Taking her to her father’s home was a whole different experience. The house was old and small. The neighborhood was complete shit and dangerous for a girl like Lake, but he saw her change. He could sense that she felt like she was home and safe, which was all that mattered to him. He didn’t judge her—or her father, for that matter—for not having much money.
It was hard for a man to be in the family yet not be in the family. All the good jobs and high-paying ones went to the men who were made—that was how it worked. The others bore a curse to be soldiers for life based solely upon the fact that they weren’t born with Italian blood. It was a harsh rule of the family as old as time, and the rules were hardly ever broken. Vincent’s whole existence was for the family; however, he wouldn’t ever want to be in Lake’s father’s shoes. To know he always wanted to be a family man but was forced to be at the bottom of the ranks would be Vincent’s worst nightmare.
Lake had been right. He couldn’t blame her father any more than he blamed himself for leaving her there that day months before and never once noticing through the years that something might have been wrong. He hadn’t a single clue until his gut had screamed at him that something was wrong that day. But I fucking left her, anyway.
She didn’t have to worry about him telling her father; he wasn’t going to. If he did, her father would have the pleasure of killing them, and he was going to make sure that satisfaction was all his.
Vincent looked down at Lake’s sleeping face. “He’s not coming home again, is he? He’s ashamed of me working in the casino.” A part of him had broken the moment those words had passed her lips. He had been so worried he would break her if they got together, but the thing was she was already broken. He was going to put her back together one piece at a time, and he was starting it by shoving away the darkness inside of him.
Lake needed his conscience to come back out. He couldn’t take her looking at him with fear ever again. She had been scared for too long, and he was going to do whatever it took from that moment on to make her happy, even if it meant losing a part of himself. He had cleared his memory of her months before, but right then he told himself it was time to start a new game.
‘We’re only friends, Vincent.’ He understood she needed a friend at that moment, so that was what he would be. Right up until that red-headed freak left, or he killed him first. Then he was going to make sure she understood they were no longer going to be just friends.
He wasn’t going to tell her about the fact that he had paid off her debt. It would only scare her to know she had to work because that creepy fucker had a thing for her. At least, that was what he was telling himself. The truth was she planned to not go off to college anymore, and a sick part of his mind didn’t want her to; therefore, he was afraid to tell her she didn’t have to work any longer, thinking she might leave him. He had a month to make her want to stay, and he was going to make damn sure she did.
He groaned when Lake wiggled closer to him, her ass rubbing against his dick.
Fuck, it’s going to be a long month.
*
Lake frowned when she woke up the next day to an empty bed, just as she had for the past month. She would never admit it, but she always hated how he was never there in the morning.
Going out of her bedroom and into the hall to go to the bathroom, she smelled something delicious. Mmmmm…
She quickly went into the small bathroom to refresh as fast as she could. Leaving after she spit out the last bit of toothpaste-laden water, she went into the tiny kitchen.
“Yes, my favorite—bacon and pancakes!” Her mouth practically watered when she saw the huge stack of jacks.
She went to grab some plates out of the cabinet to set on the table, but a hand reached out and grabbed her waist before she was brought against a hard, shirtless body.
“Go sit down. I’ll bring it to you.” He placed a kiss on top of her head.
Lake pushed back at his naked chest. “Stop it, Vincent. How many times have I told you I can help, too? I’m not a baby. And how many freaking times have I told you to put a shirt on?”
Vincent smiled wickedly before he let her go. “Why does it bother you so much?”
She went to sit down at the table, deciding to only answer him in her head. Because you’re perfect, and it kills me to look at you. That’s why.
She watched him set the food on the table along with the plates. Then he opened the ridiculously full refrigerator and poured them some orange juice. She scrutinized him when he started loading up his plate. He seems different.
He took a bite out of a slice of bacon. “Baby, as much as I enjoy you staring at me, you need to eat.”
Lake told her body to ignore the fact that she liked it when he called her that then wrinkled her nose at him. “Why do you seem so happy?”
“What, I can’t be fucking happy for once?”
She shook her head. “You’re never happy when I’m about to go to work, and you’ve made my favorite foods. I don’t know ... It just seems like you’re celebrating.”
He shrugged. “Well, it’s been a month since you started working. Just thought you deserved something special.”