Page 95 of Never Say Never

I miss Paul.

The thought came out of nowhere, fleeting but lingering. As much as I tried to throw it away, it lingered. I jumped out of bed, ripped off my clothes and made my way over to the dresser that was pushed against the far wall. There were clothes stocked in it, some of them my own that I recognized from my place, but others were new. I had no doubt Paul had purchased them.

I bypassed those and went for familiarity. As I slipped into a pair of gray sweatpants and a dark blue T-shirt, I couldn't help but to feel odd. My usual attire was a suit and tie. I was used to those things, but now I didn't have a reason to wear them. I knew I could have, but part of me didn't have the strength to do that either.

After taking a look at myself in the mirror, I stepped out of the bedroom. Paul stood in front of me, tugging his door closed quietly before he turned and jumped. I stared at him. I still wasn't used to his new look. The dark hair, dark eyes, and cool demeanor weren't the Paul I had gotten to know and appreciate. This was a different man. I knew I shouldn't still be attracted to him physically, but I was even more into his looks now than before. He looked… comfortable. Real.

"Good morning," Paul said.

I woke up from my haze. Had I been staring? When I grunted in response, Paul's face tightened before he tried to slap on a smile. It held on loosely.

"Did you sleep okay?"

"Do we have to make small talk?" I asked.

The smile fell away completely. "I guess not. Are you hungry? I was going to make something to eat and I figured?—"

"I can cook for myself."

"Oh. Okay. Let me know if you guys need anything."

I stared at Paolo. Part of me felt bad for being so abrupt with him, but what was I supposed to do when there was a mountain of pain and resentment inside of me? He'd lied to me, betrayed me. I still didn't even know if I had simply been a mark for him or if he genuinely cared. Slowly, I was starting to see that he did care about the girls. That couldn't be faked, could it? Besides, we'd been here for a while now. If Paolo wanted to kill us, he could have done that already. I was starting to wonder if he was telling the truth about bringing us here to protect us. Or was I still being naive?

"I'll leave you alone," Paolo said, turning on his heels and heading for the kitchen.

I stayed planted where I was, but I still looked after him. My chest gave another painful throb that seemed to reach through me and right to my bones. I wanted to catch up with him, to hold his hand like we used to, and feel that closeness that I so desperately missed.

No, he's a liar and a Vitale. You can not get weak now. Once this is all over, the plan remains the same. All of these people need to go down. All of them.

The Acetos, the Triads, the Vitales; each family was as bad as the next. If I let one of them go, I might as well let all of them go. And if I did that, then I might as well quit my job. How could I keep doing it if I knew I'd let these people get away with literal murder?

I dragged my feet down the hall and made my way to the kitchen. The room was quiet, only the sound of Paolo cooking and singing under his breath filled the space. I looked around for the girls.

"Where are Navy and Nyra?"

"They're in the room with Shelly. Both of them are tired so I suggested a breakfast in bed day. I was going to make them waffles and bring it down to them."

I stiffened. "I can do it."

Paolo stopped and turned to face me. "What?"

"I can take breakfast to them."

He threw the bowl in his hands into the sink and closed the space between us in two long strides. My hand shot out on instinct to stop him, but Paolo was faster. His hand wrapped around my throat, his body pressed against mine. My eyes flew open. As much as I hated him, the heat from his body flooded my own, and I found myself shifting against him. That contact, that friction, that desire and tension that lived between us was still alive.

Why wouldn't it die?

"Don't you ever suggest that I would hurt Navy and Nyra," Paolo growled.

"I didn't?—"

His grip tightened. "You did. I have never done anything other than look out for and care about them. If you think you can take my girls away from me, you're dead wrong."

I glared at him. "Those are my girls."

"And mine," he snapped. "So the fuck what? You're pissed off at me, I get it. But I am swallowing shit from all sides and I am sick and tired of it. Those two are the only reason I'm able to keep going right now. So I'm going to talk to them, I'm going to spoil them, I'm going to check on them and make sure they're okay. If you have a problem with that"—he leaned forward, his lips pressed against my ear—"then we can talk about it. If you think you're going to run over me though, I'm going to fuck you into a mattress and get your head situated correctly so that it's no longer up your ass. Got it?"

The shiver that ran through my body felt like it would never end. Paolo pulled back, his dark eyes staring into mine.