Impossible Odds

21

The pathetic part of me that had hoped they’d discover me and force sense into her. I wanted to grab that part of me by the throat and rip out its jugular. It took several calming breaths before the chaos in my mind settled. I needed to see things logically. Rationally. I needed to take her withdrawal as a sign and move forward with the plan without deviation, leaving Giada in peace. However, the selfish, vile part of me that knew no mercy reared and bucked against its bridle. He wanted Giada, regardless of the consequences. That cancerous voice inside me whispered seductively that I could keep her safe—that she wanted me, regardless of what her family may have told her. It should have been her choice to make, not theirs. I teetered on a precipice. A knife’s edge between redemption and damnation—walk away and save her or drag her down with me on my hellish descent. I had no pictures of my mother, so her image had faded in my mind’s eye. Sometimes, I intentionally pushed aside thoughts of her so she wouldn’t know the wretched things I’d done. But other times—times like these—her presence was too hard to fight off. Her memory reminded me how the underworld I now called my own had been the cause of her untimely death.

I didn’t want that for Giada. But isn’t life about free will? The mutinous voice of self-interest hissed inside my head. Shouldn’t it be Giada’s choice and not yours or her family’s? f**k. It was hard to argue with that logic, which presented a third option to consider. I could go to Giada one last time and see if walking away was truly her choice. The soulless creature that lived in the darkest parts of me leaped at the opportunity. One more chance to touch her. To taste her. I told myself it was best to leave it up to her because I didn’t want to admit the truth. I was too weak to do the right thing. To walk away and never contact her again. No matter the warnings, I would seek her out and let her decide both our fates. *** The next day, she had a guard with her when she left her apartment. I followed them to a nail salon and observed through the plate glass windows as her escort stationed himself in the front waiting area. I walked around to the back of the building, locating a rear entry and finding a man outside smoking with the salon door propped open. I didn’t give him time to make a sound. With practiced speed, I looped my arm around his throat and held him in a chokehold until he passed out. He’d be fine when he woke up, and I’d be long gone. Slipping inside the salon, I navigated my way to the pedicure stations where Giada sat alone, her feet in a small tub of water and eyes glued to her phone. She was cut off from view of the front entry by a half wall and decorative beads strung from the ceiling. The chair next to her was unoccupied, so I walked over as if I belonged there and took a seat. “I didn’t think you were the type to let others dictate your life.” She gasped and nearly dropped her phone into the tub of water. “You’re here.” Her eyes were wide with shock, and I detected an undercurrent of relief in her whispered response. Had I imagined it? Or was she truly pleased to see me? “I told you I’d come before I left town. At the time, that didn’t seem to be a problem.” My eyes cut over to the front of the salon where her escort waited for her. “You shouldn’t be here,” she hissed, growing more agitated. “My family knows who you are, and they’ll hurt you if they find you here.” “I’m not worried about them.” “Well, I am. I’m worried about everything. They told me you’re a part of a cartel. I don’t want me or my family to be in danger.” Exactly as I’d suspected. Her text had nothing to do with her feelings for me and everything to do with the garbage her family had fed her. As if they were saints. Bullshit. “Have I hurt you in any way?” I demanded. A crease formed between her brows. “No, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t a danger to me.” Her statement was fraught with uncertainty. I was gaining ground. “If you truly believed I was dangerous, you never would have let me touch you. I gave you opportunities to walk away, but you didn’t. You wanted me just as much as I wanted you. Your family’s prejudices shouldn’t get in the way of that.” “You warned me away yourself. I can’t just ignore that.” She shook her head, chewing on her bottom lip. I pulled back and allowed a curtain of frigid air to fall between us. I should have let her pull away—accepted her retreat and moved on with my original plan—but I couldn’t. I had to make one last effort to convince her not to run. “The woman who approached me in the casino and who came on my fingers in a nightclub closet wouldn’t let anyone tell her what she wanted or who she could see. If that’s truly who you are, and you’re brave enough to trust yourself, you know my number. I’m in town two more days.” I stood and started to leave. The challenge was harsh, but I was a man used to getting my way. And besides, there was more strength in her pinky finger than in her entire family. She just hadn’t figured that out yet. “What does that mean?” Giada asked, grasping my wrist, then releasing me when she realized what she’d done. “It means I want you to come with me.” “To stay with you? Like a vacation?” “If that’s what you want—stay as long as you like. I’m as unsettled by whatever this is between us as you are, but I know I’m not ready to give you up yet.