Page 27 of Thorns of Silence
I raised a brow as he resumed driving.They were farmers?
He laughed, making me wish I could hear the sound of it. I met the Leone brothers well after I lost my hearing, so it was impossible to assign a memory to it in my head. With my sister, Grandma, and Papà, I still heard their voices in my head when they signed or mouthed words.
“Not quite. They were part of the underworld too.” His brows furrowed, his eyes on the road. His lips moved, but I couldn’t read them. I tugged on his sleeve so he’d look at me. When our eyes connected, he repeated, “How does one learn to sign?”
I stared at him in surprise but didn’t think anything of it. Many people asked, but they never actually put effort into learning it.There are apps. Classes. Even YouTube.
“Give me the best app and some suggestions for classes,” he demanded.
I typed again, then waited for the voice to play out from the speaker.I’m not sure about Italian Sign Language. Probably best if you ask someone back home.
“Shit, I didn’t know it wasn’t universal.” I shrugged. Most people didn’t. Silence followed for a moment, his attention on the road, then he turned his face my way and mouthed, “Do you sign in Italian Sign Language?” I shook my head. “ASL?” I nodded. “That’s the one I want.” Butterflies took flight in my stomach, and I was fairly certain so did my heart. I would have never pegged Dante Leone as the sweetheart type. “Like I said, text me the best app and class suggestions. You can teach me too.” Then, as if remembering his manners, he added, “Please.”
I nodded, my lips curving into a smile at the memory of him sneaking his number into my phone during our first interaction. Dante was a determined man, reminding me very much of the boy I first crossed paths with when I was eight. The very same boy who took the blame for the vase I’d broken. I still remembered the fear I felt for him and his brother for being our vigilantes.
He tapped my leg, making the memory of our first meeting disappear. “Nix, I need those suggestions.”
I sent a few to his phone, then put mine away.
My breath cut short, noting the surroundings. We were in Santa Monica. Maybe I could ask him to ditch what he had planned and instead take me to Pacific Park? I’d wanted to visit it since I was a little girl, but something always went askew and it never happened.
He stopped at the red light, then turned to face me. “Are you up for a wild ride?” I blinked, confusion clearly on my face. “When I hacked into your phone, I saw the screensaver. You, me, wild rides, a view of the Pacific. What could be better?” I smiled so big that my cheeks hurt. “Although, you’d better change your screensaver to a picture of us.”
My cheeks heated at the way he was looking at me. Possessive. Like he’d kill anyone who dared to take me away. And I liked it. I wanted to be his.
Five minutes later, he parked the car and rushed around to open the door for me. I could feel the buzz of adrenaline rippling through my veins. The clear blue skies shimmered above us and the spring temperatures spoke of summer just around the corner.
He extended his hand and I slipped my fingers into his warm palm as my eyes traveled over his tall frame clad in jeans and a black James Dean T-shirt. He had a bad-boy vibe to him. It was hot.
“You ready for the ride, adrenaline junkie?”
I grinned. I was more than ready.
The hours that followed were amazing, and it was turning out to be one of the best days of my entire life. We went on every ride, the faster, the better. The higher, the better. We danced and ran from one end of the park and back again.
Dante took my hand now, both of us panting as we made a beeline for the West Coaster, the oceanfront steel roller coaster. Dante paused by the Pacific Wheel, glancing at me. “Want to do the Ferris wheel first?”
I snorted, smiling happily. “Lame,” I mouthed, already feeling comfortable making little sounds around him. People assumed I couldn’t voice simple words, but I could. I learned speech before I lost my hearing around my sixth birthday, but I didn’t feel comfortable letting just anyone hear the sound of my voice. I was self-conscious about it since I could no longer hear it myself.
“I thought so too.” He chuckled mischievously, then led me toward our thrill ride.
But just as we made our way, a group of three guys snickered, making exaggerated grimaces and hand gestures. I ignored it, but Dante stopped abruptly, his expression turning dark as he glared at them.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out they were making fun of me, but before I could do or say anything, everything blurred. One second, Dante and those assholes were glaring at each other, and the next, Dante lunged for them. I should have been scared, petrified, but I wasn’t. Instead, I stared at the scene in front of me with flushed cheeks.
I watched with my mouth parted, slightly flattered—or turned on, I couldn’t decide—as Dante beat the idiots to a pulp. The crowd around us was growing, admiring or condemning this glorious man for standing up for me.
Just as he was about to kick one of the guys already clutching his stomach, I approached him and tugged on his sleeve. “Police will come,” I mouthed.
He gave me a tense nod, then kicked the fucker again and grabbed my hand, pulling me away from it all.
“Sorry about that,” he said, facing me. “Let’s go on our next ride.” I shook my head and his expression fell. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I smiled, almost too wide. I reached for my phone and typed quickly.I’m not scared.That was awesome and all the adrenaline I needed. I don’t want to be here when the cops arrive, but that doesn’t mean our date is over.
His dark blue eyes lifted from my phone and shimmered with something thrilling. Something unhinged. Something I liked… a lot.
“Did you like seeing me fight?” he asked slowly. I licked my lips, wishing I could tell him just how good it felt to see him stand up for me. My sister and Isla did it, but no man—including my own papà—had ever dared to. We both stopped, facing each other, our darkness and loneliness circling each other. “Did you?” he repeated, taking my hands and lifting them over his head to clasp around his neck.
