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“Do you really think your boss would be happy if I hooked up with you in order to clear my father’s debts?” Our hands are now attached at the envelope, but he doesn’t grab it away, and I don’t let go.
It’s the only thing between us.
It feels like a lifeline.
Not just a lifeline to protecting my father anymore. Not just cash that will keep him out of trouble. But a flimsy wall between myself and this terrifying man.
“I could make it work,” he says, looking me over.
“I’d rather pay,” I say. Johnny’s eyes go dark.
“What if I don’t care what you’d rather do?” he asks, and the sinister nature of those words curls around me, swirls around us like venom in the air. I can almost see it threatening me. My hand drops the money as I step back, trying to get away.
My back hits the wall.
And Johnny steps forward, locking me in place.
“You know, I can always go to your sister if you can’t help. Maybe she could, one way or another.”
I have spent fifteen years protecting Lilah from the poor decisions of my father and keeping her safe from the secrets bred from the poor decisions of our mother. I’ve always been my little sister’s protector, always shielding her from this shit.
I won’t let this scumbag change that.
“Please, Johnny. Don’t. Leave Lilah out of this.”
“Lilah is such a pretty name. She looks so much like your mother, too—one of us.” Lilah got the most of my mother’s Italian, while I got Dad’s Irish. She has the curves and the skin that tans perfectly, striking features, and a perfectly sloped nose.
“Johnny. Please. I’ll . . . I’ll figure it out.” I take a deep breath, thinking. “Give me a week. I can . . . I can get more together next week.” My mind runs through what I can sell, what I can pull from, and how much I need to sell in cookies and cupcakes to get enough for him.
“At least fifteen grand. His total is up to one hundred.” I feel sick, knowing that since I last talked to my dad, thirty thousand dollars have been added to the total.
“I’ll figure it out,” I grit out. I guess I won’t be hiring an employee soon.
“I’ll need a retainer. Something so I know you mean business.”
“There’s four thousand in that envelope.”
“I’m not talking money,bellissima.” He steps closer to me until I back into a wall.
“Johnny—”
“Just a taste,” he says, and his breath hits my lips. Panic freezes me.
When you’re a woman, you think often about what you’d do in a situation like this.
It’s the sad truth of the world, that we all wonder what would happen if we were cornered by a man who had sick, ill intentions.
We all like to think we’d shout, scream, hit—anything.
But I just stand there.
A statue.
My mind is blank.
My body is ice, blood frozen in my veins.
“Johnny, please—”
