His (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)(54)

Aria gives me a pitying look, like a mother trying to tell her teenage daughter that high school guys only want one thing. “It’s normal to feel guilty after sleeping with a guy like that. Maybe you just hope you will feel better about it if you convince yourself there’s more than just sex between you two.”

I take a deep breath, feeling my nostrils flare. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Change the subject? You go missing for over a week. I’ve been meeting with the cops almost every day, spending my time after work looking for you. Now you suddenly show up and want to talk about something else? What else is there to talk about?”

I put a palm to my forehead, desperate to change the topic of conversation. “How about you and Ronnie. Are you two still together?”

She frowns. “No, he was an asshole. So why didn’t this Vince come up with you if he’s so worried about your safety?”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. She’s really not going to drop it. Her phone rings, saving me from answering.

Aria checks the screen and sighs. “Your dad will not stop calling me.”

I get up to take the phone from her. I need to get this over with. I pick up the phone. “Have you heard anything?” he asks.

“Dad,” I say. “It’s me.”

There’s a pause. “Aubriella?”

“Yeah.”

“They shut down my water and electric. I’m living like a fucking animal over here. Where have you been?”

I purse my lips and try to breathe my frustration out through my nose. Of course. He’s not worried about me in the slightest. He just wanted to know where his ATM machine went. “I’m fine, thanks for checking, Dad.”

“I need the money, Aubs.”

Everything between us wells up unexpectedly. I didn’t know how much it was weighing on me until his words open some floodgate deep inside me. Somehow this just feels like the culmination of all the small and not-so-small signs he has shown that he really doesn’t care about me, that the man I used to call Dad is dead and gone somewhere. All that’s left is an empty shell that will keep draining me as long as I let it. As much as it hurts, I need to cut my ties to him. I need to end it once and for all.

“Dad. I need you to listen to me real close, okay? I’m going to ask you a question, and I want your completely honest answer.”

There’s a pause. “Okay, but—”

“No. Just listen, Dad. I’m telling you right now that I’m never going to give you another penny so long as I live. I don’t care if you just need a dollar to buy a hamburger and you’re starving. I’m not giving you money anymore. You’re never going to get better unless I cut you off and let you get back on your own feet.”

He says nothing.

“So my question is, can you accept that?”

Another long pause. Finally, with a voice that chills me, as if it comes from something dead. “No.”

He hangs up the phone.

So that’s it. Aria is giving me a highly concerned look that I don’t want right now. It’s too much. I want to lock myself off from the memory of what just happened and the overwhelming guilt welling up inside of me. I don’t want to talk about it or be comforted. I’m about to wave her off when a heavy hand pounds at the door, nearly giving me a heart attack.

“Aubriella!” booms a voice from the other side. “Open the fuckin’ door!” It’s a voice I recognize. Vince.

Aria gives me an incredulous look, like she can’t believe he would have the audacity to come upstairs to her apartment. I move to let him in, pushing past Aria who tries to motion for me to ignore him. She has no idea what kind of man he is. Even if I wanted to keep him out, there’s no way something as small as a door would stop him from coming in.

I swing the door open. Vince’s hair is messed up and he’s glazed with sweat. He still looks absolutely incredible, and I catch Aria reluctantly admiring him from the corner of my eye. It takes me a second to realize he’s not alone. The man who was watching me in the Panera after I first met Vince stands beside him. He’s a relatively unremarkable guy with thin eyebrows and lips. He’s holding his ribs and wincing, like he’s in pain.

“What happened?” I ask.

“We’ve gotta move,” says Vince. “It’s not safe here anymore. You’re going to need to come, too,” he says, nodding toward Aria.

“You can’t just come into my house and order me around,” she says, but there’s a hesitance to her tone. I don’t blame her. It’s not easy to stand up to Vince, even if you don’t know what he’s capable of.