On me.
I didn’t even watch violent movies, I’d just panicked and said the first thing that popped into my head!
And I was about to go to the theater with a guy who probably showered in blood on a daily basis and by the looks of it — got off on it.
Shivering, I forced myself to take a deep breath and wrapped my jacket tighter around my body.
That was the thing about men like Sergio, or maybe just loyalty in general. He’d promised he would keep me safe, but I wondered if that promise was only extended until I was more trouble than I was worth.
I was safe, not because of what I was to him.
But because of who my dad had been to him.
I was nothing.
And yet, a part of me still yearned to be… something.
Anything really.
Pathetic.
“Change your mind?” Sergio’s smooth voice interrupted my thoughts. He was the type of man you felt even when he wasn’t speaking. His presence was impossible to ignore, kind of like his ridiculous good looks.
Weren’t mafia guys supposed to be old?
Fat?
Chain smokers who bought Cuban cigars and sat behind large desks while counting money and ordering hits on people who pissed them off?
“No.” I finally found my voice. “I was just thinking….”
“About?” His hand touched my back, ushering me forward, but not pushing, almost as if he was giving me the option of still saying no.
I increased my pace so that I couldn’t feel the warmth of his fingertips. “Popcorn.” I turned and winked, hoping it would hide the fact that my body was shaking.
Maybe I was the crazy one.
Because he was armed.
The man was armed.
And he had no qualms about pointing his weapon at me whenever I got too close.
Huh, we’d have a happy marriage.
I guess we’d never argue, since I liked living.
And, you know, breathing.
It would suck not to make my twenty-first birthday because I didn’t fold the towels just right.
And again, I froze.
Was he that neurotic? Or was it just the closeness?
“On a scale of one to ten…” I was proud of the way I kept the shaking out of my voice. Why was I so scared? Oh right, because he’d pointed a gun, no, shoved a freaking gun into my stomach and done it with a smile on his face. “How OCD are you?”
An easy laugh escaped him as he glanced around the movie theater lobby and then back at me. “What makes you think I’m OCD?”
“Things.” I gulped then forced a smile that I didn’t feel. How was I supposed to go through an entire movie knowing he was one uncomfortable conversation away from losing it? “So?”
“What can I get you?” A teen boy looked at Sergio then smiled wider when his eyes fell to me.
Immediately, Sergio wrapped a protective arm around me, basically forcing my body to curve into his warmth. “My wife and I will have two buckets of popcorn, two packs of Sour Patch Kids, and a bottled water.”
I didn’t correct him about the water.
“Wait.” Sergio held up his hand. “Sorry, Dr. Pepper mixed with Coke.”
The teen scrunched up his face then rung us up. His eyes fell to me again then back at the register, like he was trying not to look but couldn’t help it, which was comical, since I didn’t really think I was anything to look at.
When he handed Sergio back his change I could have sworn I heard a growl from my “husband.”
As it was, he jerked the candy so hard out of the kid’s hands that I was surprised he didn’t do a front flip over the counter.
“He’s a boy,” I whispered under my breath. “No need to shoot him too.”
Sergio glanced down at me, muttered a curse. “He was staring.”
“He looked about one science project away from solving world hunger via his mom’s basement… hardly the type of guy that I’d date.”
“Date?” Sergio said it so loudly the people in front of us waiting to show the attendant their tickets jumped and then turned around. “What the hell do you mean date?”
Crap. I’d messed up again.
My palms went sweaty while my face felt numb with fear. Regardless of how pretty he was to look at — I was finally fully aware of how dangerous he was to me.
To everyone around me.
Sweat trickled down my lower back as I gulped down more soda and shrugged. “I just mean, he’s not my type.”
“No shit he isn’t, because you don’t get a type anymore.”
“Right.” I licked my lower lip, pretending not to be scared, pretending to be the brave person I wasn’t was wearing on me.
By the time we made it into the theater I was dizzy.
It was too much all at once.
“So…” Sergio’s voice was in my ear. I jumped a foot. He frowned as if he couldn’t figure out why I’d be so jumpy. “Dante sits behind you, right?”