Page 48 of Ravage God

I waited for the regret to come in, to weigh me down.

All I felt was her.

The soft, warm feel of her in my arms, along with that addictive scent of hers that I didn’t want to fucking end.

There was no regret, at least, not at this moment.

“We have to go,” I said softly into her hair. I felt her tense, and for a brief moment, I wished she would tell me no. That we didn’t have to go. That we could just stay like this.

Fuck, but just like this.

Then she pulled away from me, and it suddenly felt like I was missing something.

My arms hung down by my side, my fists clenching and unclenching as I watched her in the shadow.

I held out my hand. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

She hesitated for a brief moment before placing her hand in mine and letting me pull her out of there.

The walk to my car was made in silence. I kept her hand in mine as we walked, unable to let her go just yet. I opened the door to the passenger side for her.

She looked up and met my eyes briefly as she moved past me to climb inside.

I shut the door behind her and stood there for a moment, trying to catch my bearings.

Fuck, but what had I done?

I climbed inside the car and drove off to her house.

She still hadn’t said anything during the ride. And I didn’t know what she was thinking or feeling. Was she regretful over what happened?

I wouldn’t blame her if she told Valentino.

We pulled up to her house in too short a time. I pulled to a stop at the edge of the property, taking in all the strange parked cars, with the lights inside the house turned on.

“Your father has company? It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

She shrugged. “They weren’t here when I left. It must be Marco and the rest of them here.”

I looked over at her. She said “the rest of them” like she knew there was a line between the rest of Massimo’s men and the traditionalist men her father was a part of.

She probably did. She probably knew more than she let on. I was sure Joseph Gambino wasn’t as careful with his words in his home around her.

“I can’t go back in there. I can’t just sneak in the same way I got out. Not with my room on the top floor. I would have to walk through the door, and my father would know I wasn’t in bed like I was supposed to be.” She turned and looked at me. While there had always been this genuineness about her face that told everyone around what she was feeling or thinking, it seemed her guard was up with me tonight because I couldn’t figure it out.

“Can you take me to Valentino’s?”

“No,” I answered. She frowned. “He’s not… alone.”

She looked away from me briefly. Even with the low lighting, I knew she was blushing. How innocent. And to think of the corrupt things I had just done with her, and in a fucking alley, no less.

Had I been a religious man, I would have believed I was going to hell for all I had done in this life, but somehow, corrupting her felt like the worst of them all.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I said, looking back out to the house, taking in all the cars. I had long ago memorized all the cars the traditionalist men owned, and I recognized all of them but one.

My eyes homed in on the black SUV, making note of the license plate. Who the hell was this? I didn’t know, but I was going to find out soon enough.