Fate Book Two (12 page)

“Ah. So sorry,” he said to me. “I must return to my game.”

“No problem. Nice meeting you all.” I slowly backed out of the room, praying to God that I could make it out of there in one piece. I mean, what if they recognized me? According to my father, my picture had been circulated all over the Internet. Where, specifically? I didn’t know. I imagined that the despicable people of the world had their version of Craigslist or maybe they used Facebook. Who knew?

Horse and I turned back to the kitchen. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I had no idea they’d be here.”

“I really think we should leave.”

Oh God. Oh God.
That room had been filled with cutthroat thugs, and I was a delicious piece of fresh meat—my father’s daughter.

Horse looked at me. “Are you all right, princess?”

“Sure. What could possibly be wrong?”

He pointed over his shoulder as we walked. “You don’t think anyone here would hurt you?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Why would I think that?”

“Good. Because that’s not how my family is.”

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever.” I couldn’t believe how incredibly casual Horse was being about this. Like, “Oh hey, look! It’s my murdering uncle. Let me introduce you.” My only conclusion was that he was used to it.

Horse must’ve sensed my discomfort, because he said, “All right. I’ll take you to your hotel, but let me tell my grandmother you’re not feeling well. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“Sure. Sounds good,” I said calmly, trying to regain my composure. But as badly as I wanted to bolt off to the limo, I had to pee. Seemed that Bob had finally caught up with me, and meeting the infamous Giuseppe hadn’t helped.

I think I might be sick, too.

“Can I use the restroom?” I asked.

“Sure, it’s down this hall to your right. I’ll see you back in the kitchen.”

I thanked him and rushed off to the ode-to-all-things-gold-plated bathroom. When I emerged, after freeing my bladder and splashing cold water on my face, that gross skinny guy who’d yelled at Giuseppe to get on with the game was standing right outside the door. He wore a white button-down shirt with one too many buttons missing at the top, exposing the forest-like black hairs on his chest. His greasy face and bloodshot eyes screamed drunk and down on his luck.

“Well, hello there.” He pushed me back inside the bathroom. I was about to scream, but he cupped his foul-smelling, cigar-smoke-covered hand over my mouth, and backed me against the golden counter.

My body bowed back, pushing my hips into him, but it also gave me something to grab onto: the edge of the counter.

I thrust forward with my chest and shoulders, pushing him back long enough to scream, “Get away from me!” I then grabbed a square glass vase sitting next to the sink. I swung, but missed when he dipped his head to the side. The vase crashed to the floor and the door flew open. I expected to see Horse, but those dark, pissed-as-hell eyes greeted me instead.

Felix.
I had no idea what he was doing there or how he knew to find me in the bathroom, but the moment skinny greaseball saw him, he let go of me. And whatever seething threat Felix made worked. The man raised his palms in surrender before sliding out of the room past Felix.

“Fuck.” I bent over to catch my breath.

“Are you all right?” he asked, trying to help me stand up straight.

“Yeah.” I nodded frantically. “I think so.” I stood and blew out a breath.

“I’m sorry about that. Uncle Alberto just got out of jail, and he’s drunk.”

Like that was an excuse? And, holy shit. Who let him out?

I was about to say it was fine and that I just wanted to leave, but when I looked into Felix’s dark eyes, there was an undeniable possessiveness I’d seen in Paolo’s eyes the day he shot my “English teacher” who’d kidnapped me. Paolo’s expression was identical, like he wanted to kill the man all over again for touching me.

My mouth dropped open. “It is you,” I whispered. How the hell was he fooling his entire family? Or his father, for that matter?

Look at your own dad, Dakota. Think if you had a twin, he could tell you apart
? It was true, I didn’t see him that often, so I supposed a child could fool a parent. Still, that would be a seriously ballsy move.

He blinked a few times and then frowned as if trying to get into character.

“Don’t,” I growled. “Don’t you fucking dare, Paolo. I know it’s you.”

“Again, crazy American, you’ve got it all wrong.”

I know that people think girls cry for no reason at all or only when they’re sad, but some of us are wired differently. For whatever reason, my tear ducts were connected to the angry, frustrated, and overwhelmed emotions, too. And right now, I felt all three.

The tears welled in my eyes. “Please don’t do this, Paolo. I know you think you’re protecting me from something, but you’re not.”

He looked away, his jaw clenching angrily.

“Please, just tell me why you left. Tell me what you’re doing here, and I’ll go home. I’ll never see you again or try to talk to you. I’ll slip away and disappear from your life forever. Just…tell me the truth.”

With his chest heaving and fists clenched, he held his gaze away.

“Look at me, goddammit. Fucking look at me!” I reached for him, and he caught my wrist.

Rage poured from his eyes. “Go. The. Fuck. Home. You crazy American bitch.”

His words were a knife right through my chest. “Fine. But I want you to know that whatever this is, whatever you think you’re doing, it’s a mistake. Because someday it will be over, and you’ll wonder how you ended up alone.”

“Leah! What the fuck?” Horse stood in the doorway, obviously wondering what happened and likely assuming Felix had done it.

I marched out of the bathroom past Horse. “Just take me to my hotel.”

“Sure. Okay,” he said.

I heard soft mumbles as Horse and “Felix” exchanged words, but I didn’t stop until I got outside to the awaiting limo.

The driver popped out, but I’d already opened the door and slid inside. Horse showed up moments later. “What the hell happened in the bathroom?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Did Felix touch you? Because I swear—”

“Nope. I’m good.”

Horse stared at me for a long moment and then told the driver to go.

After a few minutes of seething quietly, Horse finally said, “Fuck. I’m so sorry, Leah. I know that must have scared you, but they are not as bad as you think. Most of what you hear is media gossip, a leftover from the old days.”

I knew that Horse genuinely regretted bringing me to his grandmother’s house, but I didn’t care. Because now I knew for certain that was Paolo masquerading as Felix and every interaction we’d had was meant to drive me away. Whatever was going on with him, he felt it was more important than me or my heart.
I’m just glad I didn’t marry him.

I glanced over at Horse, who looked pissed as hell.

“I’m fine. I promise,” I said. But I wasn’t. I was hurt and confused and pissed off.
What the fuck, Paolo!

“But you don’t believe me.”

“About what?” Was he irritated with me? With
me
?

“My family.”

He seemed concerned about what I thought, which was odd, but he was right; I didn’t believe for a second that any of those men were nice people. Especially Uncle Alberto and Giuseppe. And if Granny was so sweet, why in the world was she allowing all of those shady men in her home with guns and coke and whatever the hell else they’d had on that table? I mean, come on. She had to know. It wasn’t like they were hiding the stuff.

“I think you’re lying to yourself,” I said bluntly, “because some people can’t help who they are.”
Complete assholes. Like Paolo. Sonofabitch…

“What does that mean?” Horse asked.

I turned to him and saw a tormented look in his eyes that reminded me of Paolo. It was like he was fighting with himself inside his head. Suddenly, I felt sorry for Horse. He couldn’t help the family he’d been born into, and clearly he was trying to make the best of his world.

And here I was taking out my anger on the poor guy.

I sighed. “It means you’re a nice person. That’s all.”

Horse mumbled in Italian and looked away.

“Can I ask why you work for Nikki and not your family?”

He shrugged. “I want to start my own celebrity security service, and working for Nikki is good experience.”

“Why not work for Giuseppe?”

He looked at me strangely. “What is your point, princess?”

I wasn’t sure. I guess I wanted to know if he realized that he wasn’t cut from their same criminal fabric.

Just like…Paolo?

Hmph. Shut up, Dakota.
This was no time to start putting Paolo up on a pedestal or trying to come up with some reason that justified whatever it was he’d done to me.

“Never mind. No point,” I said.

When the limo pulled up to my dive-palace, I didn’t wait for the driver to open the door.

“Leah!” Horse called out, following behind me.

I turned and looked up at him.

“Am I ever going to see you again?” he asked.

I was about to say no, but honestly, I didn’t want to sound like a complete bitch. “Uh. Sure. Next time you’re in the States.”

He dug his cell from his pocket. “What’s your number?”

Dangit
. I didn’t really have one. “I lost it.”

He gave me a look. “You lost your number?”

I shook my head. “No, I mean, I lost my phone. I’ll have to get a replacement when I get home and—”

“If you don’t want me to call you, say so.”

I blew out a breath. “I…I…”

He reached for my hand, yanked me forward and planted his lips on my mouth. He slid his arm to the small of my back and held me to his lean frame. I was shocked at first, but then all of those sorry, sad, twisting emotions from what had just happened with Paolo hit hard. I needed something to…I didn’t know. Maybe bury myself in. I slid my hand to the nape of his neck and kissed him back. His tongue expertly stroked the inside of my mouth, and I felt him relaxing against me as if slipping away to that place where you go when you lose yourself in a person. I’d been to that place so many damned times with Paolo, but I wouldn’t be going there now.

I gently pulled away and stared up into his big green eyes. “It was really, really nice meeting you, Horse.”

He brushed the hair from the side of my face. “You, too, Princess Leah. May the force be with you.”

I laughed and then shook my head. He was a nice guy. Strangely warped by his criminal family, but nice.

He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to me. “Call me if you’re ever in Rome again.”

“Will do. Goodnight.”

I slipped into the hotel lobby and made my way up to my sad little everything-brown-to-hide-the-grime room. I stripped off my clothes and headed straight for a hot shower. I didn’t know where I’d be going in the morning—there was no point going to see my father and asking for his help any longer—but I wanted to find a quiet town filled with nice people where I could forget I’d ever met Paolo.

As soon as I was done washing off the stench of cigar and sleazeball, I would start researching places to go. Maybe a small town in Florida or somewhere north in Canada. The only thing that mattered was finding a place to cry where no one could see me do it. I felt so ashamed about having loved someone who’d throw me away like that.

I shut off the shower and stepped out, wrapping a sad little hotel towel—about two-thirds the size of a regular bath towel—partially around my midriff. What was with this hotel? Were they trying to save money by buying child-size stuff?

I heard a faint rustle in the other room and froze.
Oh shit.
I’d left the bathroom door slightly ajar, so I leaned forward a bit to see if anything or anyone was visible. There was nothing but the view of the brown bedspread. I looked around the bathroom for a weapon, but…

Towel rod!

I stared at the thing for a brief moment, knowing I wouldn’t have much time to rip it from the wall and come out swinging. And I’d have to use my foot as leverage to pry it away, but that meant I’d have to give up my goddamned towel.

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. Either way, the towel would not be helping me. But…frigging hell. Fighting someone nude was so crazy.

Maybe it will give you an advantage. They won’t be expecting it.

I released my towel and gripped the towel rod with two hands.
One, two, three!
I pulled as hard as I could, jerking the thing right out of the plaster. I turned and dashed for the door, yanking it open with one hand while holding the improvised club in the other.

The moment I emerged from the bathroom,
I
got the surprise.

“Paolo? What are you doing here?” I growled.

His dark eyes swept my body from head to toe. “We need to talk.”

“Like hell we do!” I rushed at him and swung.

CHAPTER TEN

“You hit hard for a girl,” he growled, sitting on the bed and holding his hand to his head.

Now dressed in jeans and a tee and leaning against the small vanity next to the TV, I crossed my arms and glared. I wanted to give him another lump. “Maybe you shouldn’t sneak into girls’ hotel rooms.”

Who’s he calling a girl, anyway?

“I wanted to be sure you were alone.” He looked up at me with those cold, dark eyes, his muscular shoulders sagging a bit underneath his black suit.

“What for?”

“My father recognized you. That’s why I’m here.”

Oh shit!
“Giuseppe knows who I really am?”

He nodded.

My heart began beating so hard I thought it might crack a rib. “So what’s he going to do?”

“Not him. Me.”

I jerked my head back a bit and frowned. I didn’t follow.

“You are one foolish girl.” He rose from the bed and took a step toward me.

I held out my hands. “Whoa. Excuse me? Before you go lobbing insult grenades, don’t you think you’re missing some stuff here? Like why you left me at the altar? Why you’re pretending to be Felix?”