Made Men

7. I Suoi Santi

"I'm not looking," the Italian answered, tiredly.

But she couldn't stop crying, she didn't know if it was the weed or what but it was like a waterfall of emotions had been activated. "You swear?" Vereena sniffed, unable to keep it under control.

He didn't play into her strange behaviour and walked over her slumped figure slowly. Grabbing ahold of her neatly folded clothes, he threw them blindly in her direction. His demanding figure was facing the bed, allowing her to put her clothes on.

"Yes, now stop crying. I have come here to make you a deal, don't you want to leave?" A peace offering, it was all she wanted to hear and more.

Like a pet being promised a treat, her ears perked up at the sound of a release. In record time, her clumsily limbs yanked her shirt over her head before she got up from the ground and pulled her pants on.

"I can go home?" She wasn't sure if she was excited or not, to be honest-she had enjoyed her short-lived adventure. Although she did miss annoying her mother's cooking, perhaps this was a good thing.

"No."

Her face dropped, she gave him a dirty look.

"But you just said I could leave." Then she chewed on the insides of her cheek, out of nervous habit. "Is this one of those sick games kidnappers play with their victims to give them false hope? Because I'm not good as this shit, I'm gonna need more pot if we do this."

The rambling was insufferable, he could feel his migraine worsening the more she spoke.

Peaking over at her with one eye, his tense shoulders relaxed when he spotted she had done as he ordered. "Shut up." He motioned for her to get on the bed with a cock of his head, she complied.

Maybe, she wasn't so stupid, after all.

His statement was answered when his eyes wandered down to her shirt. She had put it on inside out, as for her trousers, since they were already snug on her hips, there was a massive tear.

What was wrong with this girl? He couldn't seem to figure her out as he took a seat at the edge of the bed.

She didn't appear to be any harm, nevertheless, her airy nature didn't fail to disturb him.

Her big round eyes peered up at him, looking innocent and lost. She rose a brow, "I'm not trying to be pushy or anything, but any time now would be great."

His Adams's apple moved as his teeth grit against each other.

Vereena shook her head, she was rattling the beast within. "You know what actually, take your time. Don't let me rush you, kind, gentle man."

Good save, Vee.

"Kind, gentle." He repeated, disgusted by her choice of words. "I'd rather slit my own throat before anyone called me such terrible names."

Ooh. The bad boy type. She let out a bubbly laugh, "Did I say kind? I meant cold-blooded murderer. You, sir, are one mean, killing machine."

"Better." His husky voice rumbled, she wasn't too sure if he was amused or not. There was a slight twitching of the corner of his mouth before he let out a deep sigh.

Killer is not a fan of compliments. Noted.

Vito saw her staring at his face so intently and asked. "The weed good at least? No complaints?"

It was the best shit she had ever taken. "It's... doable."

"You got the munchies yet?"

She couldn't tell him that she was picturing a talking bowl of pasta every time his mouth moved. She was so hungry his accent was reminding her of food.