Chapter 20: Ask Me

Vincent drove me out to the pier himself, with the heater on and neither of us talking.

The warehouse at the end of it belonged to the family.

At that hour it was empty, with the lights off and the water slapping the pilings.

He stopped the car in the dark at the end of the dock.

He turned off the engine.

Then he put both hands on the wheel and sat there shaking.

"Antonia."

"I know."

"All week I pictured a gun on you. I thought it would be Carmine's men.

"I never thought of my own capo."

"Paolo is fine."

"I know."

"You're fine."

"I know that too." His voice cracked on it. "I can't make my hands stop."

I looked at them on the wheel.

I thought of every morning they had held out a white tablet, and every time they had held me on a cold bathroom floor.

I reached across and covered one with mine.

"Vincent."

"Yes."

"Get in the back seat."

He turned his head.

I opened my door and got out into the cold, and I opened the back door and climbed in.

After a moment I heard him follow.

He shut the door behind him and sat on the leather beside me, not touching.

"Ask me," I said.

"Ask you what?"

"Whatever you want. Ask."

His throat moved.

"May I touch you?"

"Yes."

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes. Hurry."

He took my face in both hands and kissed me, long and deep, and the shaking went out of his fingers into my skin.

I pulled him down against the seat.

He tasted of cold air and coffee, and I bit his lower lip and felt him groan.

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