Page 269 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

“I don’t believe in coincidences, Marchella.” His gaze darkens as he stares down at me. “I came here for you.”

CHAPTER7

ROMAN

Holy Christ.

What in the ever-loving fuck am I doing here in this shithole park, holding the woman whose world I’m about to shatter? She’s already had enough shit to deal with over the years, and here I am ready to dish out some more?

My gut twists. I wanted to see her again last night…so fucking badly.

But I would have done things…bad things…things that would have come from a dark place inside of me. The place where my need for vengeance festers.

I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from taking what I’d wanted for so long and then justifying it because of what her asshole brother did to me.

The rage would have ignited and incinerated everyone in its path.

I was smart enough to stay away last night.

Not so much today.

After finding out Frankie led the charge on the robbery, and then when the plans to snatch Marchella came together, I knew I had to see her one more time before all hell broke loose and swallowed her whole.

So I drove all the way up here and waited for her.

I knew it was only a matter of time before she’d step outside of that dingy apartment building where they live. It was too nice of a day to stay inside, and as far as Frankie knew, nobody was coming after him, so he’d never have warned her to lay low.

Fucking idiot.

I followed her into the park, managed to keep up with her frantic jog, even though running isn’t my chosen form of cardio, and saved her from cracking her head on a boulder while she chased a stray.

Now she’s in my arms.

And pretty soon she’ll be sprawled in my trunk.

I told my guys to hang back, that I needed to check out the scene first to make sure it was safe for us to move forward with our plans. But it was all bullshit. I had to see her again. The spark between us sizzled from the second I left her at the restaurant, and the aftershocks kicked up whenever I’d picture her face in my mind afterward.

It’s almost as if she was a sliver of sanity and I needed to grasp onto her to ground myself.

All of the teenaged lust came rushing back with an unparalleled force, and the things I dreamed of doing to her and with her consumed my conscience when I wasn’t thinking about jamming an ice pick into Frankie’s eye.

The events of the past couple of days fester under my skin like an infection that can’t be killed with even the strongest antibiotic. Shit is slipping away from me — my credibility, my ferocity, my power — and even though I’ve tried to yank it back, it keeps eluding me.

I guess I felt like I had one last lifeline to grasp onto —her.

I know I’ll never have her the way I want her. It’s not like I could ever act on it, not after what Frankie pulled, and not with our family history.

And after I ‘handle’ Frankie, I’m pretty sure she’d never come near my with a ten-foot pole…unless she had one to swing at me.

“You came here for me,” she repeats, a look of disbelief flitting across her features.

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“You blew off our date,” she says sharply. “But then again, youdidleave me a pretty generous tip, even after I dumped a highball full of scotch into your lap,” she says, her full pink lips lifting.

“I did.” I look around. We’re still alone for the immediate future.

Safe. Guarded. Protected by all the damn trees.

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