3. CAR

"Hey!" I heard my brother call as I continued walking.

I remained silent.

His hand wrapped around my shoulder.

Turning my face away from him, my eyes close as fear races through my veins.

"Please," I begged.

"What's wrong?" he asked, curiosity leaked through his slow, slurred voice.

I peeled my eyes open to see his familiar brown eyes stare back at me.

"Just leave me alone, Jake." I hated how weak my voice sounded.

He stared into my eyes for a long, dragged pause until his eyes followed down my arm, where my hand unconsciously covered the bruise.

His fingers clasped around mine before I could stop him.

He lifted up the sleeve of my hoodie.

No.

"Please, Jake. Please-"

Then as quickly as his touch started, it left.

I looked beside me and he was gone.

I'm sorry.

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I handed my mother a box of Newport, and before she could make another remark, forced myself up to my room.

I breathed in sharply and I collapsed onto my bed, muscles aching.

A knock on the door sent a shudder down my spine.

Nobody came here. They all knew better.

"I'll get it," my brother mumbled under his breath, a few doors down from mine.

The door opened, a pause hanging in the air.

I heard the quiet words of Jake's voice filled the air, until I recognized the other deep, Italian voice.

"I'll give you an hour. I expect her home by midnight," my brother said bitterly, keeping his voice low enough to keep our mother from waking up.

"Thank you for your understanding," Lorenzo murmured. His voice sent a shiver down my spine, chills rising along my skin.

I forced one step in front of the other as I walked downstairs.

There, staring at me with dark, lustful eyes was Lorenzo Russo.

He was dressed in a black button-down shirt and a matching pair of tailored jeans. It fit against the mold of his body perfectly, every time he moved his arm causing the muscles underneath to crawl underneath.

"Hello, Elizabeth." he greeted politely, body bowing down slightly, respectful despite the trouble that glistened in his endless pool of black eyes.

I nodded in response, words tumbling through my head anxiously.

What is he doing here?

What does he want from me?

Why is Jake letting him?

All the questions paused as my gaze snapped back to his.

His eyes raked my body in hungrily, and I felt oddly self conscious, aware of my revealing clothing. I wore a pair of black cotton shorts and a white spaghetti tank top, making me look even paler.

I blushed underneath his gaze.

"Midnight," Jake reminded him, his voice almost a growl.

I looked over at him once, to see his eyes fully sober and alert. It was one of the few times I have ever seen him serious. It's been more often lately. I wonder if there was anything-

"Midnight." Lorenzo echoed, words held with the same strictness as my brother's.

Lorenzo opened the door swiftly with one hand, gesturing with the other for me to go first.

"My lady," he purred.

I blushed even harder as Jake tossed him a warning glare.

He closed the door silently behind him, posture still held with the same amount of assertiveness and confidence, although it was less tense. More relaxed. I glanced up at his flat, black eyes, trained on mine.

I pushed myself around him.

Lorenzo had his two, large hands on the frame of the door, making him seem even more intimidating in our small, two-bedroom apartment. His black cotton shirt lifted, exposing a sliver of the tan, caramel-colored skin that hid underneath. I saw the line of muscle following his v-line, and my thighs began to shake at the mere thought of what lurked even further.

He caught me staring at him, and I turned forward, hating the look in his eyes that sent a hot ripple of pleasure down my spine.

"Let's go." I mumbled, hating the dangerous mixture of emotions that bubbled inside of me.

I could almost feel his smirk from behind me.

The moment the door closed with a soft click I could feel my heart rate start to spike.

What did he want?

Is he going to call the police?

My mind whirled with unanswered questions, until I realized I had followed him out the building and to his car.

There-parked among the already trashy, hellish cars-was a Mustang. The windows were darkly tinted, though I could see the leather seats and small blue light of a screen. Its body was a sleek chrome, emanating power and control.

The moment he opened the door, the familiar smell of his musk filled my senses. A mix of mint, cigarettes, and cedar.

And I loved it.

I dusted off my shoes, earning a scoff from Lorenzo as I stepped inside the expensive, luxurious car.

It was until he started the car that my anxiety started to spike.

"Hello, Isabella."

"I wonder what that-"

"I love you."

Over the hard, pounding pulse of my trembling heart, I heard my breathing drag to short, jagged breaths.

"Isabella?" I heard Lorenzo call out to me, although his voice was faded in the background.

My body felt like it was falling.

I closed my eyes.

It's not real it's not real it's not real it's not real-

"Isabella."