I shook my head. “Of a car? Never.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” I pulled out of the garage. “Besides, you’ve seen what’s under my hood. I don’t think I have anything to be worried about.”
“That secure, huh?”
I let out a cocky laugh. “Yes.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Fine, you win. Wait!” She reached for my arm. “The hand! It’s back in the house!”
I peeled out of the driveway. “One of Nixon’s men is going to do the honors for us.”
“And out of curiosity, what do you guys do? Just drop it off at the FedEx store, or what?”
“Where else would we drop it off?”
“But it’s a hand.”
“Right.”
“From a person.”
“Yeah.”
“So you can’t ship alcohol, but you can ship body parts?”
I let out a little laugh. “It’s not like we actually write on the box, Human Body Part.”
“Fair enough.” She nodded. “Okay, so where to?”
“Downtown.” I nodded. “The expensive stores, I think. After all, you’re the one with no limit…”
“Are you going to be my personal shopper?”
“I wouldn’t trust you with anyone else.”
Her smile fell. “You think it’s safe for us to be out and about?”
“Of course.” I patted my leather jacket. “I have enough guns in the car to take care of us, and I hardly doubt your father’s going to be at the mall. If he is, just make sure everyone ducks so I get a good shot in between his eyes.”
“Look at you… dirty talk all day long.”
The car fell silent for a few minutes. It was comfortable, like we’d known each other for years instead of weeks.
“Italy?”
“Russia.”
Andi reached for my hand. “Thanks. I know most girls love clothes, but I really, really love clothes, and mine haven’t been fitting and—”
“You’re welcome,” I interrupted, trying to cut off the conversation so we wouldn’t talk about the giant elephant in the room.
It was no longer cancer.
But the clock.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Andi
I’D MADE HIM UNCOMFORTABLE.
I could tell from the way he clenched his jaw and drummed his fingertips against the steering wheel — like the car wasn’t moving fast enough, and he wanted to hurry up and get to where we were going so he could flee the small space and actually breathe.
I knew the feeling well.
Sometimes it hurt to breathe, not because I was sick, but because the knowledge of being sick had a way of choking you physically, even if it was just a mental thing.
We made small talk until we reached downtown. There was a huge shopping center in the distance. He kept driving.
I opened my mouth to ask why, but he just shrugged and drove a few more blocks and stopped directly in front of Neimen Marcus.
“Hmm…” I tapped my chin. “…I like the way you think.”
“Knew you would.” He flashed me a sexy smile that had my heart skipping. We parked and suddenly, as I was getting out of the car, I felt very, very underdressed.
I was wearing combat boots, an ill-fitting Lacrosse sweatshirt, and baggy jeans. Self-consciously, I tugged the sweatshirt up over my shoulder and braced myself for the looks I knew I would get from the salesclerks.
Sergio walked around the ridiculously loud car and reached for my hand. When we touched, he briefly looked down and frowned.
Bruises were making themselves known around my thumb and on the back of my wrist. I tried to jerk my hand free so he wouldn’t have to see them; instead, he simply held my hand a bit tighter. Then, in a move I wouldn’t have expected, lifted my fingers to his lips and kissed every single one.
I shivered, unaccustomed to affection, especially from a sexy guy who was just as dangerous as he was addicting.
“Shall we?” Sergio asked. He was still frowning.
I wasn’t sure if it was at me or because of me; regardless, I figured I had a lot to do with it and immediately felt guilty.
To be fair — I hadn’t planned it.
Falling for him.
I mean, any girl would, but he’d always been such an ass I honestly assumed he’d get tired of my constant chatter and just lock me in a room or a really large box.
Instead, it broke him down.
And turned him into a completely different person — one I knew I would be devastated to say goodbye to.
“Smile.” Sergio shoved me lightly “You’re at Neiman Marcus.”
“Oh, I’m happy,” I gushed. “Just thinking about… dresses.”
“Dresses?” His eyebrows shot up as he held open the door and ushered me through it. “What kind of dresses.”
“The short kind.”
“We should get lots of those for you to wear around the house…”
“The house is chilly.”
He was thoughtful for a minute then said, “I’ll break the air conditioner.”
“Or you could just turn it off.”
“Right, but breaking sounds a lot more aggressive, and I guarantee if you start wearing short dresses around the house, I’ll be aggressive, possibly violent.”
I let out a little laugh and followed him closely as he led me through the hundreds of perfumes and cosmetics on the ground floor. Once we hit the escalator, he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close.