Once we’re off the bridge, we pull into the parking lot of a seedy-looking Italian restaurant near the river.I’m sure it’s much nicer inside, though the grimy awning and the cracked and lopsided lettering of the name—Luigi’s—do not suggest that.They’re suggesting we’d be better off to steer clear of it.
But I get out of the car and follow Angelo inside anyway.I’ll most likely be doing a lot of that in the next few months, following Angelo, that is.I’m still not sure it’s the best thing to do.But I truly no longer have a choice.Nor does Goldie.If I want her to live.
Chapter35
GIANNA
The day passedin a blur of feelings washing over me, brought on by daydreams of Matteo and memories of his kisses and his hands caressing me—his wonderfully tattooed hands that I must have a closer look at soon.There were also so many questions from my sisters that my head was spinning just from that alone.
It’s finally night.Everyone is asleep.The city below my windows seems to sleep too.But I still feel like I’m spinning.Like I’m one of those ballerinas in a music box, endlessly twirling to the music.I’m wound up just like she is.Matteo wound me up.And I hope he’ll soon do it all over again.
He’s outside the door to the apartment.I know, because I tiptoed to check.And if he doesn’t come into my bedroom soon, I’ll go out there and drag him in.
I never knew such a pull from another person existed.Not from someone who is not your blood.I miss my sisters and my parents with my whole being when we’re apart, but not like this.Not with this raw need to be near him, to touch him, to have his arms around me, his lips on mine.The only thing that compares is the pain I felt when I lost my brother.But that was pure sadness, total anguish.This hurts, but in a good way, in a way that makes me feel alive like I’ve never felt before.
I think I hear the floorboards creaking under his steps in the hall outside my bedroom.But I’m not certain it’s not just wishful thinking until the door opens and he steps in, bathed in light all his own despite the darkness.
“You’ve been waiting,” he says and it’s not a question.
I rise from the edge of the bed and let my silk kimono slip off my shoulders and down to the floor, showing him the gift I prepared for his visit tonight.I’m not wearing anything underneath and the heat of his gaze is suddenly hotter than the desert sun.All that heat is washing over me now as he takes in my nakedness, his lips curling into an appreciative grin, his eyes bright in the darkness.
I walk to him, slowly, like a cat, perfectly balanced, pulled by an invisible string that he’s holding.
“I want to be yours,” I whisper.“Take me.”
I heard that line in a movie I once watched.Or maybe it was a book I read.It’s the perfect thing to say right now, as I give myself to him.
There’s hunger in his eyes.A desire so raw and hot it burns my skin.I’m sure he’ll grab me and do as I asked any moment now.
But he’s not moving.Not grabbing me.Not kissing me.He’s just looking at me like he very much wants to.
“Get dressed, Goldie,” he finally says, his voice hoarse as though it’s been burned away by the heat of all that desire shooting from his eyes.
“No,” I say, but it’s a tiny little sound.I feel like he’d slapped me in the face and pushed me away.So why aren’t I lying on the floor?I’ve never felt rejection this burning, this absolute, this painful.
He walks past me and picks up my kimono, then wraps it around my shoulders.
“Not like this, Goldie,” he says.“Not yet.I won’t dishonor you by taking you like a thief in the night.”
His words lessen the sting of rejection a little.But they don’t wash it away.
“It’s my honor, I can do what I want with it.And you are a thief in the night,” I say.“Unless you don’t want me at all.”
He grabs the back of my head and kisses me, so deeply and hungrily, so passionately that I feel like I’m spinning again, faster and harder than before.The sting of rejection is gone, replaced by a need for him that’s even brighter than it was before.
But then he releases me and steps back.
“Soon, Goldie,” he says.“Soon you’ll be mine.”
Then he leaves, the floorboards creaking louder than before, as though he’s actually running.I almost run after him.Almost scream for him to come back.To take me now.To make me his.Because he already has.Thief or not, I’m already his.I should probably be scared of that, but I’m not.
Chapter36
MATTEO
Picturingher naked was one thing.That was easy to ignore… oreasier, at least.Now that I know what’s waiting for me underneath her clothes it’s all I see.Even when my eyes are wide open, not just when I close them.
Lunch with Angelo lasted until dinnertime and I now know more about him and his plans than I ever wanted to.But his story is so similar to mine—family killed in a feud, getting sidelined and looked over by those more powerful, and generally treated like less than dirt—that I couldn’t help identifying with him.
