Page 35 of Runaway in the Mafia
How the hell was I to avoid this man when he stalked me closer than my shadow?
Defeat weighed me down. I stood on the threshold. Sad. Angry. Frustrated. I could storm in and confront him. The Adonis on my bed.Who was I kidding? I took a step back.
“Close the fucking door, Ahana.”
I really, really did not like a man telling me what to do.
So why then did I step inside and close the door behind me? To confront him, of course.
“How did you get inside my room?”
A thin, almost angry laugh escaped him. “Well, it wasn’t through a window.”
“Then how—”
“Keys,mia ammaliatrice.You know, like the little brass thing clutched in your hand.”
The wheels in my head turned. “So you got yourself a spare key, or did you just steal mine and copy it?”
His gaze picked up off the floor and found mine. Frustration rumbled underneath it. “Does it really matter?”
“No. I suppose not.” My gaze shifted to the window and the sudden gloominess outside. It matched my mood to perfection. “To think I thought you were being nice.”
“Oh, I’m being nice. This is as fucking nice as I get.”
“Really?” I bit. “What’s worse than this?”
“You have no fucking idea.” His head dropped to the floor. As if he were trying to control his reaction. “I want to turn you inside out and find what you are hiding. I am asking you nicely. What the fuck are you hiding, Ahana?”
“Why would I tell you?”
“Because I am asking. Nicely?”
I huffed out a laugh. He looked up, and his eyes were melancholic. The sound in my throat froze. My chest squeezed, and I didn’t even know why. “How about you want to?” he said softly. His tone almost vulnerable.
“No.”I can’t.
“I could help you.”
I shook my head vigorously. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”
“For fuck’s sake.” He jerked up and stood tall. He was volatile. Agitation running through him like a thunderbolt. “Tell me what the fuck you are hiding.”
I shook my head slowly.
“Who were you calling?” His hand fisted in his pockets.
What?“I wasn’t—”
“Today. In the park. On the bench.”He’d seen me?My lips wobbled. I couldn’t fight the shock off my face. “One last time.” He took a step, and I backed up. He paced forward. With each slow step, a word thundered out. “Who. Were. You. Calling?” My shoulder blades hit the wall. He was three feet away from me. He was visibly rumbling with rage. My entire body felt like a rush of hives had struck me. “Tell me the fuck now or—”
“Or what? You’ll hit me?”
He laughed. Bitter and short. He glanced at the window like he was trying to rein in his rage. His jaw ticked. A vein popped on his forehead. Clearly, he had run out. Of patience. Then he shifted and took a sudden step towards me. I couldn’t help it. It was a reaction inbuilt. Martina told me we don’t even realise we have it. But once experienced, we couldn’t shed it. I squeezed against the wall, eyes shut down, hands shielding my face, and prepared for impact.
“Jesus.”
Terror drummed in my chest. Sweat pooled down my back. I was frozen in my position. I couldn’t move. Seconds ticked by, and nothing happened. I fought through my shield to feel nothing. My eyes flickered open to find his horror-filled gaze on mine, one hand fisted in his hair.
