Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
I ran my hands through my hair and took a deep breath. Then I remembered there was a stranger sitting in my apartment. “I’m going to be in my room.”
He nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll be right here.”
I walked away, closed the door, and flopped face down on the bed. I wished I’d never set foot in a casino.
Then you wouldn’t know Vito.
But I’d have a solid career ahead of me instead of being afraid that I’ll be beaten or killed or fail so badly on the ice that I get fired. Vito was obsessed with me now, but I didn’t know why, and he could change his mind any time.
Are you sure about that?
The way Vito looked at me, the way he’d worshipped me in on the couch, could easily make me think there was more between us than lust and my need for protection, but I couldn’t fool myself. We weren’t in a relationship, and we weren’t going to be. He was a loan shark, and I needed a squeaky-clean reputation.
I reached for the drawer of my nightstand and pulled out a small photo album filled with pictures of my mom and me as a child. I’d lost her when I was fourteen, and I’d gone to stay with my grandparents. I was thankful they’d taken me in and that they let me continue to play hockey. The expense and the time it took was a burden on them, but they made sure I got where I needed to go and had all the proper equipment. I couldn’t really complain, except they were distant and cold, clearly not wanting a teenager in their home. They’d met my all my material needs, but they hadn’t given me affection like my mom had.
I flipped to my favorite picture of my mother, which was taken when I was one and a half or two years old. She was sitting on a camping chair in our tiny square of backyard next to the garden she had taken such good care of.
I wondered what she’d say about the position I was in now. She’d worked full time and went to school to keep me out of a mess like I’d gotten myself into. If I still had her support, would I have been so stupid? Who knew. But one thing I was certain of was that she would have still cared for me no matter how badly I’d screwed up. She would’ve scolded me and told me I was an idiot, but she would’ve loved me and done anything she could to help.
Maybe if I’d been sending money back to her I would’ve been more careful with what I had.
Mama, what would you think of Vito? Would you see past his family ties, his profession?
If anyone could, she would have. She’d been one of the least judgmental people I’d ever been around, but she wouldn’t want me in danger. Vito swore he would protect me, but could he protect me from himself, from his own family, from what would happen if word got out that I was with a man like him?
I wished Mama was here so I could ask her. I didn’t have anyone else. I’d made some friends on the team, like Johnson, but I wasn’t going to tell them how bad my situation had gotten in Vegas, and I wasn’t going to tell them about Vito.
Johnson knew a little bit, but he wasn’t the type of guy a person confessed deep shit to. Even if he would understand, I couldn’t let out any more of my secrets.
I pulled the photo album to my heart, curled around it, and finally let the tears I’d been holding back fall. How did I still miss my mom so much all these years later?
I woke up thinking it was still the middle of the night, but when I found my phone on the floor by the side of the bed, the clock said 6 a.m.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes. How the fuck had I been asleep that long, and where was Vito?
I jumped when a hand touched my shoulder. “You sleep good?”
“Fuck, you scared me.”
“I told you I was coming back.”
I wanted to protest, but he spooned around me, and his warmth had me scooting back against him. My apartment was always cold in the morning.
Vito laid his hand on the photo album. I’d slept the whole night with it held against me. “What’s this?”
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“Come on. Tell me about it.”
“It obviously means a lot to you, or you wouldn’t have had your arms around it when I came to bed.”
“You being in bed with me is what we should talk about.”
“You didn’t seem to mind. You just snuggled back against me.”
I huffed. “I was asleep.”
“I don’t want to argue with you. I told you I’d be back, and I told you I was going to protect you.”