Page 29 of Mabilia

“A little higher,” she whispers.

“Thatyou will have to wait for. I’m not risking anyone else seeing what you look like when I make you come apart screaming my name,” I tell her. “Now, eat your food. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can start.”

“My mom wants you to come over for dinner. But you don’t have to. I mean, I don’t expect you to,” Mabilia says, changing the subject. Her fork twirls around the pasta on her plate.

“When?”

“Friday,” she says.

“Do you want me to?” I ask her.

“I don’t want you to if you don’t want to.”

“Mabilia, do you want me to have dinner with your family?” I repeat.

“I want my family to like you as much as I do. I want them to see how good you are and that you’re not a threat,” she says.

“Okay then, I’ll come to dinner.”

“You know, not many men can say they’ve walked out of a room after being confronted by my father or grandfather.” She smiles.

“I can believe that,” I admit. “I Googled love at first sight.”

“And what’d you find out?”

“That it’s usually one-sided, or a chemical reaction.”

“It’s not one-sided. And it’s not just a chemical reaction either. I don’t know how I know. I just do.” Her smile widens. “I swear I’m not a stage-five clinger, but if you try to leave me, I’m going to chain you up in the dungeon and keep you forever.”

“I’m not leaving you,” I tell her. I have no plans to leave her. I don’t know how I know that either. But she’s it for me.

Chapter Nineteen

My hand reaches into my bag, my fingers wrapping around my pistol. I don’t need to hear them to recognize the three men that are waiting by Tommy’s car in the parking lot of the diner.

“Ah, Tommy, I left my phone on the table. Could you run back in and get it for me?” I ask. I need to get him away fromhere. These guys are after me, not him, and I can’t even fathom the thought of Tommy being hurt.

“Yeah, okay.” He laughs dryly. “Who are they?” He nods his head towards his car.

“Ukrainians,” I hiss. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Like fuck, you will.” Tommy steps in front of me.

“We just want the girl. Give her to us and there won’t be any trouble,” one of the men says in a deep Ukrainian accent.

“Yeah, that’s not happening. If you have any brain cells in that thick head of yours, you’d leave and never look in her direction again.” Tommy’s voice is hard, firm. A tone I’ve never heard from him before.

When the guy lunges forward, I lift my hand. The bullet goes right through my bag and into the middle of his head. I’m quick to fire another one at the second guy’s chest. The third, I hit in the kneecap. “Tell whoever you are working for that if you want to get me, you better bring everything you got.”

Sirens blare in the distance. I turn to Tommy. “Mabilia, give me the gun,” he says.

“Why?” I’m numb as I pull the little 9mm from my bag and hand it to Tommy.

I watch as he wipes it down with his shirt and then wraps his own hand around the grip. He presses his finger on the trigger and aims at the guy I left groaning on the ground.

“What the hell, Tommy?” I scream at the same time another gunshot sounds off. The guy isn’t moving anymore.

Tommy doesn’t respond as he pulls his keys out of his pocket and hands them to me. “Give me your phone. Quick,” he urges.

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