Page 36 of Bite Marks

Gloria nodded and slipped out the open doorway, pressing herself against the wall to keep as far from Nunzio as possible.

He propped the door back up and turned to Vanessa, opening his mouth to give her his mind, but his jacket hit him in the face. He gripped the jacket in his fists, threads popping along the back seam. “Vanessa!”

“You’re mad at yourself. You realize that, right?” She slipped back into Italian, her back still to him as she put on her bra.

Nunzio threw his jacket to the ground. He might have messed up by ripping the door, yelling at Gloria, or speaking in the wrong language, but he knew damn well why he was mad, and he knewwhohe was mad at. Certainly not himself. “I’m not mad at myself! I’m mad at you for doing that. What the hell were you thinking?”

She slid her skirt up her legs to her shapely hips. “Why are you so mad, Nunzio? I’m not your woman.”

Her voice was calm but not cold. The heat that he loved so much was right there at the edge of each word, ready to lash out if it needed to. She was holding it back so it didn’t consume her, making her say something she’d regret. Italian women did that all the time. Always let that fire get away from them and run their mouths off a fucking cliff.

Her eyes glanced back at him as she zipped the skirt. “You have no claim. You have norightto be this mad.”

Nunzio pointed out toward the main room and stage. “Those people out there think we’re together!”

“Oh! So is that what that was? You were just acting?” She smirked at him as she slipped her blouse over her shoulders. “We were on a stage, after all. Is that what this is? Is this little temper tantrum an act too? Are you just pretending to be mad?”

“I’m not pretending!” He lunged forward, placing a harsh finger in her face. “I’m livid!”

“Then what was all this shit about avoiding me?” she screamed, getting into his face right back, and the fire flared out to lash at him. “Was that all for show? Who’s watching your phone, Nunzio? Who are we on stage for in our texts?”

Nunzio coiled in, snarling his lips. “That has nothing to do with this.”

“It has everything to do with this, you ox! I would have never been here if you had just talked to me.” Tears welled in her eyes and poured down her soft cheeks. “I would have never been on that stage. I would have …” She turned and cried, holding herself up with her hands on a vanity table.

“You … You should have waited.”

She shook her head, her beautiful red hair swaying back and forth. “I couldn’t wait.”

None of this made any sense. “Why not? There’s nothing for you to do. The Don is off my back, and there’s no family get-togethers. You’re getting your damn painting.”

“I didn’t do this for a fucking painting!” she screamed. She picked up the small table and threw it at him. Eyeliner, lip gloss, hair ties, and a pounds of glitter flew across the small room with the table, but Nunzio just batted it down to the floor as if she’d thrown a fucking tissue box.

“Then what did you do this for? Why? You came all the way over here. You scream your head off at my guys. And then you went up there, and you …”

She rounded on him in a whirlwind of blazing fury. “I degraded myself! For you!”

“Why?” he shouted. None of this made any sense. One more crazy moment, and he was going to rip his hair out. “Why would you do that?”

The inferno dropped away as Vanessa gazed up at him, her eyes pleading with him. “Why? Nunzio, I …”

The broken door flopped to the ground, and a shot rang out.

Nunzio’s legs wobbled for some reason, and he glanced Vanessa up and down.She’s not hurt, right? She wasn’t … She …

Vanessa’s eyes grew wide, panic and fear flooding them like tidal waves.

His knees gave way to his weight, and he collapsed.

Her hands grabbed him, holding him against her, but he fell backward out of her red-stained grip.

Vanessa screamed as darkness rushed in on him from the sides, and her vivid green eyes were the last thing he saw before the darkness took him completely.

EIGHTEEN

NUNZIO

Nunzio’s vision went red. He barely registered the sting of the bullet hole as Vanessa screamed. Lifting his head, he watched as she struggled to free herself from the gunman’s grasp. He knew it was useless; bear shifters were notoriously powerfully built.

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