“Well!?” he shouts, making me jump. And, unraveled as I am by the sheer power and terror of this man, I fall back on what Christian told me to say: the truth. “Um,” I say, glancing at Christian again and then giving a hesitant little shrug. “I guess he just…likes me.” Don Romano studies me for
“Steven,” I whisper, my hand immediately going to my mouth. Because even though his head is covered in some kind of potato sack, I know that’s him being hauled in with his hands tied behind his back, stumbling over the shoes I bought him for Christmas. Christian is instantly in action, stepping in
“Then why,” Don Romano says, stepping away from Steven and towards me. “Are you crying?” Am I? I take new note of myself and realize that there are tears on my cheeks. I start to tremble as Romano comes close, lifting his broad and dangerous hand to slowly wipe the tears from my cheeks. I shake
I give credit to my stripper name and go very, very still as I stare at the Don of the Romano family like a little baby deer in the headlights. Slowly, the Don’s face stretches into a wicked smile, and I see that he likes my fear – likes his women, perhaps, knock-kneed and trembling. Something abo
But I hold the questions back, because I can see the tension in Christian’s shoulders, see the stern set of his jaw. I’m not getting anything out of him today – nothing real, at least. Instead, I just reach across the car and put a hand on his knee, putting my own anger and fear aside and wanting
The next few hours move quickly mostly because…well, because I don’t let myself think about much. Instead, I get busy. “Iris,” Frankie moans as I push past him into his room, starting to scoop clothing off of the floor and throwing it into a hamper. “Please, Iris – you can’t just channel all of yo
Frankie, to my surprise, narrows his eyes at me a little bit, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk. “What?” I ask, frowning at him, confused. “It’s just…” he hesitates, and then runs a hand through his hair. “Can I say something that’s going to make you a little mad, Iris?” I step b
“Oh my god,” Christian says, half frustration and half panic as he crosses the room in an instant, wrapping me up in his arms. “Frank, what the hell is going on here!?” “I didn’t do anything!” Frankie protests, looking at me wide-eyed from the living room. “She was fine five seconds ago!” Nico d