Vincent (Made Men, #2)(55)

Seeing the rage behind his eyes as he began squeezing the table, she felt bad for saying what she had, but she hadn’t been left with a choice—she had seen him considering killing her father. Still, she needed to make it better. She didn’t want him to blame himself.

“Vincent, you couldn’t have known what happened, just how Adalyn and my father didn’t. There is no one to blame—”

He jumped up from the table, practically flipping the whole thing over. “There is fucking someone to blame! Those fuckers need to die for how they treated you tonight alone!”

“Please listen to me. I’m begging you, don’t hurt them.” Once again, she couldn’t dare look at him, putting her gaze back down on the table.

Vincent reached out and grabbed her chin, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. “You will never see them again. If you do and they so much as look at you the wrong way, I will kill them slowly and painfully. Do you understand me?”

Lake swallowed the lump in her throat then nodded in understanding. Arguing with him when he was like that wasn’t an option. She was simply lucky to have him agree not to hurt them.

He released her chin and calmly sat back down after he pushed his hair back.

“Don’t tell my dad, and please don’t blame him. There was no way for him to know. He does the best he can for me, but you know he’s not made and only makes so much. He works hard for Dante to make as much as he can to support us. There’s a roof over my head, food in my belly, and clothes to wear. If there’s anything extra after that, he gambles it away. He just can’t help it; he’s a gambling addict.

“Everyone has their downfall, and his is a poker table. That’s his enjoyment in life. It never bothered me, nor do I care if we don’t have a lot of money. My father is the best person I know. He loves walking through that door to tell me he hit. Every time, he would take me out to eat, and then we would go to the grocery store where he’d let me fill up the cart. After that, he gave me money to buy whatever I wanted. That’s more than I can say a lot of parents give to their kids. If you go and tell him about my mom and John, he will never forgive himself, and he doesn’t deserve that.” She couldn’t help crying as she pleaded with him.

Getting up from the table, she ran into her bedroom, unable to stop the sobs escaping her body.

After a few seconds, she felt Vincent’s arms wrap around her. “I won’t tell him if you don’t want me to.”

Lake removed her hands from her face and cried into his chest. “I-I don’t want you to.”

“Then I won’t.” He began stroking her back as he held her closer to him.

“H-he’s not coming home again, is he? He’s ashamed of me working in the casino,” she whispered to him though her tears.

He can’t talk to or look at me anymore. Those thoughts had swirled around her mind all week.

“No, baby, he’s not. He’s ashamed of himself. It’s going to be hard for him to forgive himself for putting you in danger and having you work off his debt. You’re going to have to give him some time to be able to face you again.”

Another cry escaped her throat as she realized she really missed her father and needed him.

“Baby, shh…” He backed her up to her bed and sat her down on the edge of the mattress. “You are worn out and will feel better when you wake up tomorrow.” He bent down on his knee and began unlacing her old tennis shoes.

Ow-ow-ow. She tried not to wince when he removed them from her feet. Then, when she was unsuccessful in doing so, he went for her sock to see what had caused it. She was unsuccessful again as she tried to keep him from taking it off.

Vincent slowly removed her sock and carefully examined her blistered foot before he did the same with the other. He rose from the ground.

“Lie down.”

Lake scooted up on the bed and lay down as she watched him leave the room. She wiped away her remaining tears, wondering what he was doing.

She was so exhausted she had almost fallen asleep before he appeared in her room, wearing gym shorts and a shirt. Looking at his changed clothes, she realized she might have dozed off.

“Where did you get those from? Wait, why did you change?”

He sat down on the end of the bed and placed her feet in his lap. “I always keep a couple changes of clothes in my car, and I’m going to spend the night here.”

“No, you’re not.” She went to sit up and pull her feet out of his lap, but he held onto her legs.

“You’re not staying alone in this neighborhood all night, especially with no car out front if I leave.” He squirted some clear gel into his hands and began rubbing it into her feet.

Her foot jerked at the coldness, but it started to feel good as he massaged it in. “What’s that?”

“Aloe Vera.”

Lake merely looked at him, stunned.

“I called Maria and asked her what helped. Then I walked to the store down the street real quick to get you the things on the list she gave me,” he explained.

Walked? “Why did you walk?”

“I told you that you can’t be left alone in this neighborhood without a car out front. No one would try to come in with my Cadillac there. Now lie back.”

She apprehensively rested her head back on the pillow and watched him care for her feet. His touch was light and soothing, and he was careful around the blisters. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he took his time tending to her. He was being incredibly sweet and kind. It tore at her heart strings that he would think to call Maria and walk down to the store to make something as silly as her feet better. She didn’t want him to stay the night, but she didn’t have the heart to argue against him after what he had done.