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His name makes the blood in my veins stir, and I’m not sure why.
Make the most of it? His words float through my head. As we drive, the conversation flows about nothing, carefully about nothing. No dreams or desires or personal things when it’s as personal as can be.
Maybe it’s because my father crafted my life to be one of isolation, friends whittered away until there were only mafia offspring left in my circle. I tell Cal this through funny stories and escapades that are more pathetic than I paint them, how I tried to live a life without the dreams that simmer and rock against the surface, things that can never be.
I’d visit places that felt like freedom but never were, my acts of rebellion so tiny they made no difference to even my world, let alone to any others in it.
He smiles, laughs, adds the empty and appropriate comments where they all belong, but each one of those things he says holds more. Truths. Like he can see me…beyond the façade.
Or maybe it’s all in my head.
We’re now in Pennsylvania. I’m not sure where, the highway has given way to smaller roads as he weaves us through towns, through the woods that cover either side, until he turns, finally, somewhere around midnight, into what looks like private property.
“Dad’s or the future husband’s?” I ask as he parks at the top of a long driveway in front of a two-story house.
“Neither.” His gaze is long before he gets out and opens the door for me. Holding out his hand. “I’m third party. My job is to deliver you, unharmed, and on time.”
“No one trusts the other.”
A muscle works in his jaw, his movement around the car setting off sensors that give the area a soft, welcoming glow. In the light he looks both hardened and full of promises.
“My job,” he says softly, “is to make sure no one tries to fuck this up.”
“Do you think they will?”
“No.”
I nod. “I could bribe you into letting me go.”
I don’t know where those words come from but his hand doesn’t waver.
“You’re born into this.”
“I know my place,” I say. “I don’t have to like it.”
He lets out a soft sigh. And it’s so low I almost miss it. “This isn’t my decision.”
I recognize the tone, the implacable edges that tell me what’s done is done and there’s no way out. But the center…it holds a gentle regret.
I’m familiar with the first one, but not the latter.
Cal’s like no mafia man I know. He’s good looking and hard edged with that softness inside that calls to me. But it could all just be in my head because I’m going to a man I’ve never met.
I put my hand in his.
It’s like the world stops breathing as heat and an electric current runs through me.
Our eyes meet, lock and I can see worlds there.
For one bright moment I think the softness in him is just for me.
For one bright moment there’s something deep in that heat and spark and it makes my body throb low and deep.
And he looks at me like he feels it too. Like he wants to devour me whole.
“It’s time.” He drops my hand.
And he leaves me no choice but to follow.
