“Have you seen a mirror? Trust me. This will draw less attention.”
“Okay.” I scrunch my nose, not sure I agree, but whatever. He’s the professional kidnapper here. I’m just along for the ride until he gets the ransom from my father.
He puts his hand on my back, guiding me out to the car. “Wait! Don’t I need a blindfold since I’m not going in the trunk?”
“It’s fine.” He opens the passenger door for me.
“Why, thank you,” I say before I get in and buckle my seatbelt. Fernando slips into the driver's seat.
“Good girl.” He nods at my seatbelt.
I don’t know why, but his praise warms me. I suppose it’s not something I’m used to getting. It’s dark out, so I can’t make out much as Fernando drives down a long, windy driveway that cuts through a bunch of trees before we finally make it to a street.
“You think they’ll be okay?” I glance back even though I can’t see the house any longer, worrying about the kittens.
“They’ll be fine. Putting them in the tub was a good idea.” Again, a warm feeling fills me.
I thought if we put the kittens in the tub they’d have to stay put, while the mom could get in and out if she needed to. We’d also shut the bathroom door so she’d stay close to her babies. When we left, they’d all been on the blanket we’d placed in the tub, feeding from her.
“So—” I glance around, having no clue where we are, but that’s not saying much since I barely left my father’s house. We could be ten miles from home, and I wouldn’t know. “You kidnap a lot of girls?”
“Girls? No.”
“So I’m special?” I tease.
He doesn’t respond.
I guess not.
“You kidnap men?” I ask next to fill the silence that has now taken over. I peek over at him. Even though I only have a view of his side profile, I can still see the tightness in his jaw. His eyes remain on the road.
“Yes.” He finally answers after a few seconds. But I’m not sure if he’s answering my first or second question. Or maybe it’s both.
“Is that a yes to question number one or question number two?”
“Both.”
“I’m flattered I’m your first.”
He flicks a glance over at me before his eyes go back to the road.
“I’m only teasing.”
“I’m not.”
“Do you laugh?”
“No.”
“Do you smile?”
“No.”
“Is all you ever say ‘no’?”
“No.”
I snort a laugh. I swear I see his lips twitch. I love that I got him to do that.
“So I was thinking about my kidnapping. Maybe you don’t have to ransom me to my father. My sister’s husband Antonio might pay for me. I think she might have him wrapped around her finger.” I hold up my pinky and wiggle it. When I talked to her earlier, she sounded so in love. The way she went on about her husband and how he treated her–he has to love her. “I didn’t know men in this world could love their wives.”
“The Palermo family treasures their women.”
“Really? Why?” I turn in my seat, wanting to know why they’re so different.
“Nothing makes a man more deadly than thinking someone will hurt the woman they love. The biggest wars have been fought over women. I think your father might be learning that lesson now.”
“I don’t think he loves my mom.”
“No, but he’s infatuated with his mistress. Women are cunning. They play the long game. They can be your greatest asset or your quickest demise.”
“Wow, you really believe that?”
“It’s what I’ve seen in my life. Often the last words some men utter before they die are about a woman. They can steal money and obtain power, but you can’t make someone want or love you, and that will drive a man insane. Especially ones used to getting what they want.”
“You sound like you speak from experience.” I turn back in my seat, not caring for the idea of Fernando pining after some woman. He might already have one, but I don’t see a ring on his finger. Not that men always wear them.
“I speak from what I’ve seen. Nothing more.”
“You don’t have a girl out there waiting for you? If you were mine, I don’t think I’d care much for the idea of you kidnapping other girls.”
“No one is waiting for me, Bianca.”
“No one?”
“No one that doesn’t want to wring my neck.”
“Right,” I laugh. “Like someone could wring your neck.” I hold my hands up. “I don’t think I could even fully wrap my hands around your neck.” Fernando grabs one of my hands.
“Your hands aren’t made for that.” He strokes it with his thumb. The roughness of his touch makes my body light up. I’ve noticed the scars that cover parts of his arms and the one that cuts through his eyebrow. There’s also one under his ear on his neck where I’m guessing someone made the mistake of trying to slit his throat.