Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles 5)

“I’d like another beer, young lady.”

I nodded quickly and headed toward the fridge, still ducking my head. I needed to get out of here really quickly. I bent over the fridge as if I needed to get a closer look, hoping that Toni would figure out a way to save the day. Maybe she could throw them out for breaking some house rule.

“I must have gone to Heaven, because this ass isn’t from Earth,” drawled a very familiar voice.

I was so dead, so very, very dead. If Diego was with Savio, I’d be grounded for eternity. I could already hear Nonna’s disapproving cluck and see Dad’s I’m very disappointed in you look. Mom would probably even shed a few very heart-broken tears.

Maybe I could just stay bent over like this until he lost interest and left? Then another thought hit me like a punch. Savio was hitting on me. Well, on my butt, but that was more than I had hoped for by now. Since our embarrassing first fight training, I’d toned down my crush, and in the last six months, I hadn’t seen him. Giddiness spread in me like a wildfire.

From the corner of my eyes, I could see him coming around the bar. “Just thinking of all the dirty things I could do with that ass makes my—”

I straightened and whirled on him. “Don’t finish that sentence!”

Savio’s expression flashed with shock. Slowly his eyes dragged down my body, lingering on my hips, my stomach, my breasts until he finally looked at my face again—my undoubtedly bright red face. It felt impossibly hot and that wasn’t because of the sticky warm air in the bar.

His expression transformed into anger, which stunned me. I’d expected a joke and teasing like so often in the past. “What the hell are you doing here? Dressed like that?”

I frowned at his demanding tone. He sounded like Diego, as if what I did was his business. Luckily, my brother wasn’t with him, nor was Mick, even though the latter usually defended me when Diego treated me like a stupid kid. A quick scan of the bar didn’t give me any clues about their whereabouts either.

“How does one get a beer around here?” an older man muttered.

“I could shove a bottle down your fucking throat, how about that?” Savio snarled. One look at Savio’s face and the man scurried away.

“I’m supposed to serve beer—”

Savio grabbed my forearm and dragged me away from the bar. Taken by surprise, I stumbled after him. “Savio, what are you doing?”

His grip was like steel, impossible to escape from. He didn’t stop until we were in one of the backrooms and he’d thrown the door shut. Then he got in my face. “Explain.”

I blinked up at him, completely taken aback by his dominant demeanor. I’d never seen him like this: his eyes dark with anger and something else I couldn’t decipher, his jaw clenched so tightly I was surprised it didn’t break and his body brimming with barely restrained violence. Without thinking, I took a step back only to bump into the wall.

I turned my face away, flushing. “Please don’t tell my parents.”

“Why should I do that, Kitty?” I asked in a low voice, anger still pulsing in my body. I wasn’t even sure where it had come from. Diego was the protective hypocrite when it came to his sister. I was the one making fun of him for protecting her virtue like a fucking knight in shining armor.

“Because we’re friends?” she asked hopefully, those dark green eyes meeting mine. Plump lips parted, high cheekbones flushed. When had Kitty become this awfully pretty?

My feelings definitely weren’t friendly. Fuck, I had hit on Gemma. If Diego knew, he’d have a coronary. I narrowed my eyes and leaned down until we were at eye level. “First I want you to answer my question. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be a good little choir girl and get a good night of sleep before church tomorrow morning? Or do you always spend your nights like this?”

Her cheeks turned even redder. “It was the first time I sneaked out, the first time I’m wearing something like this. And it wasn’t even my idea. I hate exposing myself like that because it makes me feel impure, but I wanted to help Toni.” She tugged a strand behind her ear and just like that, she looked the choir girl again. A choir girl wrapped in the body of a goddamn sex bomb. How the fuck hadn’t I noticed those curves before? But it was easy to explain. Gemma usually wore very modest clothes and I hadn’t exactly seen her often in the last year. The Camorra took up too much of my time with Adamo being gone in New York, and my brothers busy with their wives and kids.