Page 23 of The Deadly Candies

“Sì. Mia ragazza.Us. You. You, my girl.”

“Matteo, are you insane? I don’t even know you.” She pushed his hand away and shut her knees.

Matteo blinked at her confused. “But at Esposito?—”

“I was just being a friend. The kind you need. That’s all,” she said, and her eyes darted nervously around.

He turned her chin to make sure her eyes connected with his. “Are you this friendly with every boy. I don’t kiss girls I don’t like. And I sure as hell wouldn’t give her all my earnings.”

Debbie stared at him uncertain. “I’m not Kathy.”

Matteo let go a deep chuckle. “So, what. I’m not Carmelo. A girl like you needs more than puppy love. You need a protector. A real man.”

Debbie rolled her eyes and turned away. “Well, if you want to be my boyfriend…”

“I am your boyfriend,” Matteo announced.

“I mean it. If you want to be my boyfriend, you got to earn it. I’m not that kind of girl, okay? You got to treat me special. And that don’t mean money,” she said and started eating her salad.

“You a virgin?” Matteo narrowed his eyes on her.

Debbie cut him a side glances. “I am. So don’t even think about it.”

Matteo laughed. He grinned. “What is it I got to do?”

“I told you. Make me feel special,” Debbie shrugged and slurped her Pepsi-Cola.

Matteo slouched back and stared straight ahead. “Sure. I can do that. We can go to the show today. I know a theater that would be cool. Make you feel special and safe. Cause nobody fucks with me. Okay.”

“Oh brother,” she sighed. “I am not going to do that. We could get in real trouble if we try?—”

“You. My. Girl.”The command hung between them, velvet over steel. “That makes you special. Not just to the world. But to me. And whatever you want or need Debbie, you got it.”

“Why?” she asked.

“What do you mean why?” he asked.

“A day ago, you weren’t even thinking about me. You got angry when you saw me at Esposito. Pushed me out of the house like I didn’t belong there,” she said and pushed her frozen soda aside.

“È questo che pensi davvero?Is that what you really think?” Matteo asked, genuine surprise crossing his features.

“It’s what happened,” she said, turning fully now to look him straight in the eyes.

“That’s not what happened, Debbie,” Matteo stammered.

“And in the alley. By that fabric shop you brag about. You called me names. Threatened me. Made me scared of you for a week,” she said, and lowered her gaze.

“Debbie—”

“I only came here because you needed a friend,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because I do like you, Matteo. And when you attacked that boy, I felt sorry for you. But I know exactly who you are and how boys like you think about girls outside your own community. I’m not here for you to have a good time or play games.”

“Madon, you’re right about me. I am a scoundrel who needs a lesson, a good girl to teach me a lesson,” he said. Matteo reached out gently, cupping her cheek and turning her face carefully back to him.

“When I saw you in the alley,ero terrorizzato—I was afraid, Debbie. Not for me, for you. I killed a man that night. And I knew our families could tear each other apart again. I wanted to scare you off—not because I hated you, butperché avevo paura per te—I was scared for you.Dio mio, what if I hadn’t been there? What would have happened to you then?”

“You’re not listening. You hurt my feelings!”

Matteo took a breath, struggling to express himself. “Cara, please listen to me. When I saw you at Tony’s house,sì, ero arrabbiato—I was angry. Furious. You could never be mine. But you damn sure didn’t belong as Tony’s mother’s servant. I wasn’t angry at you. I was angry at myself, at my father, my life, my world.Perché volevo proteggerti—I just wanted to protect you. I swear it on my soul. I wanted to help you, protect you.”

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