Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
When she vehemently shakes her head, I sigh in relief. “Oh, thank God. So, you’re not suicidal?”
It’s rare my mother is cognizant enough to know who I am, let alone anything else. But when she does, I take full advantage of the opportunity. “Okay, here goes nothing… We live in Boston,” I begin.
Do we? Do I? Is this one of the many times I’ll pull up roots and fly, or… can I make peace with Adriano?
Can I love a man who’s obsessed with me? Can I love a man as intense as the burning sun? Will I survive?
Or will I rise from the ashes, a new person?
I can tell by the childlike grin on her face she loves this.
“I mean,” I say, stroking the top of her hand with my thumb, “I could tell you the whole story if you want to hear it…”
Her eager nod spurs me on. I brush and braid her hair while I tell her everything, minus the sex club, weapons, murders, and mafia, of course.
It’s, uh, a much shorter story.
But it’s still got all the juicy Hallmark moments moms of all types love to hear about their daughters’ love lives. When I finish, she beams. She cannot speak but the look she gives me… it’s like she’s proud of me or something… Oh. My. God. She is proud of me—my Mom is proud of me. Crazy, broken little Quinn! It’s almost too much to bear, the love I feel from her right now, a love that in a single moment makes up for all the years of not having a mother in my life.
I rise and bend to kiss her cheek. For the first time ever…I’m torn. “When I come back to visit you, I’ll bring you cannoli and pictures of my friends.” Now that I have a place I call home, and people who love me, I don’t like the thought of leaving her.
I need to know where Adriano and I stand.
Her eyes are closed and she’s in a peaceful sleep when I leave her. Adriano sits as promised, in a chair in the hallway, casually sipping a cup of coffee in a cardboard cup.
“Visiting hours are over,” a nurse says tentatively, her gaze fixed on Adriano. “But if you need more time—”
I shake my head. “I’m done, thank you.”
We walk in silence outside like normal people, even though today’s double feature of events was anything but normal. I wonder if he’ll reach for my hand, but at the same time…I’m not sure I want him to.
Oh but I do, I so do want him to.
I want the warm reassurance of his touch. I want to hear him call me “baby” and tell me that everything that I feared didn’t just happen, that he hasn’t crossed a line with me that’s a hard limit.
“Did you drive here?” I fiddle with a lock of my hair because I don’t know where we stand. I don’t even know where I want us to stand.
“Yeah.” He takes a set of keys out of his pocket and beeps the key fob. The lights on my car illuminate the night sky.
“You took my car?” My brows draw together with curiosity. He has an arsenal of cars and drivers at his disposal. “Why?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute.”
I draw in a deep breath and gather my patience. “There’s a lot of waiting on you to tell me things, Adriano.”
Turning to me, he slides his hands in his pockets. “There is. But not everything is mine to tell.”
“No excuses. I’ve seen you take Sergio on and win. So yeah, he might outrank you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t fight for what’s yours.”
“Oh, believe me when I tell you, I plan on fighting for what’s mine.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“INEVITABLE”
Adriano
Quinn stares at me, half-challenging, half-daring me. She’s let her guard down, allowed me in, and now I’m asking her to do it all over again.
I get it. I don’t go all vulnerable easily either.
I watch her slide into the driver’s seat and fasten her seat belt.
Good girl.
She takes a minute to adjust the air conditioner, the radio, and her seat, as if we’re heading out on a little joyride.
Fuck me.
We don’t talk for the first few minutes of our drive. I don’t want to distract her, and we have a lot of ground to cover. “I took this car because it’s armored. And I took it so in case you decide to stay, at least you’ll have a car.”
She doesn’t reply.
At the second set of lights in Small Town America, her stomach audibly growls.
“When was the last time you ate, babygirl?”
With a sigh, she shrugs. “It was a while ago.”
Quinn loves her food and has a hearty appetite. She’s been worried. Troubled. Fuck it.
“Pull in here.” I point to a small diner that looks like it was built in a tin can, neon lights announcing Open Twenty-Four Hours.