Page 16 of A Bond Beyond Blood

But now, an hour past our usual Friday night meeting time, when there was still no sign of her, I began to doubt myself.

I was also worried.

I didn’t know who she wanted to kill or why, but I did know that even with all the hours she’d spent in my gym, all the sparring and training in the world couldn’t prepare her toactuallygo head-to-head with a vampire.

Not unless he was already injured and damn near dead.

And I should have warned her.

I paced the empty gym, threw swings at the various punching bags hanging around the perimeter, but instead of working off this frustration, my muscles grew more rigid with each second that ticked by.She’d never missed an appointment and was annoyingly punctual.

Had I upset her so much by surprising her at her butcher shop?Did I cross a line?Had she decided not to return, to forgo her remaining sessions?

The way that thought caused my chest to tighten was disturbing, but I didn’t have time to analyze my feelings for her now.There were bigger things at play here, things she knew nothing about.Regardless of where I stood with Jacqueline Fiorino, she owed me money.

Money that I, in turn, owed Carmine.

When his goons showed up tomorrow morning to collect, as they did every Saturday, being short would cost me.Not my life—Carmine wasn’t stupid enough to let me off the hook that easily—but I had no doubt I’d suffer for the perceived slight against the Donati family.

As a young vampire, I hadn’t yet amassed my wealth, and as aRicci, I would long be burdened by my family’s debts.Until I could pay off Carmine and move the fuck away from the mess my grandfather created for his bloodline nearly a century ago, I was trapped here and indebted to the largest crime family to ever come out of Italy.

But even with my inherited debt a constantly looming shadow, and tomorrow’s weekly visit with Carmine’s henchmen to occupy my mind, all I could think about was Jacqueline.

I threw one last punch, knocking the punching bag clean off its hook and sending it soaring across the gym.I didn’t stay long enough to hear it hit the mat.In a flash, I was outside, running through the night toward the Fiorino family butcher shop across town.

When I reached the stairwell in the parking lot behind the shop, I stopped and stared up at the apartment above the store.

I’d been training Jacqueline for nearly a year now, and I had yet to step inside her home.And now, after that stupid stunt I pulled Wednesday night, any chance of doing so was likely ruined.

But I could try.

I took the stairs two at a time, stopping at her front door, my hand raised to knock.For the first time in years, I hesitated as an old, unwanted feeling came over me.

Doubt.

Would she be mad that I showed up here uninvited?Would she turn me away?

Soft whimpers came from inside the apartment and my body went rigid.I leaned forward and listened.

Somewhere within these four walls, Jacqueline was crying.

I pounded on the door.“Jacqueline?Open the door.”

The crying stopped and I tilted my head and listened to her footsteps as she approached the door.“Vinny?”

“What’s wrong?”I asked the useless piece of wood separating us.

She cursed under her breath and I smiled at the sound.God, I loved dirty words from her sweet mouth.The doorknob moved as she twisted it, then she opened the door and I was blessed with the sight of her.

I had little time to take her in, too aware of the circles under her eyes and the streaks of mascara trailing down over her cheeks to appreciate her bare legs beneath the nightshirt and open robe she wore.I scanned the apartment behind her, looking and listening for any signs that she wasn’t alone, then searched her eyes.“What happened?”

“Why are you here?”She sniffled, then swiped her fingertips over her cheeks, laughing bitterly when they came away streaked with black.“Oh, great.I must look amazing.”

She did.She always did.“Invite me in, Jacqueline.”

Her eyes flicked up to mine and her face went slack.After a painfully long moment, she whispered, “Why?”

“So I can hold you.”

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