Page 226 of Vicious Saint
“So…you go to Riverside Prep,” she comments, handing me the box of boots.
Not sure why, but the mention of my school sends tiny needles creeping up my spine. Not like it’s odd, the girl just saw my I.D., but I can’t shake the feeling she wasn’t supposed to know that. If I had to guess why? Carlo’s endless paranoia.
Leerie doesn’t seem much older than me, though, so could very well be my own suspicion she’s been acquainted with the star quarterback.
“Unfortunately I do.”
“Why do you say that? I know someone who used to go there. She loved it.”
“Must’ve been born on the right side of the tracks, then.”
“I see. And you weren’t?”
Needles go from creeping to clawing their way to my neck, making the hairs along the back of it stand at attention.
Flirting or not, these are way too many personal questions without even being taken to damn dinner.
So, while maintaining my composure, I hike my chin toward the exit. “I should get going.”
“Of course.” Leerie steps aside. “Nice meeting you, Hendrix.”
“Yeah…same to you.”
I can still feel Leerie’s eyes when I hang the unwanted dresses onto the rack, all the way till I’m out of the dressing room where I find Carlo toe touching the “do not cross” line on the rug.
“Che succede?” he asks, glaring behind me.
“Nothing happened, I’m fine.”
No chance in hell will I be drawing more of Carlo’s attention, not when I’m most likely over thinking.
Between searching through necklaces I never liked enough to purchase, we spent about another hour in the store, the entire time with me sneaking glances over my shoulder for signs of Leerie.
She was nowhere to be found, which I figured, because people hit on people without stalking them after.
Unless your name is Saint Lavell.
“I take-ehyou home now.” Carlo ushers me into the back seat of his Escalade, and I nod in response.
A few seconds pass with Carlo sitting quietly in the front seat, truck still in park, before he reaches behind the collar of his button down and pulls a yellow gold chain over his head. Turning to face me, he holds it out where I see a small horn pendant dangling from the bottom of it. Or should I say cornicello, a similar concept to the Nazar that’s said to ward off bad juju.
“For you,signorina.”
It’s shiny, a little gaudy, definitely a lot expensive.
Not my usual style, since I prefer white golds, but there’s a cultural vibe to it drawing my attention.
Shaking my head, I tell him as gently as possible, “I can’t accept that.”
“Per favore…” Carlo pleads with a smile, bringing it closer. “It-eh, would mean-ehso much.”
Well, how the hell could I refuse now?
Scooting to the edge of the seat, I lower my head so he can put the necklace on me. “Grazie mille,” I thank him. “I love it.”
“Prego.” Carlo winks. “It’s-eh…bad luckno to wear.”
“Then why are you giving it to me?”
