast. She bolted down the sidewalk. I had to jog, my long strides eating the distance. There was a group of men ahead, lounging outside a bar. The last thing I wanted to do was cause a scene.
But as I closed in on her, some sixth sense rose to the surface. Warning bells pealed in my mind. A car approached from behind. Wheels rolled down the asphalt.
“Mandy! Duck,” I shouted, springing forward the last few steps.
My arms wrapped protectively around her slight frame. I tackled her as gunfire erupted around us.
“Enzo!” Amanda gasped.
We hit the ground hard.
My knee slammed into the pavement. Pain burned up my leg, but I curled into her, covering that precious body with mine. Unholy terror gripped me. There wasn’t even the urge to fight, only to protect.
The rippling menace of war crackled through the dark. Shouts echoed the exchange of gunshots. One of the men at the bar groaned loudly.
I tensed, clutching her tighter. I didn’t dare look up.
It was over in seconds. The car’s wheels squealed as the engine whined and the threat rushed away.
The rapid thump of my heart didn’t hide the panicked gulps of air that stilted from Amanda.
She’s safe.
Nothing hit me, ergo, nothing hit her.
Through the blinding terror, one thought pinged softly in the back of my mind. Its presence was calm. A balm to the rushing, swirling madness.
This could work to my advantage.
And it wouldn’t even be a lie.
“Let’s move,” I muttered into her hair.
If she acknowledged me, it was silent. I pulled her up and hurried her two blocks back to the diner. She didn’t protest as we slid onto my bike, but her grip was weak. Growling, I spun her around so she straddled me, draped over my front like a monkey. I didn’t pause for the helmet inside. She would be safe with me. I wove the bike down the street, taking the first right, then a left.
