Twisted Loyalties (The Camorra Chronicles 1)

Business was slow that evening. Most customers had lost considerable amounts of money the night before during the big fight, and stayed away from the bar. I wouldn’t have minded a busy day, as it would have distracted me from my wandering thoughts. When I walked past a table occupied with two older men who’d been drinking the same beer for almost one hour, I overheard a snippet of their conversation that caught my attention.

“Killed him. Just like that. Twisted his head, broke his neck. But the old guy knew what was coming. Shouldn’t have tried to run away without paying his debt. Falcone don’t like that. I always pay. Even if it means no food for days. Better hungry than dead.”

“You got it,” rasped the other man, then fell into a coughing fit. I busied myself wiping the table next to them, hoping to find out who had broken someone’s neck. The mere idea sent a shiver down my back. Sadly, the men seemed to have caught on to my presence and switched their conversation to the upcoming fights. Had Fabiano been the one to kill a man?

When I left the bar at quarter after two that night, Fabiano’s car was parked in front of the entrance.

I froze mid-step, half hoping it was a coincidence. He shoved open the passenger door. “Get in. Can’t let you walk on your own at night.”

At a look at his handsome face, I wasn’t sure I could end things between us. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. People had seldom kept the promises they’d given to me. I’d learned to expect disappointment, but here he was keeping his promise to protect me. The first time in my life there was someone who could protect me. My mother had never been capable of it. Not against her own mood shifts, not against the beatings of her disgusting boyfriends, not against the insults hurtled at me by other kids.

Fabiano was dangerous. He wasn’t someone to stay close to. But the idea that for the first time in my life there was someone who could keep me safe was too enticing.

I’d caught her hesitation when she’d spotted me. Like a mouse in front of the trap, torn between tasting the cheese and running off.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, arms wrapped around her old backpack as if she needed another barrier between us.

“I told you I would protect you, and that’s what I’m doing. I don’t want you to walk around at night alone.”

She stared out of the passenger window, hiding her face in the shadows. My grip on the steering wheel tightened. “You can’t drive me home every night. I’m sure you’ve got work to do.”

Her lips pinched, and her fingers dug into her backpack. What had she heard? There were always rumors about me. The worst were usually true.

“Don’t worry. I can make time for important things.”

The Camorra was important. Remo and his brothers were important. She wasn’t supposed to be.

She turned, brows furrowing. “Important? Am I?”

She wasn’t. She was…I wasn’t sure what she was to me. I kept thinking about her when she wasn’t around. About those damn freckles, and those shy smiles. About how she was alone, had been alone even when she’d still lived with her mother. I knew how it was to be alone while being in a house with other people. My father. His second wife. The maids.

I ignored her question. “If I’m not in the parking lot after work, then wait in the bar for me until I pick you up.”

“I’m not in kindergarten. I don’t need someone to pick me up. Not even you, Fabiano. There’s no reason for you to do this. I can protect myself.”

I pulled up in her street.

Once I’d shut off the engine, I turned to her. “How?”

“I just can,” she said defensively.

I nodded toward her backpack. “With what’s in there.”

“How do you…” Her eyes widened a fraction before she caught herself. “It’s my problem, isn’t it?”

“It was before. Now it is mine. I don’t like the idea of someone getting their filthy hands on you.”

She shook her head. “We’re not together, are we? So I can’t see how it’s your business.”

I leaned over but she backed up against the passenger door. So that’s how it was going to be? “The kiss we shared means it is my business.”

“We won’t kiss again,” she said firmly, determinedly.

I smirked. “We’ll see.” I knew she was attracted to me. I’d sensed how strongly the kiss had affected her, how her eyes had dilated with lust. Perhaps her mind was telling her to stay away but her body wanted to get much closer, and I would make her give in to that desire. Even now, as I leaned close to her, I could see the conflict in her body language. The way her eyes darted to my lips and her fingers clutched her backpack at the same time.