“Grazie,” Otto said and disappeared through the garage door.
Antonio took my hand, and I got out of the car.
“Contessa,” Antonio said softly, his face deeply shadowed in the artificial light.
“Yes, Capo?”
He pushed me against the car. “I told you not to see him.”
“He slapped Katrina around. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t wait for you to take care of it.”
“And did you take care of it?” His hands moved up my rib cage, thumbs tucking under my breasts.
I looked down. “Not really. He won’t take prepayment. He made threats.”
He held my face in one hand, a little too tight, to make me look him in the eye. “He threatened you?”
“He threatened Katrina.” I pushed him off me. “I want to go home. My God, how did I let myself get stuck here?”
I pushed him hard, and he stepped back. Having gotten out from under him, I walked to the open gate. I didn’t know where I was going. I guessed I’d have to call a cab. I could wait for it in the pupuseria down the street, but I knew he wouldn’t let me go. I still wanted the freedom of that open gate and that dark street and those empty sidewalks. I heard him one step behind me, then he grabbed my forearm.
I twisted and yanked away. “Stop!”
His gaze was dark and unreadable for the second I saw him. He shifted, a blur in my vision, then he became a force of movement against me. He picked me up at the waist and carried me over his shoulder. I would have screamed, but he’d knocked the breath out of me. All I could do was watch the light shift on the blacktop as he carried me across it.
I pounded his back, but I was helpless. “Antonio!”
“Be quiet.”
“Stop!”
“Basta, woman.” He avoided the garage where Otto had gone and opened the door to the dark office without breaking his stride, passing the water cooler and the reception desk. He smacked open his office door then slammed it closed with his foot.
With a lung-emptying thud, I was dumped into a chair. He leaned over me, so threatening and powerful that if he demanded it, I’d have told him the sky was beneath my feet.
“Listen to me,” he growled, putting his hands on the chair arms. “I will kill any bastard who touches you. So you walk into a room like that again without me, you’d better want the man dead.”
He meant it. From the tightness in his lips and the lines in his brow, I knew he wasn’t speaking metaphorically. He’d kill for me, and it would be my responsibility.
“I’ll admit I was scared, and you were the first person I thought of,” I said. “And the last person. But in between that, I was afraid of getting you involved.”
“You’re involved. I’m involved. We can’t go backward now. You said you saw that stupid punk face to face, and I went crazy. I saw you with that other ass, the one who cheated on you, and I went crazy. I don’t have a brain when it comes to you. You know how much trouble it could be for me if I get arrested for something stupid? Like beating that guy with the ugly Porsche? But I thought he kicked you, and I lost my mind.”
“You didn’t even know me.”
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “When I was a young, they called me Tonio-botz because I’d go off over nothing. But I’m a man now, and I don’t do that. Tonio-botz was a garbage kid who had no control over himself. But he’s back every time I see you.”
I was scared of him, for him, about him. I was also turned on. I touched his face. “I bet he wasn’t so bad.”
“Please understand.”
“I do. Would you kiss me?”
With breakneck speed and intensity, he kissed me, using his tongue without prelude as if it was a dick shoved in me. I leaned up and he knelt back until we were both on the floor.
“Here.” I pulled his wrist and slid his hand between my legs. “Feel how wet I am.” I pressed his hand under my skirt to my damp panties, moving until his pinkie touched my soaking skin. “It’s never been this easy, and it’s you. This is how I react to you. It terrifies me.”
He sucked air through his teeth. “We’re even then, Contessa.”
“Take me now, please. Fuck me scared.”
He slipped two fingers in me all the way, pressing as if he wanted to get his whole hand in, and I spread my legs as if I wanted exactly the same thing. He put his face to mine until he took up the curves of my vision. His breath fell on my open mouth as he watched me react to his touch.
“I want to fuck you so hard we have the same skin.”
“Yes,” I gasped, reaching for his belt.
A knock came at the door. “Spin? You in there?”
“Fuck,” he grumbled, then shouted to the door. “What, Zo?”
“Uh, sorry, but uh, we got word from Donna Maria. And you said—”
“All right.” He removed his fingers from me.
Zo didn’t get the message. “You said if we heard from her that—”
“Zo! Basta! I’ll see you inside.” He straightened my panties and skirt. “I’m sorry, Contessa. Business calls. You and I will share a skin later.”
“Can Otto drive me home?”
“I’m sorry, but you’re not going home tonight. I’ll have one of the guys go to your house and pack you a bag. But until I take care of Scott Mabat, you’re staying at my side.” He stood, erection apparent under his pants.
I was still splayed on the floor. “Antonio, really?”
“Really. It’s like the kids’ shows. When the song comes, the bouncing ball tells you when to sing the words.” He put his hand out to help me up. “Just follow along.”
We crossed the parking lot holding hands, and when we went into the pitch dark garage, he squeezed my hand. I heard men talking and a thup thup sound.
“Follow along,” he said and opened a door in the back.
In a low room decorated in wood paneling and cigarette smoke, a handful of men faced the same direction. Zo crooked his arm and straightened it quickly. A thup followed, and the others reacted by exchanging handslaps and cash.
Darts.
An Italian flag draped one wall. The chairs were wooden and well worn, like the desk and linoleum floor. I recognized a man in a fedora from outside Zia’s restaurant. Silence fell on the room like a lead curtain.
Antonio kissed me on both cheeks, left first, then right. He stared me in the face for a second before facing his crew. “Signori, this is Theresa. Theresa, you’ve met Lorenzo.”
Zo came up to me as if for the first time and took my hand. “Piacere.” He kissed me on each cheek, right then left, and stepped back.
“Otto, you’re still here?” Antonio said.
He stepped forward and took my hand. “Piacere di conoscerla.” He kissed me the same way, left then right.
“Good to meet you,” I said.
“Now go home,” Antonio said. He indicated a man in a checked jacket and receding hairline. “Enzo, meet Theresa.”
“Very nice to meet you,” he said in a clean California accent I wouldn’t have noticed in any other group.
“You, as well.” I counted three more. Fedora was next.
“Niccoló, this is Theresa.”
“Piacere.” He kissed me quickly, in the middle of counting a stack of bills, as if the whole process was inconvenient.
“Nice to meet you, too.”
“Last, Simone, I’d like you to meet Theresa.”
“Good to meet you!” The only blond in the crew, he shook my hand like a car salesman and smiled big, only kissing each cheek when Antonio shot him a look. He did it right then left, and the mix-up meant we almost kissed on the lips. He laughed.