Bitter Pledge (Falsone Crime Family)

I hurried into the back again and leaned up against the wall by the employees’ bathroom, hands shaking. I wasn’t sure if I was freaking out from Manzi manhandling me, or if I was trembling from the intensity of Roman’s attention.

“What the hell happened out there?” I turned as Winter stormed over looking outraged. She was a few inches taller with dark auburn hair and the kind of curves that made most women jealous. Including me. And I knew for a fact that her idea of working out was walking to Wawa to buy three Snickers bars and a cheese-filled pretzel.

Whereas I went for a five-mile run most mornings just to stay in shape. And to quiet the little voice in my skull that kept wanting to go over the same old mistakes from my past, again and again and again.

Mostly to stay in shape, though.

“Did that fucking guy grab you? Jack just told me—”

“It’s okay, seriously,” I said quickly, holding up my hands to try to keep her from exploding. “One of the other guests helped me out.”

Winter let out a sharp huff and slammed herself against the wall next to me. “That motherfucker. Did you see the way he was talking to that girl he had with him? If I were her, I’d stab him in the eye with a fork.”

“I totally believe it. I sort of have the feeling she’s tried that, though. You should’ve heard what she said to him in Spanish as they left.”

“Yeah? Good, I hope she makes him feel like a real piece of shit.” Winter’s expression softened. She was a few years older and lived in the apartment unit below mine. We rented from this nice old lady named June who was happy to lose out on a little extra cash in the summer to have a couple of full-time, dependable tenants. “You’re too passive sometimes, you know.”

“Hey, don’t make me feel bad. I wasn’t the one being a dick.”

She smoothed her hair over her shoulder. “Fair enough. I just want to see you stick up for yourself, you know?”

I forced a smile. “You do the sticking up for both of us.”

“Damn right I do. Any guy talks to my girl like that, I knee him in the balls. No questions asked.”

“Pretty sure that’s not true, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

She gave me a stern look. “You ever need a pair of nuts kicked, you find me. I love you, girl.”

“Love you too.”

She patted my wrist. “Jack says take your time and come back out when you’re ready. I’m gonna go scope out the room and make sure that asshole’s definitely gone.” She pushed off the wall and hesitated. “You sure you’re okay? You look a little flushed.”

I stared down at my feet, thinking about Roman’s ice-blue eyes and the way his lips curled as his gaze traveled down my body—it was strange, like he was both appraising me and unable to look away.

“I’m fine. Really.”

“All right. Take your time. I’ll be back in a bit.” She waved and marched back off toward the banquet hall.

I leaned my head against the wall and took a few more calming breaths, trying to remember that meditation exercise I’d learned on YouTube. The guy with the very soothing British accent called it a body scan or something like that. I started at the very top of my head and imagined the focus of my attention slowly moving down, from the tip of my skull to the points of my toes, pausing to focus on each muscle, each inch of skin.

By the end of it, I almost felt better.

Except then the image of Roman’s hands following that exact same pattern, touching all of me, from my lips down to my breasts down to the soaking wet heat between my legs sent me into another stupid dizzy tailspin and I decided I had to get some fresh air.

I grabbed my jacket from the break room, headed through the kitchen, waved to Chef José, then shoved out the back. The Stone Harbor Club was a little private events space right on the edge of the bay, and the seaweed stench rolled up from beneath the wooden pier that surrounded the building. I walked over toward the railing overlooking the water and stared out at the gently lapping tide, the marsh grasses waving in the wind. I pulled my jacket tighter for warmth and let out big plumes of white breath, trying not to think about that man again, about that Roman.

It was like he wiped away the darkness of the moment with Manzi. For one second, I felt utter fear, the sort of chest-constricting terror I hadn’t experienced in a very long time. I was sure Manzi would do something horrible if given the chance, and I couldn’t tell if a room full of men would stop him.