Vincent (Made Men, #2)(19)

While Maria closed her eyes, feeling bad all over again, Sal began laughing once more, clearly replaying what had happened in his mind.

Lucca wrapped his arm around his sister, dragging them back to the gym. “What have I told you about hitting harder?”

*

Lake watched Maria walk through the door again. I knew it. A second after that thought, the two men walked through the door, staying close behind. Holy shit, they are bodyguards.

A million thoughts ran through her head as she watched them walk up the bleachers. She had no clue who she was sitting by; she only knew she didn’t want to sit next to her. Clearly, anyone worth guarding must be a target. I don’t want to be next to a freaking target!

“Get ready to scream. Nero’s next,” Adalyn whispered to her.

Lake swallowed at thinking about Maria, feeling as if at any second rounds of bullets were going to be shot in her direction. She looked around, seeing everyone preparing to jump up and down, and then she realized they were surrounded by the mob sea. Whoever the girl was, she was pretty fucking important.

She heard the man come back over the microphone. “Nero—”

Lake put her weight to her feet to stand.

“Caruso.”

You have got to be shitting me. She blinked her eyes over and over as she listened to the howling. She couldn’t see anything except black standing in front of her, because she couldn’t quite make it to her feet.

Lake looked over at the tall, golden blonde who was practically royalty. It all finally made sense, and she knew exactly who Maria was. The mob princess of Kansas City.





Chapter Fourteen Staring Into the Eyes of a Demon

Lake sat uncomfortably in the bleachers, unable to stop fidgeting. Adalyn was going to get a nice piece of her mind when they were alone, since she deliberately hadn’t said who they were. She has got to be shitting me if she thinks I’m going to Nero’s party.

It wasn’t much longer before they all stood to their feet to cheer for the big guy, Amo. All she had left to do was cheer for Vincent, and then she could get the fuck out of there.

Lake couldn’t take her eyes off Vincent as he came closer and closer to having his name called. She just wished she was nearer to the stage. He was so different from before, and she desperately wanted to see it up close.

Stop it!

Lake’s knees were bouncing up and down at that point. She needed to get out of the confined space next to all those suits. It was also Vincent she needed to get away from, though. If she kept watching him for much longer, she was sure to fucking lose her marbles.

“Vincent Vitale,” the guy spoke into the microphone.

Lake stood, clapping, as the men began their howling. The sound of more whistling and screaming drew her attention away from Vincent. She looked around the gym and saw countless girls wailing at the top of their lungs, each one trying to scream louder than the other to gain his attention. That wasn’t it, though; older women were even whistling and screaming along with them.

Unable to take the torture any longer, she began to squeeze past the men and out of the bleachers. She tried her best to quickly exit the gym without breaking into a sprint; however, when she passed a blonde mother with huge fake boobs screaming and jumping over her daughter, she ran.

Lake slammed open the doors, letting the fresh air hit her face. Breathing heavily, she sat down on a bench. She wasn’t quite sure why she was out of breath yet decided to blame it on the run and not the fact that she might’ve actually been having a panic attack.

She began taking deep breaths, trying not to picture all those girls going into heat after hearing Vincent’s name. It was hard to pinpoint a single thought since so many were flying through her head.

Why were they acting that way? Did he know them all? How did he know them? Why do I even care? Oh, my G— Lake’s head snapped toward the school entrance when she heard the door being thrown open. She sucked in a breath and just as quickly snapped her head back.

Please, please go away.

“Do you mind?” a dark voice spoke.

Lake swallowed then met the crazy man’s eyes again. Yes, I do. Shaking her head, she scooted as far as she could to the end of the bench. Looking out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him sit and pull a cigarette and lighter from his pocket.

He quickly lit the end with his Zippo before taking in a long drawl. “Why did you run out of there?”

Lake nervously bit her lip. “I-I didn’t.”

“Darlin’, I really wouldn’t try to deny it when you were the only girl in there running in the opposite direction of him.”

Shit.

Lake finally looked over at him, regretting it immediately when she stared into the dangerous blue-green eyes. Seeing him so closely, he looked much different than the other suits. Hell, he wasn’t even wearing one. Instead, he only wore dark slacks and a shirt. By the way he didn’t button his black shirt all the way up, it was almost as if he didn’t like wearing the clothes. Not only that, but he had a scruffy beard and well-past-shaggy hair which he kept slicked back.

Finally, she figured out why he made the hair stand up on her arms. Sure, he was dangerous like the other suits, but the man didn’t try to even hide it behind expensive Italian suits and ties like them. Made men were thugs dressed as millionaires, all except for this one. She only wondered exactly who he was to be able to get away with looking like that. I probably really don’t want to know.