Page 27 of Renata Vitali (The Five Syndicates)
The beige leather of Damian’s Range Rover caressed my skin. Probably the only smooth thing about this car ride. My chipped nails fiddled with a stray white hair on my hoodie. Short. Coarse. Dog fur, maybe, except I obviously didn’t have a dog.
My eyes veered to the driver’s side. Damian’s hand rested on the steering wheel, his body posture casual. If it weren’t for his black eye and my frumpy attire, we’d look like a million-dollar car commercial.
I’d gotten used to his black eye. It even faded a bit. The girls in school gossiped about it. They talked in the halls about how much hotter it made him. The guys fist-bumped Damian’s shoulder whenever he passed, giving him props for the black eye as if the memory of how he’d gotten it didn’t still haunt me.
I didn’t know how people outside of school reacted, but judging by the horrified stares Damian received from the staff and faculty at Devils Ridge High, the De Luca members didn’t like the idea of Angelo beating their golden boy. It didn’t help that Damian did nothing to dispel the rumor that his father had hit him.
Once again, I examined the black eye, tried to stop the pure hatred for Angelo from consuming me, and had to confront the idea that I cared for Damian more than I’d like to admit.
“You’re staring at me again.”
I redirected my gaze, flicked the strand of dog fur from my hoodie, and stared out of the windshield. “Are you sure your dad’s driver can’t drive me to and from school?”
“The man’s appendix burst, Princess. What do you expect from him?”
“What’s the recovery time for an appendectomy again?” I could last a few days. It wasn’t the end of the world.
“A week at the very least.” His eyes cut to me.
“Keep your eyes on the road. This is precisely why Orlando should be driving me.” Definitely not because I couldn’t handle being this close to Damian.
He reached forward and turned up the air conditioner, his fingers so close to my body. “Orlando has one to three weeks of recovery left, and no amount of complaining from you will change that.” The flat voice he spoke in did little to appease me.
I shook my head, my denial weak at best. “I’m not complaining. I don’t complain.”
He braked at a stop light and returned his attention to me. “Do you have a problem with me being your ride to school?”
I paused. “Did you say three weeks?”
“Yes.” His fingers tapped the steering whe
el, and he repeated, “Do you have a problem with me being your ride to school?” His probing gaze scorched my skin.
The stop light refused to turn green.
Come on, come one, come on.
Devils Ridge had to be the worst place for me to realize I had a heart. Small town. No way out. Unhinged mafia boss. The hottest guy I’d ever met everywhere I turned. And now we’d be stuck in a car together every morning and afternoon? No way.
My teeth dug into my lower lip before I opened my mouth again. “What happened to us not being seen together?”
“Everyone in town knows Orlando is in the hospital. They’ll understand when they see you with me.”
“Did your dad put you up to this?”
He slammed on the brakes and stuck his arm in front of me to stop my body from shooting forward. His head swung to me, and his eyes scraped their way up and down my face. “Are you serious?”
I looked down at where his arm touched my chest. “Yes.”
No.
I didn’t know.
Damian shook his head. “Angelo wanted you home, and you’ve seen how he’s been hiding out all week.”
I caught the implication. Damian had made the decision to drive me to school, rather than leave me with Angelo. Considering his motives meant considering the possibility that he worried about me, which would imply he cared.
Maybe one day, I’d be able to accept that without a fight, but until then, I’d keep my guard up and trust no one with my heart.
