Page 64 of Consumed By the Mafia

Ryoma adjusted his hold until he had a single arm curved almost loosely around her back and started them forward. “I’ll stick with the one I drove. Get home, Benny.”

Ryoma’s ears continued to ring with the startling slap of Abby’s hand connecting with Romeo’s face. He felt as though he were sitting on a live wire for all the adrenaline still firing through him. Romeo’s biting words had been unexpected, and Ryoma told himself it was the shock more than the words themselves that had struck him. But if those words hadsurprised him, then he’d been even less prepared for Abby’s response—for the way she’d lashed out indefenseof him. Her immediate counter had stunned him, and that was when Ryoma knew.

He didn’t yet know how the fucking hell he was going to make it work. If he even could. He only knew that he’d been absolutely right about Abby being a rare kind of woman. As strong as she was beautiful, and fearless in a wild way that would keep him on his toes.

He’d fucking fallen in love with her.

The family was going to rip out his insides for that.

“Make sure you find a nice quiet, obedient woman. One who respects the way things should be,”his father’s voice dragged up from his memory, taunting and challenging as it so often did.

Ryoma shoved the memory back down with an internal snarl. Even as a teen he’d known he had little interest in some traditional, demure housewife. He’d never been blind to the way his mother was treated. He’d only believed himself powerless to stop it.

His gaze dropped to one of the visible peonies on his arm as he idled at an intersection, the red from the traffic light making the painted flower glow in his mind’s eye. He’d made too many mistakes in his youth. There were things he could never make right. Scars that would never heal. But he didn’t have to keep making mistakes, or letting the wounds of his past guide his choices.

“Did I make things worse?” Abby asked, her voice suddenly penetrating the quiet of the SUV.

Ryoma blinked, her quiet words drawing him back into focus. “Why would you think that?”

She released a humorless laugh. “I smacked Romeo De Salvo. I’m sort of surprised he didn’t shoot me.”

Ryoma doubted she had any idea how accurate that fear was. “Yeah, I’d recommend you not do that again. Ever.”

“So I did.” Abby sighed and slumped against the passenger window.

He moved a hand from the wheel and curled his fingers over her thigh. “No, baby girl. I just meant that was dangerous and you probably shaved a decade off my life, so for both our sakes, you shouldn’t do it again.” He squeezed gently. “You didn’t make anything worse.”

She was silent long enough for him to turn onto Mikey’s street. “I know I don’t know the story,” she finally whispered, “but he shouldn’t have said that. I don’t care if they hate me. I can’t stand them taking it out on you.”

Ryoma slowed as he approached the driveway. “Abby. I’m the reason you’re in their life. They’re still mad.”

“It’s stupid. You’re actually not.”

His lips twitched and he retracted his hand in order to make the tighter turn. Security buzzed him in and within a couple of minutes they’d parked and were once again on foot, walking up to Mikey’s guest house. He pulled the door open for her, locked it behind them for all the good that did, and trailed after her into the main sitting room. An unusual, foreign impulse had sparked inside him. It was probably only fair, but he didn’t know how to embrace it.

Abby dug her phone charger out of the case Mikey had delivered that morning and proceeded toward the kitchen to plug it in.

Ryoma arched a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to be making a call?”

She paused, her shoulders tightening for a moment, and set everything down. “No way I’m calling her this late for anything non-monumental. I’ll deal with that headache in the morning, over coffee.”

He moved up and pulled her into the circle of his arms, turning her into his chest. “This Mercer woman’s a pain in the ass, I take it?”

Abby made a face. “Let’s just say we don’t get along.”

Ryoma rumbled and lowered his lips to her forehead. “Can’t say I understand.”

She swatted his chest. “Don’t be an idiot,” she said, her tone light.

He grinned against her skin and straightened a little. Her eyes were such a bright, striking shade of blue. A beautiful pop of color against the contrast of her paler skin and her dark hair. The flush that so easily bloomed across her cheeks—the one he knew carried down her neck and onto her chest—only added to her appeal. His hands spread over her back. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

Abby tilted her head back, her flush darkening. “Ryoma…”

He kissed her cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered into her skin. He felt her breath hitch and lifted a hand to her nape. “You shouldn’t have done it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the gesture.”

She exhaled slowly and stretched her arms around his torso. “He shouldn’t have said what he said. Whatever he was referencing … obviously that’s a sore subject.” Her grip tightened and she adjusted to lean her head against his shoulder. “I don’t know how they can claim to care about you and turn around and talk about you like that.”

Fuck.Ryoma tightened his arm around her waist, his other hand lifting into her hair. “These aren’t the kind of people who get warm and fuzzy with very many people,” he said. “Being mad or disappointed with me doesn’t help.” He pressed his lips into her hair, inhaled her scent, and felt the hesitation inside him unlock.

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