I cock my head. “What move?”
“The whole dinner thing. Wearing the apron, sleeves rolled up, all that? I’m not going to lie, it’s sexy as hell, but it’s such a move.”
I laughed a little and watched her carefully. “You think I’m sexy.”
“I mean—”
“You really do,” I said as she blushed and sipped her wine. “It’s fine, I think you’re absolutely gorgeous. I wasn’t kidding when I told you what I want from you.”
“I get it,” she said, her cheeks crimson. “But you’re not answering my question.”
“I’ve never once cooked for another woman,” I said.
She laughed. “Liar.”
“I’m not lying,” I said and leaned toward her. “Do you really think I’m the kind of man to cook a girl dinner?”
She frowned at me for a moment. “You’re not, are you?” she whispered.
I smirked and shrugged. “No. I’m really not. You’re the first.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I already told you. You’re all mine right now.” I let that sink in before sitting back. “Besides, you needed it. Nothing like a good home-cooked meal to help bring someone back to the world.”
She glared at me. “I don’t need your help.”
“I know,” I said. “But I’m helping anyway.”
She took a few more bites, downed her wine, then pushed back from the table. “Thanks for the clothes and the food,” she said. She stood up and stared at me as I leaned back in my chair. “Are you staying here tonight?”
“I am,” I confirmed.
“Okay. Well. My door’s going to be locked. So… knock if you want something.”
I laughed softly and shook my head. “Little Aida… if I wanted to come into your room without your permission, do you really think a lock’s going to stop me?”
She bit her lip and stared at me before turning away. “Good night,” she said.
“Good night, little Aida.”
She walked away, and my eyes stared at her ass the whole time.
I let her go without a word and sighed before looking at my plate. I was only half finished, but alone again with my thoughts.
And my fucking worries.
I felt the world beginning to spiral. But I wasn’t lying to Aida. I’ve really never cooked for a woman before, and only did it now because I thought it would help her. And because I wanted to take her.
She was a delicious, perfect little distraction.
But with her sequestered back up in her room, I was left with dirty dishes and worries to keep me company.
So I finished my wine, filled up another glass, and got busy cleaning up.
4
Aida
Three days passed, and the only thing that kept me sane was my Kindle.
Dante visited me once, only briefly, in the afternoon of the second day. I think he was checking up on me, making sure that I was staying home and staying safe. He poked his head in my room, smiled at me sprawled on the bed, and laughed. “You look like you’re having fun,” he said.
“Too much fun,” I grumbled right back.
That was it. He left a few minutes later and I didn’t see him again. He left one of his young soldiers in charge of me, a guy named Gino that didn’t talk much. He had a scar on his lip and bright eyes, but he was skinny and almost a little shy. He always had a gun on him, although he didn’t show it off. I could see its lump in the waistband of his jeans, always there, always tucked away and ready for him.
I didn’t bother trying to talk to him. I suspected Dante ordered him to keep silent anyway, just based on the way he tiptoed around me like I was some kind of caged beast.
On the third day, I woke up early, took a shower, and went downstairs for coffee. Normally, Gino got the coffee set up for me and left at least half a pot in there. But that morning, I found the coffee maker was empty and the house was silent.
I snuck back upstairs and hesitated outside of the room I knew Gino was sleeping in. I pressed my ear against the door and smiled when I heard him snoring.
I couldn’t help myself. Another chance like this wasn’t going to come around anytime soon, so I crept into my room, pulled my sneakers on, dragged a hooded sweatshirt on even though it was too warm to wear it, and headed back downstairs. I was out into the early morning sunlight a few seconds later.
Dante’s house was perched up at the top of a hill with a long concrete staircase heading down to the sidewalk. I held onto the black railing, wondering how many times his hands had touched the same spot, as I hurried down and hit the sidewalk with a grin.
It felt damn good to be out of that house.
I knew it was stupid. As I walked along, taking deep breaths of the fresh air, I knew I should just turn back and go inside. Dante was keeping me indoors for fun, and he wasn’t forcing me into it. He wanted me to stay hidden so that I could stay safe.
But that was easier said than done.
Even with my laptop and my Kindle, I was bored out of my mind. It wasn’t my house, and I couldn’t get comfortable, not with that strange man Gino lurking around all the time. He watched reality TV most of the day, and when he wasn’t staring at the Housewives of Whatever, he was talking on the phone in Italian to someone. I could never hear the other side of the conversation, but it couldn’t have been interesting, just based on the way Gino would grunt in to the receiver then jabber off long, monotone phrases.
I sighed and kept going, stretching my arms. His neighborhood was quiet, and I only passed a couple of older folks with white hair and windbreakers walking little white yappy dogs.
Cars rolled past on the old gray street, and the yellow painted lines looked chipped and frayed,
