Page 11 of Forbidden Dark Vows

And, like an idiot, I agreed to help him.

I told myself that if Ruby was the woman for my best friend, then who was I to stand in the way of true love? And if she wasn’t…

Ruby Jackson wasn’t hard to find, especially when we dangled the name Alessandro Russo in front of the manager of the skating rink. He told us about Ruby’s other jobs, and when we learned that she worked in the library, the rest was easy. Alessandro wanted to barge straight in there, bribe the manager to let her off her shift and impress her with a trip to the Skydeck Chicago Willis Tower and dinner.

The limited-edition book was my idea. If anything was going to speak to Ruby Jackson’s heart it was her favorite love story.

“Great. Yeah, fantastic.” He downs his second drink.

“What did she say about the book?”

He grins at me. “Gotta give it to you, man, that was ace. She was … lost for words.”

My stomach twists. It’s what I wanted to hear, right? I wanted her to like the book. In fact, I want her to treasure it for the rest of her days, pulling it off the bookshelf and rereading it over and over until she’s old and gray. I want to be old and gray myself with that image still fresh in my mind.

I can’t quite put my finger on it, though, but something about his attitude this morning feels a little off, and my hackles are up.

“Where did you take her?”

“We had dinner at the new restaurant on State Street. You’ll never guess who was there. Kurt Russell.” He doesn’t wait for me to guess. “He came over and spoke to me like I’d known him all my life.”

Me. I. My.

This is Alessandro all over. But I’m noticing it more now, and I don’t know if that’s my bad or his.

He sets the empty tumbler down on the desk and goes to the door. “I’ll round up the others and wait in the lobby for you.” Then he’s gone.

Surprisingly,Great America is busy with people who want to experience the thrill of the world’s tallest carousel and the three-armed Ferris Wheel in the snow. The aromas of hot dogs, barely fried onions, and cotton candy follow us around along with the klaxons and tinny tunes of the rides in motion.

Alessandro wants to ride everything. He’s wearing his trademark leather coat and a Russian hat that only he could pull off, lapping up the appreciative stares of everyone who recognizes him.

We ride the rollercoaster, but once isn’t enough for him today. He lines up behind a young couple who are holding hands and huddling together for warmth, stomping their feet to stop their toes from freezing.

“What’s he doing?” Ronnie elbows me in the ribs through my coat.

When I check out the line, Alessandro has sidled in between the couple, turned his back on the man and is stepping forward with the young woman to share a car with her. He sits a little too close, his arm pressed up against hers. I think I must be the only one who has noticed, but then the woman’s boyfriend walks away, head down, hands stuffed deep inside his pockets.

I want to go after him, tell him that it doesn’t mean anything, that Alessandro will go find someone else to ride with next time, but they’re futile excuses. She chose him. She chose Alessandro because he didn’t give her the choice.

I ball my gloved hands into fists and walk off to grab a hamburger and a coffee.

He did the same to Ruby. He didn’t give her a choice, and now that he has no doubt spent the night with her, he’s out here looking for the next thrill.

Ruby Jackson isn’t anyone’s next thrill.

But I have the strongest suspicion that Alessandro hasn’t been entirely honest with me. He hasn’t gloated about how many times they fucked when he took her back to his room or elaborated on what position she liked best or how loudly she screamed when she had an orgasm. By the time I’ve finished my hamburger and tossed the wrapper into the trash can, I’ve convinced myself that Ruby turned him down, and the klaxon blaring from the bumper cars nearby doesn’t even rattle my nerves and make me jump.

While I’ve been eating, the snow has started falling in thick fluffy clumps, settling on my overcoat and turning the park into a winter wonderland. I tilt my face towards the sky and wonder if Ruby is doing the same. Or perhaps she’s curled up in an armchair in front of a roaring fire with her rare edition ofWuthering Heights.

Ronnie comes running over and almost lands on his ass when his feet slide out from under him. “Alessandro got into a fight. He’s leaving.”

“A fight?” Maybe that guy didn’t walk off and forget about his girlfriend after all.

“Yeah. It’s nothing. He knocked the guy over, but he says he’s getting out of here.” Ronnie is already backing away, and I follow him towards the entrance.

Alessandro is outside, making footprints in the settling snow. I call out to him, but he doesn’t break stride or glance over his shoulder.

“Let the others know that we’re leaving,” I say to Ronnie. “I’ll go after Alessandro.”

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