Page 21 of Caesar DeLuca
“It’s a possibility. If Carisi would learn I’m here. He’d assume you’re affiliated with me much in the same way I assumed you were affiliated with him. It could mean real trouble for you.”
“I don’t want to play this game anymore.” She doesn’t even attempt to pretend she’s not afraid or intimidated by my words—her voice shakes and she slams down her cards, moving to get up off the sofa.
It’s like a fear switch has been flipped on inside of her, and now she’s terrified.
Just when I thought she couldn’t pique my curiosity any more than she already has. Why would a woman at peace, living alone like this be so instantly afraid? It’s not a normal kind of fear; it’s a deep fear that keeps you up at night.
I can tell just by looking at her.
Ariana is hiding from someone. She’s afraid of this person.
I half rise along with her, my fingers enclosing around her wrist to stop her. I force her attention onto me, our eyes connecting. “You have my word,” I say. “Once this snowstorm ends and I leave, I will make sure nobody comes after you. I’ll make sure your place is protected. Alright?”
She shakes her head and tugs her wrist out of my grasp. “I just want things to go back to normal. I want the snow to stop falling and for you to go back to your world. I don’t want anything to do with you and your lifestyle.”
“You’re afraid of something. Tell me what it is.”
“Caesar, I’m not answering any more of your questions. This was a mistake?—”
“Is it the man who these clothes belong to? Some ex-boyfriend? He after you?”
She can only shake her head. Her breath’s quickened. Her skin’s flushed hot. I reach for her again and she shirks my advances. For a couple seconds, it’s a duel we engage in—me trying to grip her and her trying to brush off my grip. In the end, I win, catching her by the elbow to hold her where she is.
There’s no denying the feeling invading my chest like some kind of barbaric monster. It’s got a thirst for violence and a determination that’s never ending. It’s the same kind of fury I feel when plotting revenge for Carisi and his men and garbage like Rocky.
Though I might seem cool on the outside, I’m boiling on the inside.
Just the thought that Ariana is hiding out from some fucking ex-boyfriend who terrifies her this much…
Let me get my hands on him for five seconds and I’ll rip his bones out of their sockets…
“Ariana, tell me what it is,” I say. “I’ll take him out for you. Consider it a thank you for all you’ve done. Saving my life.”
“Caesar, let go of me!”
Her desperate plea finally pierces the thick fog of violence that’s surrounded me. I blink and realize that she’s not only terrified of the man she’s hiding from—she’s terrified of me.
I let go and step back. She takes a deep, relieved breath then hurries to collect the scattered cards on the couch.
“You must know by now I’m not going to hurt you?” I say. “If I was, I would’ve had a hundred different chances by now?—”
“Good night.”
And with that, Ariana spins on her heel and flees from the room.
9
ARIANA
Caesar DeLuca terrifies me.
I don’t know how else to explain my feelings about him than to sum it up as fear. His presence, his mannerisms, his words. The hard, intense stare downs he gives. Even when he’s seemingly trying to behave like a normal human being around me. Something about him still sets nerves aflutter inside my stomach.
I feel like I’m under a microscope and I can’t tell if it’ll be my downfall or if Caesar DeLuca belongs in another category altogether.
He’s a puzzle I have no clue how to solve—he’s cold and harsh and then he’ll say or do something that makes me more confused than I already am. He’ll grill me about the men’s clothes I’ve provided him like a jealous lover, then in no uncertain terms he’ll tell me I never should’ve helped him. Danger could be on my doorstep because I have.
It’s the bluntness with which he conducts himself, like he’s wholly unaware of how to censor himself. He speaks what’s on his mind and he doesn’t mince words.
