“Because we need to talk to him. It can’t go on like this, Harley. Your ex is dangerous.”
Rome and Kingsley had gone behind my back? Fire flared in my gut. How dare they!
“Please don’t be mad,” Kingsley said quietly. “I want you to be safe.”
The anger fled. I was about to ask why he was so protective of me, but I already knew the answer—because he had to watch his sister getting gang raped. He wanted to protect me because he hadn’t been able to protect her. How could I not let him?
“Okay,” I whispered, my voice raw. My heart ached so much for him I had a hard time breathing. No words could describe the horror of his experience. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend justhowhorrific it must have been. “I never said thank you for calming me down that night.”
He readjusted the grip on the steering wheel, nothing but the droning of the F-150’s engine filling the cab. Streetlamps zoomed by, traffic steady but not too dense.
“I’m sorry if this got you into trouble somehow.” I clasped my hands in my lap. “I know what you did probably conflicts with your vows and your conscience.”
“The Instruments of Good Works number eighteen says to help in trouble, and nineteen to console the sorrowing. That’s what I did.”
Oh.
“And even if it wouldn’t say that, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
I stilled. Didn’t dare to breathe. “You’re not supposed to say things like that.”
“I can’t help it, Harley.” His admission emerged hoarse, almost tortured. “Holding you was . . . I’ve never felt anything like it before. And I can’t stop thinking about you. I know I shouldn’t, but I just can’t. You’re even in my dreams.”
My heartbeat went erratic. A part of me wanted to ask what kind of dreams. The smarter part knewexactlythat this question was fatal.
I wanted to tell him to pull over so I could look him in the eye while he said those words. Then I’d kiss him—
No, Harley! Stop it! Lord, help me. Take this ache for him away.
“Have you ever kissed a woman?” The words just popped out of my mouth, and apparently I couldn’t shut up because I kept rambling on. “Ever since Giuliana asked this question, I’ve been burning to know the answer. Before you say anything, though, I want you to know that I respect your privacy, and you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.” Ugh, could I make this any worse?
For the longest moment, Kingsley said nothing. I’d already accepted the fact that he wouldn’t answer when he spoke up. His voice was all gravel. “You, in my thoughts.”
Closing my eyes, I suppressed a moan. Sure, I’d asked for this. But how much more did the man want to torture me with his brutal honesty?
Kingsley glanced over at me, then trained his gaze back on the interstate. “Now that you know how I feel towards you, we need to keep our distance. Keep clear boundaries. The road is narrow.”
“No. Yup. Absolutely.” I nodded vigorously. “If we both give our best, it shouldn’t be too hard.” Right?
“Let me pray for us.” He cleared his throat. “Father, we praise Your name and thank You for all You do. The friendship You have gifted Harley and me is special, and I pray that it may glorify You. Give us the strength to stay on the path of righteousness. Amen.”
My heart melted and twisted at the same time. I’d always wanted a man who prayed with and for me. But having him pray that our relationship would stay platonic cut into me like a sharp knife.
But it was the only right thing to do. He was a monk. End of story.
For the rest of the drive I pretended to sleep all the while my heart cried out to God. I was so sick and tired of ending up falling for the wrong men over and over. God loved me more than I could comprehend, I knew that. But right now I felt rejected and unwanted. Overlooked.
And it hurt.
Finally, Kingsley pulled off the interstate and turned onto the road leading to the Marino estate. Nestled in the jungle at the north shore, thick walls that competed with the monastery’s surrounded the Marino mob’s very own neighborhood, cut off from the rest of the island’s civilization.
We were halfway down the road when a motorcycle tore past us in a wheelie. Rome. No protective gear except for a helmet, the wind tearing at his black slacks and dress shirt. The guy was crazy.
Behind us, a convoy of black SUVs and Jeeps followed all the way to a guarded steel gate. It swung inside, and Rome drove through, tailed by us. The convoy split at an intersection, Rome leading us left, the rest going straight. Luxurious homes rolled by until only jungle framed the road.
After about a half a mile, we had to pass through yet another gate and ended up on a narrow road winding up to a breathtaking marble mansion perched on top of a hill in the middle of the jungle. One of the double garages opened, and Rome drove inside, gesturing over his shoulder for us to follow. Kingsley did as told, and as soon as we were inside, surrounded by more marble, the garage door closed behind us.
I swallowed. How would Rome respond to me accusing Craig of being involved with the Mafia? And what would hedowith that information?
