Double Blind (12 page)

Then I see him.

Carmine.

Oh, fuck. This can’t be good.

He unfolds his arms, giving me a black look as I enter the station.

“Thank you, Officer Brown. I owe you one.”

“No problem, Carmine.” The policeman shakes his head at me and turns back around.

Carmine normally groomed hair looks slightly tousled, as if he just woke up. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt, looking out of his element in casual clothes.

“Quite an interesting morning you’ve given me.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say in a quiet voice.

He takes my arm, his grip a little biting as he leads me out of the police station. Once we’re out of earshot, he speaks.

“You’re fucking lucky he owed me a favor. Oh, and paying off the store department people is going to come out of
your
fucking end. How could you do something so stupid?” Carmine leads me to his car and opens the door. “Well?” he barks.

I flinch from the anger in his voice and beseech his eyes. “I was upset over our conversation last night,” I say in measured voice as I return his stare. “And I—I have issues. I used to have a stealing problem.”

The anger on his face doesn’t quite disappear. “Jesus,” he says after a beat. Then he lets out a long sigh. “Well, get in.”

“Where are we going?” I ask as I slip inside.

“My place.” He slams the door a little harder than necessary and enters the driver’s door. “You wanted my attention and you fucking got it.”

His place? Things are looking up.

“I swear to God, I didn’t want to upset you. I’m
really
, really sorry.”

He shakes his head as he pulls out of the parking lot. “You’re fuckin’ lucky you’re a woman. If any one of my guys pulled that crap, they’d be missing several teeth.”

Jesus. I’ve never heard him speak this way, but then again, I’ve never seen him pissed off.

I grip the armrests as the car as he guns it forward. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying, ‘sorry!’” He pounds the steering wheel in frustration.

I grimace as he leads us into Jersey, into a nice residential area where he stops in front of a home with a neatly trimmed lawn.

“This is where you live?” I expected him to live in an apartment, like Vince.

“Yeah, so?” He pulls into the driveway and yanks on the parking brake. When the engine dies, he leans back and momentarily closes his eyes. “Goddamn, I’m tired.”

“I’m sor—”

The sharp look he gives me makes me stop abruptly. “Get inside,” he says in a gritty voice.

Well, I’ve made it inside his house. Tony will be pleased. What does it matter about the circumstances? I scramble from the car and walk up the driveway as Carmine glowers at me. It’s such a quaint, unassuming house. Just like him, I guess.

Carmine steps in front of me to unlock the door and then he shoves it open. “In.”

I quickly duck inside. What strikes me immediately is the mismatching, old furniture. It’s old and antique looking, but some of it is in bad shape. Stuffing poking out of holes. All of it looks like it used to belong to his mother and he’s had a hard time letting them go.

“Have a seat.” Carmine gestures towards the couches. He runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head as he walks past me into the kitchen.

I sink into a couch that looks the least frayed while Carmine does something in the kitchen—making a pot of coffee, perhaps? I smell it as he pours two cups in white, chipped mugs.

When I see the lines under his eyes, a swell of guilt rises in my stomach. He sets the mug down in front of me and sits beside me, closing his eyes and sipping.

This is an opportunity. To snoop. To get closer to him.

His arm stretches over the head of the couch and I run my fingers over his hand. His eyes fly open.

“Carmine, thanks for everything. You didn’t have to help me out like that.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighs.

Something has been nagging at me this whole time. “How did you even know I was there?”

“I have connections. When one of the officers realized that one of my people was arrested, he called me immediately.”

I wrap my hands around the mug and take a sip. Chocolate mocha with a tiny bit of sweetness. It fills me up with warmth, and I feel better. I stare into its dark depths as I talk to him. “You were right about me.”

“About what?” he says, a faint note of irritation in his voice.

“I
am
scared all the time. Scared of Tony and what he’ll do to me if I don’t make enough at the casino to cover my family’s debts. He told me what would happen.”

I hear the sound of his head turning towards me and his hand drops down to lightly stroke my bare shoulder. I squeeze my eyes shut as my body inwardly recoils.

Don’t
.

He shakes his brown head. “You don’t need to worry about Tony.” Firm fingers squeeze my shoulder. “
Hey
,” he says in a tone that makes my head turn towards him. “I mean that.”

“I do anyway.”

I can feel his eyes on me, searching my body for clues that I might be lying, but it’s the truth. Tony terrifies me. He just doesn’t know the real reason why.

“You’re such a delicate little bird, aren’t you? I still can’t believe what you did,” he says in a thundering voice.

I am disgusted with myself. “Me too. I’ve never really been caught before, but I’ve never had so much stress. It’s mostly under control.” My voice fades as his lips thin. “I have problems.”

“So do I, hon. That doesn’t mean you get to do something stupid that gets you time.”

My breath shudders when I inhale. “I was upset.”

A smile cracks over his face. “Over me?”

I’m embarrassed and afraid of the confident smile on his face. His hand curls around my shoulder as my face burns. My heart hammers as he strokes my bare arm. As uncomfortable as it is, as much as I wish another man was holding me, I allow him to pull me into his chest. My dress slips up my thighs as he pulls me over his lap. My heart jack-knifes against my chest, blood racing. I can see every line on his face, deepened by his smile.

“Is this what you want, Adriana?”

No, I want Vince.
I don’t say a word. Let him draw his own conclusions.

A low growl rumbles in the back of his throat as his hand sweeps up my neck, his thumb gently massaging my jumping vein. My hands are frozen, but I force myself to touch him. I can look through his clothes at the same time. They flatten against his muscular chest and move over his lapels, down his neck and inside his jacket. His body isn’t as lean as Vincent’s, but it feels smooth. Powerful. He lets out a chuckle that I feel in the tips of my fingers. His face follows me, seeking my lips.

“Ah, all you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” His lips move along my jaw.

“I tried,” I breathe.

He pulls back and looks at me seriously. “Yes, you did. My apologies for not believing you.” He strokes the side of my face, tucking away strands of hair. He sucks in breath when his lips reach my ear. “I always liked you, Adriana. From the first moment I saw you. I thought you were beautiful.”

Beautiful. He thinks I’m beautiful.

I’m not. I’m a monster to use a man like this, to manipulate his emotions to get what I want—which inevitably will lead to his death. I don’t want him to give me compliments, or hear about his problems with his mother, or anything else that humanizes him. I don’t want to feel anything for him.

Already teary eyed, I turn my head into his and his lips fall against mine. He takes my head in his hands as his soft lips kiss mine. I don’t feel anything as he kisses me, except a burning betrayal of Vince. It’s wrong. I love him. Carmine’s a nice man. He’s an attractive, sweet guy, but I just don’t have feelings for him.

But that’s not the point.

Pretend he’s Vince.

Without seeing his face, it’s easy. My hands travel up and down his body, up his hard, lean muscles, around his flat chest, searching for a bump somewhere. A wireless microphone.

God, I miss Vince. I give up on the search and bury my fingers in his short hair, deepening our kiss as he plays with the shoulder straps of my dress. I break away from him and kiss his bristly jawline, imaging Vince’s face, his lips parted in bliss. I plant kisses under his jaw, right under his ear. Low laughter shakes through his chest.

“You’re a vixen.”

Carmine’s voice snaps me out of it and I pull back, his arms still around me. He regards me like an art connoisseur analyzing a sculpture. His actions are perfectly measured and controlled, unlike Vince. His blue eyes burn brighter and his finger moves along my bottom lip, teasing as he leans in closer.

A loud, banging sound at the front door makes me spring away from him.

“
Open the fucking door!
”

Both of us recognize that voice.

“Oh, no.” I give Carmine a terrified look. “Vince.”

Carmine gently moves me from his lap and stands up, looking unworried but determined. His hair is a little disheveled as he makes a beeline for the door.

Oh,
fuck
. This is going to get ugly.

He unlocks the door and opens it, moving his body in front of the crack. “What?”

“I know she’s here. Open the
fucking
door.”

Vincent’s deep voice fills the living room. My heart soars at the sound of his voice, reminding me how much I can’t stand to be away from him.

“I don’t take orders from you, Cesare.”

He takes a deep breath. I can hear him reining in his anger. “I heard what happened. I just want to see if she’s all right.”

“She’s fine.” The smirk appears in his voice. “More than fine.”

The door creaks as he opens it wider, so that the sliver of Vince can see me sitting on Carmine’s couch. Vincent’s dark eyes zero in on me, and then he bursts inside, shoving aside Carmine like a bear swatting a cub. I have to fight the joy I feel when I see him, because it’s bad for him to be here.

Vince stands on the other side of the coffee table. His face is lined with fatigue, and his hair grew a little longer. He looks me over and takes in my appearance, my frazzled hair and the strap of my dress pushed down my shoulder. Then he looks at Carmine, who shrugs with a shit-eating grin.

“What the fuck is this?” he bellows to Carmine, who looks supremely unconcerned. He gazes back at me, his eyes full of poison.

“It’s really none of your fucking business.” Carmine says in an icy voice as he walks in between me and Vincent.

The betrayal on Vince’s face is like a knife through my heart. “You’re with this piece of shit now?”

“Careful, asshole.” Carmine finally shoves Vince’s chest.

He looks so wounded that he doesn’t even try to fight back. His eyes never leave my face as desperate hope keeps him from lashing out.

I swallow hard under his tortured stare. “Vince, we broke up. It’s none of your—”

Pain momentarily fills his face. I’ve hurt him. Again. I hate myself.

“You fucking bitch!” He takes a step towards me, but Carmine grabs the back of his jacket and yanks him back.

“
Easy
.”

“Vince!” I can’t believe he’d call me that, but of course he would. He thinks that Carmine and I are—

“You lied to me,” he says in a deadly voice as Carmine holds him back. “I let you go so you could have a normal life with a normal guy. The second you’re free, you run into the arms of another guy who’s connected?
What the fuck, Adriana!
”

“Vince—” My eyes well with tears.

It’s not true! I love you, I love you!

“It just happened. I didn’t plan—”

“Fuck you!” His red face crumples with pain and rage. “You ripped my
fucking
heart out!”

Carmine shoves Vince’s chest hard as he backs out of the room. “All right, that’s enough.”

The disgust contorting his face makes me think that he’ll unleash his wrath on Carmine, and I’m right. He whirls around faster than Carmine can react, and he plows his fist into Carmine’s jaw. I stand up, screaming.

Carmine explodes upward, recovering so quickly that it catches Vince by surprise. He hammers him in his stomach. Once. Twice. Vince lets out guttural groans and brings down his elbow, stabbing Carmine’s back viciously.

“STOP! Both of you!”

Carmine drops to the floor and I rush over to him before Vince can kick him. He stares at me for a moment with so much venomous hatred that I’m sure he’ll hit me, but he lowers his fists. I wrap my arms around Carmine’s head and Vince turns away from us, disgusted. He walks right out of the door, and I get one last look of his face twisted in pain.

I did this to him.

The door slams shut and I turn my attention back to Carmine, even though I want nothing more than to chase after Vince. “Are you okay?”

I stroke his brown hair. His face is red, but at least he’s not bleeding. He grabs my arm and kisses it, giving me a painful grimace. “I’ll be fine.”

He stands up effortlessly, as if he gets into fights all the time. He locks the door, breathing a sigh. “See you later, asshole,” he mutters.

When the sound of Vince’s car peels away, Carmine joins me and places a tentative hand on my back.

“You okay?”

I shake my head. “It’s been a long day.”

“Is that true?” he asks. “What he said about why you broke up?”

My shoulders shake. “Carmine, I had to tell him something to get him off my back. I tried telling him the truth, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. Now I’ve made things worse.”

I feel sick when he leans in and plants a kiss on my head.

“Don’t feel bad about it. He’s just a puffed-up, angry jerk because he lost a great girl. His feelings are not your problem anymore.”

I’m trying to do the right thing and spare Vincent. So why does the right thing make me feel like shit? I would be just as hurt if I was in his position.

So make it worthwhile. Remember why you’re here.

Even if it makes you feel dead inside.

CARMINE

The waves roll over the golden sand, the foam hissing as it pools around my feet. I curl my toes into the muddy-like sand with a boyish glee that has stayed with me for years. I walk alone, my footprints marking the sand as waves dart forward like white fingers on the shore. It’s a great day to be on the beach. There are families and kids milling about everywhere.