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“What are you doing?” Lea cried. “Oh my God, Michael, what are you so freaking mad about?”
She wrenched her hand out of mine before I’d made it ten feet through the crowd. I scowled and grabbed it again, holding tighter when she tried to pull away and smack my shoulder.
“Fuckin’ stop,” I snapped.
“You stop,” she retorted as she twisted her body in vain. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you’re causing a scene!”
“I’m causing a scene?” I turned then, holding fast to one spot. The people around us were smart enough to step out of punching distance. Though they were happy to watch, the fuckin’ voyeurs. “You’re the one who came to a party in a goddamn handkerchief. Does your nonno know you left the house looking like that?”
“Fuck. Off!” Lea cut back. “I am an adult in case you hadn’t noticed. I can wear whatever the fuck I want.”
I honestly think she would have bitten me if she could have. She did not, however, answer my question, which led me to believe that no, Mattias Zola had no clue his beautiful granddaughter was out here fueling the spank bank of every man here and probably a bunch more on her way.
She twisted her hand free, only for me to catch it again. This time, I hauled her to me and wrapped my arm around her shoulder.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Lea seethed, her nails digging into my arm as she tried to shove it off. “You can take this caveman shit and shove it up your ass, Scarrone!”
“Try that again, and I’ll throw you over my shoulder and show you a caveman,” I growled into her ear.
“Bite me.”
“Baby girl, do not fuckin’ tempt me.”
If only she knew. She smelled so sweet, like that godforsaken mix of at least five types of liquor overlaid with the floral scent of her hair.
I shouldn’t have liked any of it, but I was hard as a rock.
Hard and furious. A toxic combination.
“You need somethin’?” I growled at a particularly hungry-eyed kid I barely recognized as Roland Nguyen, the dry-cleaner’s kid. Over his shoulder, I noted her friends watching wryly, like they knew this was good for her, even if they weren’t sure she would like it.
He shied immediately. “What up, Mike? Nothin’, man, just—she’s?—”
“She’s none of your fuckin’ business,” I snapped as I carted Lea toward the only other opening in the place besides the entrance.
“Cool, cool!” Roland called behind me. “I didn’t know she’s yours, man. I’ll let everyone know!”
I didn’t bother to correct him.
“What did he mean ‘she’s yours’?” Lea wondered. “I’m not yours. I’m not anyone’s!”
I ignored her as I brought her out to a makeshift balcony. Four other people were already out there, enjoying a smoke while they looked across the East River toward…of course. Rikers fuckin’ Island.
Well, it was a good reminder of what I didn’t want to be anymore.
“Out,” I ordered the people eyeing us through a cloud of cigarette smoke.
“Scarrone!” answered one of them. “What the fuck, man, I heard you?—”
“I need a minute,” I said to whoever had said my name. Honestly, right now, I didn’t fucking care. I was too mad.
Quickly, they cleared out. For once, I was glad I had a reputation. It made moments like these easier. Nothing clears a room like a bad fuckin’ temper.
“What the hell, Michael?” Lea demanded once I finally let her go. “You dragged me out here for no reason! That was so embarrassing!”
“That was embarrassing?” I exploded. “Sweetheart, you just announced to half the fuckin’ Bronx that you’re willing to give your virginity to the next dude in line.”
“Oh, please. That was obviously a joke.”
