“Then we’ll come with you, ma’am, to keep you safe.”
“You could ride there in our car,” Crater offers, gesturing at the black Prius parked across the street.
I clench down on my teeth. I’m going on a run because I need an escape. Because it feels like there are walls closing around me.
Crater and Boulder are effectively walls.
But I don’t argue with them. I have a plan in mind. I let them lead me to their car and I slide into the back seat. We arrive at the park soon enough and I step down slowly, preparing myself.
They watch as I lean down to tighten my shoelaces.
“You’re going to run with me, aren’t you?” I ask the men.
“Yes,” Crater answers.
“Alright.” I rise, cracking my knuckles. “Catch me if you can.”
Before they can blink, I take off, running down the narrow path. I hear their soft muttered curses behind me as they follow, trying to keep up. I know this place better than they do and it’s dark. A few sharp turns and, soon enough, I’ve lost them.
I run as fast as I can, feeling my heart strain with the movement. But I also feel exhilaration run through me. Blood pumps through my veins.
And I think to myself that maybe I’ve fallen for a fucking mafia boss and I don’t know what the hell to do about it.
CHAPTER 13
Matteo
Ican’t get Lindsay out of my mind. Not her voice. Not her smell. And I keep thinking about her eyes.
Those damning blue eyes. The way they’d stoked the flames within me. I think about the way she moved against me. I think about bending her over and fucking her until nothing else matters.
The way she kissed me. The fierceness with which she stood up to the men who tried to kill her.
I think about the fear in her eyes after I killed those men. I think about what she said.
Sometimes you’re worse than the nightmares, Matteo.
The memory hits sharp and unwelcome and I drive my fist into Raffaele’s stomach. The impact lands clean. Solid.
He grunts, the air leaving him in a rush as he folds slightly at the waist. For a second, I think he might stay down. He doesn’t.
Raffaele straightens slowly, dragging in a breath, then another and then he grins. Maniacally.
“Again,” he says.
Of course.
I roll my shoulders once, resetting, the tension still coiled tight beneath my skin. The ring sits in the center of thebasement, surrounded by concrete and low lighting that casts everything in shadow. Raffaele’s place is built for excess, every room serving a purpose I don’t bother to question.
Some of them, I don’t want to.
This one is simple. Violence.
Elio leans against the far wall, arms crossed, watching with too much interest. Salvatore stands beside him, quieter, his attention sharper. Neither of them have said a word in several minutes. They simply watch.
I don’t usually do this.
Raffaele’s never gotten me into the ring before. Not until tonight.
