Chapter Nineteen #2
"I'll leave," he says, his voice cracking.
"I swear to God, I'll leave town. Tonight.
You won't see me again." Tears well up in his eyes, and a stream of snot leaks from his nose.
His hands shake as he raises them in surrender.
"Please don't tell anyone I ratted. They'll kill me. They'll do worse than kill me."
Adriana doesn't soften. Not even a little. "When?"
"What?" Mario sniffles.
"When are you leaving? I want a time. I want details."
"I... I'll pack my shit right now. I've got a cousin in Arizona. I can crash with him."
"Not good enough." Adriana steps closer. "East Coast. Like I said."
"But I don't know anyone — "
Adriana's foot shoots up between his legs with surgical precision. Mario doubles over, a high-pitched wheeze escaping his lips as he drops to his knees, clutching his groin.
I wince despite myself. That had to hurt.
"I don't give a shit about your tears," Adriana says, standing over him.
"An asshole like you who hurts innocent women doesn't have the right to cry.
" She crouches down to his level, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper.
"You dragged Roxanna by her hair. You terrorized women who were already running from men just like you.
Do you think your pathetic tears mean anything to me? "
Mario gasps for air, still clutching himself. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean..."
"You didn't mean to what? Get caught?" Adriana stands back up. "East Coast. Tomorrow. And if I hear you've so much as looked at another woman wrong, if I hear you've even thought about coming back to California, that phone call gets made. Understood?"
"Yes... yes, I understand."
“That’s not good enough.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s acceptable. You have twenty-four hours.
And you know what, I still might change my fucking mind and make that call — you are such a fucking astounding piece of shit that it boggles my mind that someone hasn’t put a slug in your head already — so you better get the fuck out of this part of the country right the fuck away.
And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll go even further.
Cross the fucking ocean. Or, even better, just fucking walk into the ocean.
Let nature take care of you, you lost fucking cause. ”
I smile as I watch Adriana destroy this piece of shit with nothing but words and one well-placed kick.
She's magnificent—terrifying, but magnificent.
The way she stands over him while he cowers, the cold precision in her voice, the absolute certainty that she can and will follow through on every threat. It's like watching an artist at work.
Mario stays on his knees, whimpering promises while clutching his bruised manhood. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
"Remember," Adriana says, leaning in close enough that he flinches. "Twenty-four hours. Then I make the call."
"I understand. I swear," Mario croaks out.
She straightens up, gives him one last withering look, then turns and walks away. I follow, resisting the urge to kick the bastard while he's down. That would be overkill after Adriana's masterful performance.
The walk back to our stolen Sebring feels lighter somehow. The sun seems brighter, the air fresher. There's nothing quite like watching justice being served for a woman like Roxanna to improve a day.
"You really had the juice to do all that?" I say once we're out of earshot.
Adriana glances at me, a hint of satisfaction dancing in her eyes. "I'd do whatever it takes to help that girl. And if it takes a scumbag like Mario out, even better."
"Maybe you're not half bad," I say.
She looks at me sideways, with a familiar edge creeping back into her voice. "Still hate your guts, though."
I can't help but smile at that. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her smiling too—just a hint, like she's trying to hide it but can't quite manage.
We reach the car, and I move around to the passenger side.
As I pass behind her, her hand brushes against mine.
It's barely contact, just the whisper of skin against skin, just for a moment. But it’s intentional.
And it hits me like a fucking lightning bolt.
Heat shoots through my entire body, pooling low in my gut and spreading outward until every nerve ending feels electrified.
I freeze for half a second, my breath catching.
This isn't like the other times when I've felt this pull toward her—times when I could shove it down, rationalize it away, remind myself she's Vanessa's sister and off-limits in every way that matters.
This time, the feeling doesn't fade. It burns through me, relentless and demanding, making my skin feel too tight and my pulse hammer against my throat.
I slide into the passenger seat, trying to get my shit together, but when I glance over at her, it only gets worse.
Her cheeks are flushed pink, and there's this subtle smile playing at the corners of her mouth that makes something twist deep in my chest. Not just lust — though, fuck, there's plenty of that — but something deeper.
Something that scares the hell out of me.