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“What are we doing here?” I asked, not expecting a truthful answer.
“Buying time. They won’t look here.”
“You’re certain of that.”
He slowly turned his head before slowing down. “At this point, I’m not certain of anything, princess, but it’s the best chance we have of remaining alive.” The change in his tone was drastic. Where he’d gone from being almost completely silent to dominating, the deep bass was gravelly and completely authoritative.
The same could be said about the look in his eyes. They were just as piercing, but cold and calculating in a way that stole my breath, leaving me quivering inside. The one thing I’d seen over the years, including with Enzo. While he’d been a dangerous kid from as early as I could remember, the mafia had a way of stripping away the ability to be nothing more than a child. I’d known the moment when what little humanity he’d had buried inside had been snuffed out, leaving his soul twisted.
Nicolo had the same look, as if he’d lost his more likeable personality, tossing the mask aside. He was still insanely attractive, perhaps even more so, but the change left me with feelings of terror. I was in the hands of a beast. I was certain of it.
Even if the man had obviously saved my life, the little voice inside my head told me he’d planned on taking me away from everything I knew. Maybe my brother’s interference had expedited the plans.
“Don’t call me princess,” I rebutted, additional knots forming in my stomach.
After making another turn down a street, he reached over me to the glove compartment. The minute his hand brushed across my knee, I shuddered, my core heating. How could I still be attracted to him?
I hadn’t realized I’d shuddered visibly until I noticed his scowl. “Relax, Lucia. I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”
“Fuck you.”
His hard glare remained. Everything about his impenetrable stare sent waves of unwanted tingles throughout my body. When he pulled his hand free, I noticed a small instrument like a garage door opener nestled in his fingers. He scanned every mirror before making a turn down a long gravel driveway, the garage door of the dilapidated building in front of us opening quickly.
He parked the car inside, the door immediately closing after us. I’d barely noticed the house itself, although I had seen iron bars on the front windows. My guess was that he’d had them installed. Part of his plan.
Nicolo said nothing as he hopped out, grabbing a bag from the backseat and shaking off the glass. As the headlights began to dim, the overhead light from the car became the only source. I remained where I was, not because of my usual rebellious attitude but because the reality of what I was facing hit me hard, smashing into me with such fury I struggled to breathe. I clawed my neck, taking shallow breaths.
He lowered his head, the heat of his stare uncomfortable where it had once left me aching between my legs.
His sigh was exaggerated, obviously not expecting I’d fight him, which was ridiculous. “It’s going to be okay.”
“How?” I spat at him, snapping my head in his direction.
Goddamn the man’s good looks, my gaze falling to the sexy scruff crossing the sharp edges of his jaw. “That’s what we’re going to figure out together.”
I was struck by his words, almost laughing at the thought. Including me in the plans for what? By the time he opened the residential door leading to a short walkway, the same weapon was in his hand. As crazy as it sounded, I was trying to count off the number of bullets he’d fired in front of the coffee store, wondering if he had any left.
It was obvious I was still in a state of shock, but I could feel the anger spinning deep inside. He continuously looked from side to side as he unlocked the backdoor, pulling me behind him as we stepped inside. He immediately disarmed a security system, allowing us inside. I wanted nothing more than to push him away and run, but I wouldn’t make it two blocks without being caught.
Besides, the raw scent of his masculinity and his musky cologne forced my pussy to throb. He closed the door with a soft click, pitching us into shadowed darkness for a few seconds. Using the glow of the system, he rearmed it, making it impossible to open the door without him knowing it. When he flicked on a light, he immediately moved through the kitchen toward the hallway, both hands on his weapon.
Blinds covered the windows, the thick plastic blocking out the majority of the outside light. I was struck by how scattered my mind had become, barely able to process everything that had occurred.
The room was devoid of anything personal, but surprisingly clean and bright. He’d spent no money updating the appliances, knowing at some point his security system would be breached. He returned a few seconds later, tossing the bag he’d carried in on the kitchen table. The awkwardness between us was worse than the first night I’d met him, but the fire in his eyes burned hotter.
He took a few seconds gazing down the length of me before turning his head. For the first time, his commanding stare left me feeling vulnerable, oxygen sucked from my lungs. I purposely flitted my gaze toward the duffle bag, guessing the contents.
Then he moved toward one of the cabinets, pulling out two glasses, yanking a whiskey bottle from under another. His silence was almost as disturbing as the events from before, and when he walked closer, all I could concentrate on was the sound of his footsteps on the linoleum floor.
He tried to hand me a glass and I shook my head. “Drink it, Lucia. You need it.” His glare remained stern, a single brow lifting until I accepted the gesture. It was difficult not to follow his orders, the tone of his voice dangerously addictive. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but I still feared him. He’d killed several men with ease.
After taking a deep breath, he pulled away, conscience of the fact I was looking at him entirely differently. I could tell by the myriad emotions crossing his face, none of them good. When he leaned against the counter, crossing his long legs at the ankles, the quiver coursing through me turned into a wave of blasting heat.
“Now that we’re here, you need to tell me everything,” I demanded, trying to regain my defiant attitude, even though it felt as if I had the weight of a boulder in my stomach.
“I will.”
“Just not now.”
