Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Maddie

Four hours earlier…

“I don’t date,” I mutter to my best friend, Lucia, as she applies a brush of mascara to my lashes.

I can do the task myself. A person can feel the bend of their lashes on the lid. And with good light, I can see enough to not completely hack the job if I lean really close to the mirror.

My vision is just poor enough to make me legally blind, but I’m not sightless.

“I’m well aware of your dating preferences,” Lucia says as she dips the brush into the bottle, completing my makeup. “But you can’t stay here all day, every day, with no company other than birds and a few squirrels.”

“Why not?” I grump, even though I know she’s probably right. Granted, I have her, and the Amazon delivery guy and I are pretty tight. And by that, I mean we talk occasionally when he delivers a package.

Though, technically, he has asked me out twice. And for someone like me, dating a delivery guy would have real advantages…

But since my grandmother’s death, I’ve really withdrawn, and Lucia has taken it upon herself to push me out of my funk.

Which is why she dragged me to some swanky bar last week because I needed to “get out” and see the world beyond my little walled garden. I’d reluctantly agreed and somehow managed to acquire a date with Vigo Vendetti.

He talks like a gangster. His tone is all male bravado, which I don’t like at all, but his touch on my elbow was gentle enough.

And when he’d asked, I’d been about to say no when Lucia had hissed in my ear. “He’s hot. Like hot, hot.”

I didn’t need her to tell me. I could see the outline of his muscular frame, smell his expensive cologne.

Even I’d seen the rough, masculine cut of his jaw, and so, with a sigh, knowing Lucia wouldn’t leave me alone if I said no, I’d accepted his invitation.

Now, here I was, in a dress, with mascara on, seriously regretting allowing Lucia to bully me into this.

“Maybe I should put a few more curls in your hair. It’s getting a little flat.” She’s close enough, I see her frown as she inspects my blonde coif.

I shake my head. My hair is thick enough but it’s always been really soft and silky so it’s never held a curl. A fact I tried to tell her before she broke out the curling iron. “Leave it,” I say. “I already told you, it’s not going to stay.”

She makes that dissatisfied sound she usually reserves for surgery, but the curling iron clinks back down on the bathroom countertop.

“I just want you to look…”

I reach for her hand, holding her fingertips in my palm. Lucia is a veterinarian, her husband is her assistant. I know in her heart she thinks I’d be better off if I were married too. Which I appreciate.

Honestly though, I’d be a lot for any guy to take on. And I’m not even talking about my sight. Well, I am pretty much talking about my lack of sight.

But I’ve also got a menagerie of pets that I love but would drive any other person to distraction. “Lucia. These things can’t be forced.”

“I know. I know you’re right,” she sighs, her fingers flexing against my palm. “But some effort might help.”

I let go of her hand and then reach up to fluff my strands of hair. The clock in the hall chimes out nine, which means Vigo will be here any minute.

It’s the first date I’ve ever had that started after seven. Granted, I think the last time I went out with a guy was sophomore year of college. Was that really two years ago? Lucia might be right. I do need to get out.

But it’s so tough when you’re different. Not a lot of guys even want to date someone like me. And once I get past that hurdle…my other sinking point surfaces. The guy from sophomore year and I had gone out a few times, had a nice time in the back of his car until I’d confessed that I was a virgin. The night had ended early and he didn’t ask me out again.

I get it.

Honestly, I’m kind of hoping for different results from Vigo. I’m almost twenty-two and haven’t even managed to go all the way. I don’t really see Vigo as boyfriend material, but I bet he’d be all right for getting rid of my virginity.

After that…

I’m not even sure I want the pressure of dating. It has always been much safer to keep my little animals as company.

People are usually so disappointing. Or maybe I just disappoint them.

Not Lucia, of course. Despite my grumpiness at being forced into this date, she is one of the rare people I can count on to be a standout person and friend.

Which is why I just allowed her to doll me up like a harlot.

And not her husband, Josh. He’s a really good guy who is crazy supportive of his wife. He’s sitting out on my couch now, watching a baseball game, while he waits for Lucia to be done with my transformation.

I wish I was with him. I love baseball. Maybe because it’s a slow enough game that the auditory alone makes me feel like I can see it.

Lucia reaches for something on the counter, the click of the blush case alerting me that she’s about to apply even more makeup when my doorbell rings.

“Thank goodness,” I sigh as I push up from the chair she’s placed in my tiny bathroom.

I inherited my house from my maternal grandmother. It’s a little two-story two-family, left over from a long-forgotten time in Las Vegas before the strip was built. It’s my oasis in this city and my connection with one of the few other people who loved me in this world.

I hear Josh answer the door, his friendly call of hello, met with silence.

I push out of the bathroom and down the hall, tension thick in my small living room. I can get around my house no matter the light, having lived here all my life.

“Hi,” I call, my voice high pitched and breathy with my own nervousness, coming to stand next to Josh and in front of Vigo.

“Who’s this guy?” Vigo grunts instead of answering me. My smile dies. I like strong men. The few guys I’ve dated have had serious alpha vibes.

But Vigo isn’t coming across alpha, he just sounds like a jerk.

“Josh, Vigo. Vigo, Josh.”

“Hey, Vigo,” Lucia says from behind me. “Nice to see you again.” She lightly pushes me to the side, standing between me and Josh. “We should let these two crazy kids go off on their date. It’s baseball night for us.”

Vigo grunts but doesn’t apologize to Josh or say hello to me as he turns and starts walking down the front steps…without me.

Am I supposed to follow? I sigh as I take a few steps. This isn’t the most auspicious start, and I already know this isn’t ending with a night in bed. Vigo is just too rough…

Too bad.

I know my own steps and I make it down them easily enough, but I can’t see the car in the darkness and I’ve no idea which way I’m going. “Vigo?”

Maybe he won’t answer. Maybe he’ll just drive off. Granted, it would mean I wasted the last hour primping, but then again, I could listen to the game and eat popcorn with Josh and Lucia, which sounds way more fun than pretending my date isn’t a jerk.

“Here,” he says, and then his hand comes to my elbow.

Both his voice and his touch are gentle this time and I breathe out a sigh of relief as he walks me to the car and then opens the door.

I touch his hand on my arm to stop him from helping me in. “Hey, Vigo?”

“Yeah?” He asks in a half grunt as his fingers clench and unclench on my arm, his impatience clear.

Another sign he’s not enjoying my company.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want.”

“Do what?” he asks, and he sounds irritated again. I grimace.

“Go out.” I draw in a quick breath. “I get it…dating someone like me might not be that fun. It’s my fault.”

He gives my arm a small squeeze, all his hectic energy gone. “I think dating a girl like you is going to be lots and lots of fun.”

“How’s that?” I ask, the tiniest tremor of fear moving through me. It’s the word choice and the tone that make his words sound like a threat.

He pauses and I can actually feel his gaze sliding down me, his body hardening. Does he like that I’m extra vulnerable? Again, I’m all for alphas but I feel almost…unsafe. And not in the he’s dangerously hot kind of way.

I hear him suck at his lip. “You’re hot, Maddie.”

“Oh.” Heat rises in my cheeks as he opens the door and hands me in. It only takes a second for me to realize he’s putting me in the backseat on the passenger’s side. What the…

“Hi,” a woman’s voice chirps from my left. “I’m Kate.”

“Hi,” I answer back. There’s another woman on our date?

“Hey gorgeous,” another male voice says from the front. “Remember me?”

I know the voice. It’s Vigo’s brother, Vincent. They were together when Vigo and I met. “Is this a double date?”

A door in the front of the car closes. “Did I not mention that?” Vigo asks, sounding unconcerned.

“Nope. You didn’t.” But I really don’t mind. In fact, it’s a relief. Not being alone with Vigo will make this night so much easier.

The car speeds off and Kate asks me several questions about myself, which I mostly deflect back to her.

She’s in medical school, and only visiting Vegas for the summer for an internship. She met Vincent two nights ago when she was at a restaurant alone having dinner. “I haven’t made any friends here yet,” she whispers with a small laugh. “It’s nice to talk with another woman.”

“It’s so wonderful to chat with you too,” I answer back, meaning it. She’s been really nice.

Which makes me wonder what she’s doing out with Vincent.

If Vigo goes from nice to jerk and back again, Vincent consistently reeks of giant a-hole. Like class bully vibes.

We pull up to some place with a large crowd and get out as the valet takes the keys. “Not a scratch,” Vincent rumbles before he hands them over. “I fucking mean it. I will end you if anything happens to my car.”

I cringe at his words and his tone.

Vigo’s hand is at my elbow again and I’m whisked inside and straight to a private room, the sound of the crowd dying away as our chairs are quietly pulled out.

“Wow,” Kate says in a whisper as she looks around. “I knew this would be a good dinner if I said yes. I can’t even afford a spot in the dining room at this place, let alone a private room.”

“Stick with me, baby,” Vincent replies with enough obvious smarm to make me actually wince.

“Your friend Lucia. Where is she from?” Vigo asks from my other side.

“Boston.”

“I mean, where in Italy,” Vigo snorts. “She’s got an Italian name.”

My mouth opens and closes as I try to formulate a proper response. How was I supposed to know that’s what he meant? “Umm, east coast, I think. Near San Marino.”

“We’re from Rome,” Vigo says with pride. “Still keep in touch with family there. In fact, one of our cousins is visiting.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if their Italian relatives are gangsters too. I get sassy when I’m irritated, and this date is on the way to pissing me off.

But Vincent speaks first. “You should go there sometime. Sights are amazing.”

Kate delicately clears her throat, as I try to hide a smile. His words don’t bother me, it’s difficult to consider things from other people’s perspectives, but the idea of me sightseeing is amusing. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The waiter arrives and Vigo and Vincent begin ordering for the table.

Kate leans closer. “What is the extent of your impairment?”

“Legally blind but only just,” I reply, also used to this question.

“If you need any help tonight, just ask,” she offers with a light touch to my arm.

“Thank you, Kate. I really appreciate that.”

“I don’t know about you,” she leans closer. “But I only said yes to get a really nice dinner. They’ve been hard to come by lately and I could tell Vincent would spring for a quality restaurant.”

I let out a very soft laugh. “I was hoping for a really good dessert,” I reply with a wink.

She lets out a small gasp before she laughs too. “Oh, you’re fun.”

I hope I can get her number before the night is out. I don’t think I’m getting another date or dessert out of my night with Vigo, but a new friend would be amazing.

I let most of my college friends go when I dropped out. Lucia is right about one thing. I’ve let my world get very small. But caring for my gran at the end was tough and then I was grieving. But it’s time to step out into the world again.

The rest of the evening passes in much the same fashion, and I’m relieved when we load in the car to go home.

I’m certain that Vigo won’t ask for an invitation in since we’re with other people. If he does ask me out again, I can just say no.

I do lean over to Kate on the drive home. “Any chance you’d be interested in coffee sometime?”

“I’d love that,” she whispers back as I hand her my phone and she plugs in her number.

I take the phone back, just as we pull up to the curb. I expect Vigo to open the door right away but the energy in the car shifts again. A tension fills the car as Vigo spits something in Italian to his brother and Vincent curses in return.

I barely notice when the phone slips from my fingers.

“Whose car is that?” Vincent rumbles. “Who do you know that’s got a Ferrari?”

“Me?” I ask, shaking my head. “No one.” People in my world don’t drive sports cars. Lucia has a beat up, very old Honda Civic.

“I’ll get her inside,” Vigo mutters. “Don’t do anything until her door is closed.” And then I’m being whisked out of the car, Vigo tugging me from the seat.

“What does that mean?” Kate asks just as the door slams shut. I turn toward her, squeezing Vigo’s arm.

“Kate should come in too?—"

“Don’t fucking move,” Vincent says. I have no idea who he’s talking to. Me? But I freeze at his harsh tone.

Vigo, however, tugs me forward, pulling me toward the house. I nearly trip on the sidewalk but he doesn’t stop. “Key,” he barks.

I pull the metal from my pocket, as I lift it up with a trembling hand. “Please.” I try again. “You can leave Kate here. But she should come in with us.”

“Shut up.” He inserts the key in the lock and swings open the door just as two pops fill the night.

“What was…” I start to ask but his hand comes to my face.

“You see that?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Just heard it. It sounded like…”

“Fireworks,” he answers, before he pushes me inside the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

And then he shuts it again.

I stand in my dark living room and listen to the sound of Vigo half yelling at Vincent as the trunk of the car opens and closes, before the car speeds away.

What the hell just happened?

The house is dark and quiet. I don’t move, listening to the night. And that’s when I hear it.

A low groan.

And then another.

It sounds like a wounded animal or a… man.

Reaching for the knob I slowly open the door and step outside…