Inferno(33)

He jumped back from me as I lashed out at him. He jerked his head and my fingers caught his chin. Quick, but not quick enough. His hand flew to his jaw.

His eyes went wide. ‘Sophie.’

‘How could you?’ I gasped.

‘I’m protecting you.’ He shook the alarm from his face and flipped the card over, his dark eyes slitting as he read Jack’s handwritten message to me. ‘I had to do it.’

I glared at him.

‘You weren’t going to give it to me,’ he said.

‘It was mine! I didn’t have to!’

‘You don’t know what you’re dealing with here, Sophie.’

I had to curl my fingernails into my palms to keep from trying to slap him again. ‘In that one kiss, you just cheapened everything we ever had.’

Alarm spread across his face. He stepped into our bubble again, his hands reaching out for mine. ‘I didn’t cheapen it. I did it to look out for you.’

I backed away from him. ‘Just leave me alone.’

‘You can’t go see your uncle, Sophie. I don’t care if you’re mad at me, but you can’t go into that club. That’s Black Hand territory. It’s not safe for you there.’

I gestured around me as I walked away. ‘It’s not safe for me anywhere!’

He matched my quickened pace easily. ‘Listen to me. Donata Marino doesn’t care about Jack. The Marinos never associate with anyone outside their family. They’re using him, and if you get sucked into their world, they’ll use you too. I’m asking you – I am begging you – do not go to that club.’

I didn’t look back at him. ‘It’s none of your business what I choose to do.’

‘I’ll make it my business to go in there after you.’

I turned around. ‘You wouldn’t!’

He set his jaw. ‘Try me.’

‘You can’t manipulate me like that,’ I hissed. But he could and he was. I didn’t want him following me into that club and going head-to-head with my uncle and all his new allies. There would be blood, and it would be on my conscience.

I started walking again. ‘You were supposed to stay away from me.’

He followed me. ‘That was before.’

‘Before what.’

‘Before I knew the Black Hand were involved.’

My mind was swirling with possibilities. How could I get rid of Nic from this scenario? How could I convince him not to come to that club? He wasn’t going to give up.

‘Let’s make a deal, then,’ I said, swivelling. I masked my features and lifted my eyes to his. I made them as wide as I could and nudged at my bottom lip with my teeth.

He watched me, unblinking.

I drew in a breath and with all the sincerity I could muster I made my proposition. ‘I won’t go to Eden if you promise not to go to Eden.’

He looked past me, contemplating. He drummed his fingers against his jaw. ‘You promise?’

‘I promise,’ I lied.

‘OK, then,’ he relented. ‘So do I.’

As I let myself in, a chair screeched in the kitchen and my mother rushed to meet me in the hallway. Her face was drawn tight.

My throat seized up. ‘Mom? What’s going on?’

She held up my pillow in greeting, the bloodied side turned towards me.

Crap.

‘Sophie?’ She padded towards me. ‘What’s happened?’

The cut on my palm burnt with the memory. The image of my mother crying by herself that night in the kitchen had been seared into my brain – the vision so like the version of my mother approaching me now, searching my face for clues. Guilt bubbled inside me. I blinked once, slowly, banishing the memories.

‘Oh, yeah.’ I took the pillow from her, held it by a corner and rotated it, forcing nonchalance. ‘I had a nosebleed a couple of nights ago.’ I flicked my gaze across her features, praying the lie would land. ‘The doctor said it would probably happen once or twice, since my nose is still healing. It’s not a big deal.’

Her eyebrows drew together, creasing her forehead. ‘Why didn’t you wake me when it happened?’

You weren’t asleep. I shrugged. ‘It was late. I didn’t see the point.’

‘The point?’ My mother shook her head. ‘You should have come to me, Sophie. You know you can always come to me.’

‘It was just a nosebleed. It had almost stopped by the time I woke up.’

‘Still,’ she said. ‘I’m your mother. That’s what I’m here for.’

I offered her a half smile in the dimness. ‘Please don’t worry about it.’

‘Sweetheart,’ she mirrored my smile, her head cocked lightly to one side, ‘it’s a mother’s job to worry.’