"She must've been something serious for you to risk everything."
Vinny looked away.
I studied his profile quietly.
"Would you do it all over again?" I asked, softer this time.
"Yes."
"Tell me about her." I wanted to know what was so impressive about her that he would even give up his parents for.
Vinny went still beside me.
For a second, I thought he was gonna shut down completely.
Then finally:
"She was little."
I blinked. "That's the first thing you say?"
A faint smirk touched his mouth.
"She was always cold." His voice sounded distant now. Somewhere else. "Used to steal hoodies and socks from me constantly."
I smiled before I could stop myself.
"She sounds cute."
"She was, and it was annoying sometimes."
I watched him carefully while he talked.
The hard edges of him disappeared when he talked about her.
Like somewhere under all the violence and grief, there was still a man capable of loving somebody gently.
I looked away after seeing that. Feeling a tinge of envy.
Suddenly this all felt too personal. Too intimate. I tuned him out until he shifted beside me and I realized he had stopped talking about her.
"You asking a lot of questions tonight," he muttered.
I smirked a little.
"You started it talking about your feelings first."
Chapter Twenty-Two— Vinny
The days in this cabin were starting to blur together, and I didn't mind. That terrified me.
For the first time in eight years, I wasn't running. I wasn't looking over my shoulder every five minutes or sleeping with one eye open. I was existing in this strange man's strange-ass bubble where it felt like the outside world couldn't touch. I felt… safe.
In all my life I'd only ever felt anything close to this kind of security with Momma Graham—tucked away in her hood apartment where someone actually gave a fuck if I ate, slept, if you were still breathing when the sun came up. She had given me an unconditional sanctuary. But this? This was different.
I was starting to like this too much. Like him too much. I hated myself for it. I didn't do feelings, and I damn sure didn't do dependency, but… I was feeling. A lot.
The realization scared me more than any gun ever had. I didn't want to like him. I didn't want to feel safe with him, because in our world, safety was a lie that got you killed. If I let my guard down and got used to his protection, what the fuck was I supposed to do when the streets inevitably came calling? I couldn't afford to get soft.
