Page 14 of Cold

I nodded sharply. "Anything."

Vito's green eyes searched me over before he leaned back in his seat. "What's with the cat?"

I looked down at Mr. Whiskers, and my face burst into flames. I'd forgotten how weird it was for someone to carry around a stuffed animal day and night. Before Sergei, I had kept it close at all times, but I hadn't shown people. Now? I forgot I was holding onto it most times.

"Mr. Whiskers helps me feel better."

"That I got from the whole panic attack last night," he said. "But why is it so important to you? I've never seen anyone your age who carries around a toy."

I tugged at my bottom lip. "It's a long story."

"Tell me," he insisted.

I stared at him, but he just looked at me. He really wants to know? I hugged Mr. Whiskers to my chest and sighed.

"My mom gave it to me when I was nine. It was the weekend I found out my dad had died and my birthday was the next day." I held up my cat. "This is what he'd bought me." I tucked the cat against my chest again. "There were a lot of dads that never would have bought something so stupid for their son, I met men like that. My uncles who were all macho and hard with their sons, but my dad was never like that. He said I could have whatever I wanted and he never judged me for anything. He was a good man."

I could still remember him making Sunday breakfast in Sicily. Mom would always be tired on Sundays, so he'd cook and once it was done, we would all sit at our little table or out on the back porch and eat together.

My stomach twisted into knots as I thought about them. I'd tried so hard to keep them out of my head, but every once in a while my family crept back in. I pushed my fingers into my hair and closed my eyes, trying to force the happy images away. But they crashed against the wall I had built and I felt the panic setting in as I squeezed Mr. Whiskers and tried to catch my breath.

"Hey," Vito called my name and I opened my eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," I lied. "I'm fine." I toyed with Mr. Whiskers. "Do...do you know if my mom is okay? I know she must have been terrified when I disappeared."

"I don't know," Vito said. He hesitated. "I could ask around and find out. I'm sure Amadeo would know for sure."

I smiled at him. "Thank you. You're cranky, but you're nice, Vito."

The man growled. "Take that back."

I laughed. "Nope!"

Vito Bianchi was a scary man, but...not to me. There was more to him than what met the eye and even though he put on such a terrifying facade, he was being nice to me in ways that no one had in years.

And I was becoming addicted to that feeling.

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