Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
S arah
I’m on cloud nine when I step into the hallway. The women’s room is just down the hall from our box, but I realize I’ve picked up a shadow.
“It’s okay, I don’t need an escort.” I tell the man who was standing watch in the hallway.
He shakes his head. “Boss’s orders.”
Well, okay then. I manage to convince him to stand outside after seeing that the ladies’ room is empty. Having one of the guys in the bathroom while I pee would be just mortifying. What’s he supposed to do? Stand outside the stall and twiddle his thumbs?
I take care of business and check to make sure my hair and mask are still in place. Like many theaters, the bathrooms have two entrances. In this case, there is the one I used right by the box seats, but also a front entrance by the elevators that come up from the lobby. Either because I’m distracted by the overall events from the evening, the full Cinderella experience while I comment on my favorite ballet ever to the head of the fucking mafia , who is actually listening to what I have to say , or because the champagne was really good and I’m halfway through my third glass, I mix up my entrance and end up taking the long walk back to the box.
I’m just about to round the corner when a door opens behind me. Given that this whole floor is box seats just like ours, it’s normal for people to be in and out all night long.
Which is why nothing seems amiss until I feel my body jerked back by my hair. I’m slammed against the wall, and the impact knocks the wind out of me, and my head hits the wall with a nauseating thud. My attacker holds me with one hand on my throat and the other clamped over my mouth. He leans his torso against my body, trapping me against the wall.
David LeBlanc glares at me, his beady eyes and ridiculous comb-over inches from my face.
“Why hello, Sarah,” he coos with the stink of cheap scotch on his breath. “I was wondering why you weren’t on stage tonight. I suppose being De Luca’s newest whore is time consuming.”
I can see the scab from when I launched the drink at him. It’s fitting, an ugly scar to match the rest of him. I see movement out of the corner of my eye.
“Get your fucking hands off her right goddamned now.” Vincent’s voice is dangerously calm. I see his gun press against LeBlanc’s sweaty temple. LeBlanc’s hands fall from my body and he steps back, wide eyes darting between me and the man holding the gun on him. The man that walked me to the bathroom swoops in from my other side and pulls me behind him, also holding a wicked looking handgun. He shuffles us back to the box and passes me off like a hot potato. He disappears back down the hallway to where we left Vincent.
Several minutes later, they both reappear, the guns tucked back in their holsters. Vincent holds his arm out, and I dart to his side. He hugs me and kisses the top of my head, whispering something in Italian. Our entire group starts towards the exit, back out to the alley. One of them makes a quick call in Italian, but it only lasts a few seconds. Once we reach the exterior door, the guys all draw their weapons again, and I try to keep my shit together. The first two seem satisfied with their inspection of the alley, and Vincent shows me into the idling SUV, the back door already open, Aldo in the driver’s seat.
This time, one of the others jumps in to ride shotgun. Vaguely, I wonder if that term is to be taken literally right now. Vincent makes a call. He’s speaking Italian, but I hear LeBlanc’s name mentioned, and what I think might be a curse.
Hanging up, he pulls me into his lap, sliding me easily across the leather seats. His chin is resting on my head, and I feel him take several deep breaths. Now is also the time where I realize I’m shaking like a chihuahua in a cold breeze.
“What happened, kitten?” he asks quietly.
I swallow. “The bathrooms have two entrances, and I got mixed up, so I came out on the far side. I was walking down the hall, and I heard a box open, and then someone yanked me by my hair and smashed me into the wall, and that’s about how you found me.”
“Do you know why?” he asks my head.
“I’m not sure.” I let out a sigh. “But I know him.”
Vincent’s body goes still. I swear I feel his heartbeat change pace. “How exactly do you know him, Sarah?” He spits the word out like it’s rotten in his mouth.
“What? Ew. He is a sponsor at the ballet, and he’s always coming onto me and trying to grab my butt when I walk by. The last show, he made a whole bunch of insinuations about how he was going to own me because he’s sponsoring me, and he knew creepy stuff like where my apartment was, so I threw my drink at him and cut up his face and ran away.”
Vincent’s body has relaxed, just a tiny bit.
I twist my head to look up at him. “That’s why Robert was taking me dancing the night you caught me, because I was so creeped out and disgusted after that sleazy jackass did that. Pompous jerk kept telling me how he’s such a ‘powerful man’.” I turn my head and make an exaggerated vomiting noise. “He gives Robert the creeps too, but the director says that the school needs his money, and he always insisted on talking to me after the shows and apparently implied that he would stop the money if I didn’t agree to be directly sponsored by him, which is fucking disgusting, and I told the director that he needs to remember that I am a dancer, not a hooker.”
I shiver, not one of the cold shivers, but the kind that happen and old ladies say it’s because someone must have walked on your grave in the future. “I hate him.”
Vincent tips my chin up and kisses my lips gently. “Thank you, kitten. Did he say anything to you?”
I sigh. “He just made a nasty remark about being involved with you.”
“Hmm.” Vincent nods, like I’ve just said the most sensible thing ever. “I imagine. He’s not a fan of mine.”
“Business?” I ask.
“Lack thereof. He’s a slimy bastard. Even the mafia has standards.” The corner of his lip quirks up, and I giggle, feeling some of the tension fall out of my body. I melt into his arms and lean my head on his chest. Vincent is rubbing gentle circles on my back.
“Sorry,” I tell him.
“I should have gone with you.”
“Vincent?” I ask, looking into his deep brown eyes.
“Hmm?”
“Thank you for saving me. Again.”
He leans down to whisper into my ear, his warm breath tickling down my neck, “Kitten, I’ll always save you. You’re mine.” Then he captures my lips with his for a soul-searing kiss that leaves me breathless.