Page 56 of Forbidden Eyes

“Yeah, guess I do.” Stupidly.

“Okay.”

I listen to her breathing on the end of the phone, a smile crawling up my face as I keep wandering without direction. Up the dirty alley. Back down it. My high-end shoes slowly landing on gritty streets and filthy floors. There’s a fucking metaphor for my life in that shit somewhere. I pick up the blade I flung away, wiping my prints from the handle, and then reach for the wad of dollars I threw. “If you come here, though, Fia, it’s only going to make things worse with your father ’cause that line I was trying not to cross? We'll be crossing it. You don’t get a redo on this choice, understand? All in.”

The silence carries on for a minute or two as she processes that thought, and I stare at the guy still spitting up blood. It’s true. I’ll be all in, no fucks given for what her father wants to do to me. I’ll damn well make it count for as long as we have. All night. All the next fucking day, too. She won’t be able to move for a week after I’ve finished with that virgin body.

Not that she knows that yet.

There’s still silence on the line when I’ve finished imagining all the fucked up positions I can get her into. Maybe she’s waiting for some romantic words to help her decide. They’re not coming. I wouldn’t know true romance if it slapped me in the face.

I wait, echoing her silence and giving her room to decide on her own. This isn’t romantic. It’s just an inevitability now, and something she needs to accept. I’m offering nothing but giving in to the lust that’s damn near intolerable between us. I wouldn’t damn well know how to be romantic even if I wanted to.

I kick the guy in the head, pissed that he's in my way.

Jesus.

“I’m on my way.”

Good girl. “Call me when you land. I’ll meet you at the airport.” I hang up and trudge the alley again, still unsure what the fuck I’m doing. Logical thinking should have me calling Quinn and getting my ass back to Chicago. It’s not that I need him, but I do need to tell him. If I front up to her father without at least telling him I’m doing it, all hell’s gonna break loose between Vico and Cane, and that isn’t good for anyone’s business, let alone their well-being. I look at the phone in my hand, ready to get the conversation done so I can get on with the only plan I’ve got—Sofia Vico. It’s a screwed-up plan, but if my life’s gonna end, I’m taking whatever last piece of decency I can get before it does.

* * *

The tannoy announced the plane’s arrival over half an hour ago, and I’ve been pacing this lobby ever since. Waiting. Just about everyone else off the flight has gone past me, some of them jumping into the arms of loved ones, all smiles and beams of happiness. I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do when she gets here.

If she gets here.

I check my watch again, wondering if maybe she’s changed her mind. She sent me the flight details and said she’d call when she landed. She hasn’t. I wouldn’t blame her if she’s thought better of it. Getting up in her father’s face about his business is one thing; purposely pissing him off by jumping on a plane to be with me is entirely another.

I hover, my hands shaking slightly in my pockets. It's not a need for food, this time. I'm nervous. Interesting fucking problem to deal with. Can’t remember the last time I was nervous of anything. I look down towards my dick, wondering if it’ll decide to cooperate with the plan this time regardless of nerves. It twitches, apparently happy with the thought of anything to do with Sofia Vico.

Shame she’s not damn well here.

My lips huff out a ragged breath, and I gaze up to the gate again, willing her through the doors. Still, she doesn’t appear, and as the flight crew begin walking down towards me, I nod my head and smile. Fair enough. She’s not coming. Sensible. It’s what a Vico head would do. And it’s what she should do. Staying away from me is right for all concerned. It’s right for Cane. Right for the two families. And right for her. I mean, what the fuck would someone like her need from someone like me anyway? She’s destined for greater things. Good things. Decent things. Great, good and decent are three things I’m not. Haven’t been for a long ass time.

I turn and start heading for the exit, grabbing my phone out to call Quinn before I book my own flight to New York. I didn't do it earlier, too pissed at the thought of his disappointment again, but whatever happens now, Vico will want his answers, as well as my head on a spike. To save the families going to war, I’ll go take whatever he deems appropriate. This was all me. It’s on me, and I won’t have him make anyone’s life but mine hell because of it.

“Carter?” Fuck.

My body freezes, then slowly turns at the sound of her voice, my fucking hands shaking again. She’s standing there like a beacon of light, an angel even, radiant and sweet before the execution that’s coming for me. It’s what the condemned must feel like when that last fucking meal is brought to them. Ravenous. Thankful. Humbled. I stare, nearly fucking drooling as she bites the end of her thumbnail and shrugs her bag closer to her.

“I wasn’t sure. I watched you waiting for me,” she says, taking a small step forward. “I waited back there, not sure if this was right or if it will make things worse. I’m so sorry.”

I make my way back towards her, nodding. I know that feeling. I’ve known it since the first time I saw her. And I certainly know it now she’s offering herself to me.

“This isn’t your fault. Right now, I don’t give a damn about right and wrong.” My hand snatches her waist to me, one sharp tug to get her where I need her. “I just don’t care anymore.” Close. No fucking distance between us. None. Not until I’ve had my fill and she can’t walk. “Last chance to run, Sofia.”

Her entire body trembles in my hold, including the lips I’m looking at. I draw my gaze up to her eyes, looking for consent or objection. I need something from her, some words to make this the right thing to do. “Tell me you want me or go get your sexy ass back on that plane.”

One second. Two. Three.

Fucking seconds feel like hours as she makes her decisions.

“I want everything from you. With you.”

Good girl.

Sixteen

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