"Is that why you prefer to drive yourself around?"
I nod, "And why I keep a gun on hand." I raise my shoulders, "No way, will I be so vulnerable again."
"And the riddles?"
"What about them?"
"What got you so dependent on them?"
I lean forward, squeezing the ring in my palm with such force that the emerald cuts into my skin. The soles of my feet burn; I press my heels into the ground. "I can’t talk about that," I straighten.
"Can’t or won’t?"
I rise to my feet, "Does it matter?’
"And the woman?" She asks.
I scowl. "It's not what you think it is." I stare into her face.
She scoffs. "You expect me to believe that?"
"Believe it..." I raise my shoulders, "or not."
She stiffens, "Is she your sister? Your cousin? Hell a blood relation of some kind?"
I shake my head.
"So who is she?" Her eyebrows knit.
"She's a... friend."
"A friend?" She glowers at me.
"Also a business associate." I crack my neck. "There's uh! Nothing between us."
"Fine, say I believe you." She wrings her fingers together, "What were you talking about with her?" She sets her jaw. "Why do you go running every time she calls?"
Shit, I'd done no wrong so why the hell am I feeling defensive?
I draw in a breath, "I can’t tell you. I told you, I won't put you in danger."
She throws up her hands. "And you want me to stay? When there are so many secrets between us?"
"When I make a promise, I keep it, Gigi. Unlike you."
She pales.
"Shit." I drag my fingers thought my hair, "I didn't mean it."
"Sure you did."
We glare at each. She's right. She brings out the worst in me. She makes me feel things I never have... She makes me hurt. Fuck! Why is this thing between us so complicated? Sweat trickles down my back. "You’re right." I glance away. "Whatever was between us, it’s over."
I turn to leave.
"And you say you love me?" she huffs.
I walk toward the exit.
"I can be a game, but there are no winners, what am I?" her voice stops me.
I pause, then because I can’t fucking resist, I answer, "Blame."
"What’s another name for Saint?" she asks.
I grip the door frame, "Don’t do this, Gigi."
"Answer me," she snarls.
I step through the doorway.
"Coward," her voice follows me out.
I freeze.
"You heard me," she huffs, "You don’t have the courage to face up to what’s between us."
"And you do?"
"Yes." She presses her hand to her belly, "Everything I am doing is out of love."
"For whom, Gigi? Everything you’re doing is to punish me."
"There are some things bigger than you and me."
"Like what? Lies? Betrayal? Your affliction for that…man who shot you? He’s taking advantage of you. He’s using you Gigi."
"So be it."
"He’ll never let your friend go."
"He will."
"It was all a farce. If you leave here, you’ll never be safe."
"We’ll see, shall we?" She sets her jaw.
I glare at her, "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"
"Why do you have to be so…blinded by your own ego?"
"It’s the only thing that’s kept me alive so far."
"What kind of living is it, if you can’t even come clean to your own wife?"
"Oh, so now you are my wife?" I thrust out my chest.
She throws up her hands, "Just leave Saint, please."
"I intend to." I turn to go, when the phone in my pocket vibrates. I slide it out of my pocket, see the message from an unknown number. I swipe open the screen, play the message. A video flickers to life.
A woman speaks into the screen, "This message is for Victoria." She swallows, "V? This is Nina. I am fine." She glances at someone off-screen. "Antonio has promised not to hurt me as long as no one comes after him." She firms her lips, stares at the screen, "I am fine V, really. Call off whoever is shadowing Antonio. He’ll take care of me." A smile curls her lips. "I believe him, V." She pauses, then adds, "Take care of yourself." The message switches off.
"What is it?"
I walk over to her, hand her the phone.
She glances at me, then back at the screen. I play the message for her. She pales, replays the message once again, then hands the phone back to me.
"You believe her?"
She nods. "No reason for Nina to lie."
"Yet, you kept the truth from me. Why didn't you tell me what the Mafia wanted from you?"
She pales.
"Why, Gigi?"
"Because…I had to protect you Saint. I couldn't...risk the Mafia finding out. What if they did something to you? I could have never lived with myself," she draws in a breath.
"You wanted to protect me?" I scowl.
"Why not?" She sets her jaw, "Is that so difficult to understand?"
"Yes," I growl, "because you don't get to put yourself in danger for me... You never get to endanger yourself for anyone else—especially not for me. I can take care of myself, you feel me, Gigi?"
"Oh, spare me the macho bullshit," she mutters.
The fuck is she talking about? Of course, I am macho. I was born this way... No excuses there. I can't stop myself from taking care of her, any more than I could stop myself from breathing. I glare at her; she glowers back. Stubborn woman.
Why can't she understand that if something were to happen to her I'd never survive it? Fuck. I rake my fingers through my hair. "You make me a little crazy, Gigi, you know that? You make me do things that I can’t explain. You fucking tie me up in knots, and that makes me desperate. It makes me miss things I didn’t know I wanted in the first place."
"Like?" She stares at me, "Like what?"
"Like, being married to you, for one. I had no idea that I needed you—your touch, a glance, the whisper of your voice to infiltrate the recesses of my mind."
"What else?" she whispers.
"I
