His pupils were glued to the screen, but I knew he was registering absolutely nothing.
He’d had very few brushes with civilian life outside the Camorra before today and preferred it this way. His soldiers, business partners, and other underground leaders did not recoil from his face and didn’t judge him for it.
“No. It’s fine. I’m watching it,” he clipped out.
The girls’ hushed whispers grew louder, with the words “fire” and “shame about the face” and “but his body’s great” ringing through the air.
I shifted in my seat. “Let’s go.”
“You wanted to watch a movie,” Achilles insisted flatly.
“Not anymore. It’s boring.”
Another wave of giggles sounded from behind us. This was ridiculous. I didn’t care that they were probably freshman at some expensive Manhattan college. They were old enough to know better.
Shooting up to my feet, I swiveled around to face them. “Got something to say?”
The two stared at me, wide-eyed. Upon closer inspection, they looked like they could be twenty-three or twenty-four.
“Ah…are you talking to us?” The one with the perpetual sneer stubbed her chest with a pink, pointy fingernail.
“Yeah, I’m talking to you. You’ve been whispering about my fiancé for half the movie. He’s taken, by the way.”
The girls’ mouth hung open.
Achilles sighed. “Tierney, leave it.”
“No, I wanna hear what they have to say,” I insisted. “What was so funny? I wanna laugh, too. And it had to be good because, instead of ogling Henry, they were staring at my man.”
That made the brunette one—without the pimples—burst out in a laugh. “Trust me, girl, you can have him.”
“I wasn’t asking permission. You really don’t want to see what I’m capable of if you look his way one more time.”
“Is that a threat?” Pimply girl stood up.
The shushing theatergoers were now silent, and everybody was looking at us.
“Nah, it’s a promise.” I smiled.
“Okay, we’re done here.” Achilles stood and scooped me by the waist, tossing me over his shoulder. “You clearly aren’t watching the movie, after all.”
“Let me down. I want to fight them.” I kicked my feet in the air while he sauntered to the stairs leading out of the theater.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because they were rude to us.”
“No, they were rude tome. And I don’t give a fuck.”
“But I?—”
“We’re finishing this discussion later.”
I had just enough time to look up and flip the two girls the bird before Achilles took us outside and placed me down on the sidewalk. It was chilly, but all I could feel was ire and heat for how they’d treated him.
“From now on, we’ll only do Camorra and Irish functions. I’m so sorry I brought you here.” I bit down on my lip.
“I’m not.” He pinched a cigarette between his fingers, grinning boyishly.
