“Is there something I can do for you?”
“You can take your goddamn hands off my fiancée, for one.”
That takes me aback for about a half second. Then I remember what Jess said earlier: marry the man Pop wants me to marry. This guy? Seriously?
I don’t let go of Jessica’s hand. Instead I turn my attention fully to her. “Jess, do you know this guy?” Dumb question. Of course she does; he’s her dad’s right-hand asshole.
“Yes.”
“Are you his fiancée?”
“No,” she shoots back, her spine straightening.
I give Carmine a look—one of those that makes people cower when they catch it across the ring. Carmine flinches, but only slightly.
“She’s with me.”
“Oh really?” He’s got his smug back, and he’s wearing it like a jacket. It doesn’t suit him.
“Take your fucking hands off her.”
We’re gathering some attention, and I don’t like that. I give Carmine’s hand a meaningful look; he’s still got hold of Jessica’s elbow.
He leaves his hand where it is for a long moment, just long enough to make it clear he’s letting her go because he wants to, not because I told him to. We’ll see about that.
“You’ve been sleeping around with this prick behind my back? You fucking whore.” His mouth twists around the ugly words, making them even uglier.
I try not to jerk at Jessica’s hand, instead drawing her more gently back to my side. That strange urge to protect her has welled up inside me again. Maybe there really is a decent guy down in there, inside me somewhere. Not likely, but I suppose anything’s possible. I ease her partially behind me and face Carmine squarely.
“You want to take that back.”
“No, I don’t.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
His eyes narrow. He’s not much shorter than me, and he’s not exactly out of shape. But I know he’s not a fighter. He works out—I see him at the gym sometimes—but he’s built his muscle for looks, not for strength, speed, or anything useful. I can take him with one hand tied behind my back. Shit, I could probably take him with both hands tied behind my back. He ought to know this, but I get the feeling he doesn’t.
“She’s been promised to me since we were kids. You know that, Jess. It’s what your dad wants.” His voice is smarmy, cloying.
I really, really want to hit him.
“I don’t give a shit what my dad wants,” Jess shoots back. Good for her. She’s no shrinking violet, just like I figured from the beginning. She’ll give as good as she gets. But she’s still a woman, and Carmine’s a man, and he’s bigger and stronger than she is, and he could hurt her if he wanted to. And he’s the kind of asshole who just might want to.
I could hurt her too, if I’m not careful. Not on purpose. But it’s what I do. I’m not sure I know how to be any other way. I swallow back that thought. It’s one that always scares me. I don’t need that right now.
Carmine has worked up to a snarl, his almost-attractive face screwed up into something ugly. “You think anything you say matters?” I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or to Jess. Maybe both of us. I do know he’s drawing a crowd, and I don’t want that. I start to steer us toward the door. Carmine wants to come at me, he can fucking well do it outside where not as many people are in the way.
Predictably he follows. “You’re nothing, Cain. You’re shit. You know that. You’re just Spada’s dog.”
I clench my fist as I push through the door. It’s chilly outside, just enough to take the edge off the heat of anger sliding through my veins. Romano doesn’t know what he’s fucking with.
“And you…” Romano won’t shut up, and he’s stabbing a finger at Jessica now. “You’re his daughter.” He says it like a daughter is more than a few steps down from the dog he just labeled me as. “You know damn well you’ll do what he says. And what he says is that you’ll marry me.”
He’s on a roll. I wonder what he’s trying to prove. I’d bet everything in my wallet right now—and that’s not an insubstantial amount—that he’s never had Jess. He sure as hell hasn’t seen her come apart like she does with me. No way in hell.
I face him squarely, now that we’re outside. I know damn well what’s about to come out of my mouth should just stay there, but I can’t seem to stop the words once they start. He’s got me so pissed off my eyeballs feel like they’re on fire. “Even if you get married, she’s still going to be thinking about me every time you wave that tiny dick at her.”