Page 213 of Vicious Saint
“Hendrix.” I poke him in his suited chest. “For the millionth time, Carlo, it’sHendrix.”
“It’s,eh, custom for me.”
“Yes, I know. But we’re not in Sicily anymore, okay? Girls in America like to be referred to by their names, not titles.”
“Okay,signo—” Carlo freezes, then nods. “Hendrix.”
“Great.” I swing around until my back hits the bar and help myself to the beer he’s refusing as I scan the strobe-lit premises.
DJ booth.
Half nakedprofeshdancers.
Hot people bumpin’ and grindin’.
Don’t even get me started on the dolled up outfits…making me glad I chose the red crop top halter and black shorts instead of jeans.
I’m vibing to Skrillex as some cute guy in a button down approaches me, curious grin fresh on his lips.
My pulse races as I straighten off the bar, but not in the way it would if my headandheart weren’t in Brooklyn somewhere walking around with a traitorous asshole.
The wistfulness is short lived because the second the cute guy approaches, Carlo steps in front of me, hand out and pushing him away by his chest. Then, after a not-so-subtle threat in Italian, he tells him to “keep it moving” in English.
Never thought I’d be relieved by such a save, but here I am, feeling like I can breathe again as cute guy about-faces.
Speaking of breathing, that reminds me—time to add some nicotine to oxygen.
“I’m going out for a cigarette!” I shout when Carlo turns to face me, waving my arm to get Archer’s attention. When I get it, I signal my intentions with two fingers tapping my lips.
Archer acknowledges, then glances at Carlo, where he uses a nod to reassure my best friend he’ll stay up my ass.
Eyes roll in the back of my head as I remind myself how helpful it’d be if Archer wasn’t becoming as paranoid as the rest of the guys in my life.
Especially when he also refuses to get to the bottom of it.
“Can I ask you something, Carlo?” I take a pull from my Newport with a heel against the brick wall.
Keeping a close eye on the bouncer that passes us, he responds with, “Sí,signorina.”
What-freaking-ever. I give up on correcting him.
Turns out Sicilian men are nothing if not stubborn.
“Why did my mother hire you?”
Carlo’s eyebrows snap together. “Wha-do-you mean? To protect you…you know that.”
“Yeah…” I inhale the cigarette again, holding in the smoke. “But why you and not one of Vic’s men?”
A few long seconds pass after I exhale before he responds with, “I guess shewants-ehyou to feel more happy with someone she pick.”
“But I’m not happy being followed around by you either…no offense.”
“None taken,signorina.Ho capito.”
The apologetic look on Carlo’s face proves he understands, but the unwavering tone of his voice proves he has no intentions of stopping.
“Will youpleasetell me what’s going on?”
