Married to the Bad Boy(37)
Tony crosses his arms, thinking, and then he shakes his head with a boom of laughter. “You know, I knew there was something off about you the moment you grabbed my cock in the bar. Amazing in bed, but completely fucking nuts.”
Oh fuck you.
My face burns again, this time flushed with the embarrassment of his insult. “I’m not crazy. I need to be married to a made guy, or I am dead.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Yeah, it fucking is,” I fire back. “It’s also the only thing that’ll keep me alive.”
Tony plays with the silverware on the table, tapping the butt end of the knife on the wood as he looks at me.
“Fifty-thousand dollars for a few months’ work isn’t ridiculous. It’s fair.”
Another snort of laughter leaves him and he drops the knife. He covers his mouth with both hands, his eyes alive with mirth. I should have known he wasn’t going to take me seriously.
I slam my purse on the table and stand up abruptly.
Suddenly his attitude turns. His hands lie flat on the table as the humor wipes from his face, and he looks at me with a paralyzing stare.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“I won’t be laughed at,” I snarl, suddenly hating everything about him right down to his smug smirk. He doesn’t know what the fuck I’m going through.
“I’m really not the guy you go to for this shit.”
“I’m aware of that, but I’m short on time, and I’ll be paying you, for fuck’s sake. It’s just another job.”
“It’s extreme.”
You want to see what I’m fucking running from, asshole?
In front of the whole restaurant, I lift up my shirt, stopping just below my bra.
Black eyebrows narrow dangerously at me. “What the fuck are you doing? This is a nice place. You can’t disrespect—”
“Look.”
I point at the huge purple bruise stretching over the side of my abdomen, the dark horror that he missed under the sheets. His face sobers immediately.
“He did that?” His voice sounds uncomfortable.
“There’s more,” I say in a toneless voice, dropping my shirt.
“That looks pretty serious.”
“That’s the fucking point.”
“I meant that you should see a doctor.”
“I don’t need a fucking doctor. A doctor won’t help me stay alive the next few days. You just—you don’t understand what it’s like. I’m scared, and this is the only thing I can think of.”
Tears thicken my voice, and I hate that I can’t keep it together in front of this guy.
He sighs and wipes his hand down his face. “Sit down.”
Trembling, I return to my seat and ball my fists on my knees.
Tony begins talking in a softer voice. “I’m telling you, it’s a bad idea. No one will believe it.”
“Who cares if they don’t believe it? I just need to be married, right?”
He buries his face in his hands. “What the fuck do you think this is, the boy scouts? No—not if people think it’s fake. Besides, if Johnny found out, I’d have to give him tribute.”
Shit.
“Well—”
“How do I even know you have access to that kind of money?”
I hurl him an ugly look. “Tommy is holding it for me. I have over a hundred grand American.”
His eyebrows lift at that, and he takes the glass of wine, taking a huge gulp. “It’s still a bad idea.”
“I don’t have any alternative! Do you think I want to marry some guy I just met?”
“People know me, sweetheart. They know I’d never get hitched.”
My head perks up. “Does this mean you’re interested?”
“It’s a lot of fucking money, of course I’m interested. But that’s a lot of—” A lump moves up his throat. “My mom—it would fucking kill her. She’d never forgive me.”
I lean forward and take his hand, expecting him to rip it away from me, but he lets me smooth my thumb over his knuckles. “I’m sure she’d be proud of you for helping someone whose life was in danger.”
His eyes cut me. “You don’t know her, and you don’t know me. What makes you think I’m the right guy for this? You think that just because we had a good time, I won’t just rob you and throw you into the streets?”
My hands twist in my lap as he stares at me with that intense glare, daring me to contradict him.
“I have to have faith in something. I don’t know you, but I don’t think you’ll hurt me.”
He crosses his arms and a scowl burns on his face.
He’s right. This is stupid. I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know me. There’s no way he’ll agree to do this for me. My best bet is to just run. Run far away, and keep running until Raf gets tired of chasing me.