Touch In The Dark

Chapter 37

Evelyn's POV

"How do you know it was him?" I cross my arms defensively.

An audible sigh hits my ears. "Mark McGuire, twenty-six years old, blond hair, grey eyes, dentist, and drives a red lexus. I know who he is Eve." Dimitri tells me about Mark.

My eyes widen. "H-how do you know all of this?"

"He has a criminal record." He shrugs.

He has a criminal record? He hasn't told me about that!

"Piccola, you can't see him again." Dimitri steps closer while I take a step back.

No, he's lying. Mark is a good guy; he doesn't have a criminal record.

"You can't tell me what to do." I state.

A devilish smirk curls on his lips. "As your Don, I can."

My head hangs in defeat. This is all just happening too fast. I saw so many dead people, I saw so much blood, those poor women, and now Mark.

"He's not even Russian!" I try to defend him.

"And you're not Italian."

Fuck...

I really don't know what to do. I really like Mark, I don't see how he's capable of being in a mob, but then again, I don't see how I am either.

"At least let me call him." I state more than ask.

Dimitri shakes his head. "Eve, we are at war now. Do you understand how dangerous that'd be? Per favore, ascoltami piccola."

{Please, just listen to me baby.}

Before I have time to register anything, Dimitri is standing directly in front of me, leaning against his doorway. His hand gently rubs my cold arm in a comforting manner.

"You are now my responsibility. I won't let you get hurt." His voice comes off quiet.

"I'm nothing but hurt. All I feel all the time is hurt." I admit.

His eyes soften as he pulls me close to him. My head lays on his chest as he rubs my back. For the first time since my mom died, I feel safe. I feel like I'll be okay. I haven't known Dimitri for very long, but he makes me feel like I'm not a burden, like he enjoys my company.

"How about we order some pizza and watch a movie or two, yes?"

A giggle escapes me as I nod.

While Dimitri sets everything up, I decide to take a shower and get into something more comfortable.

A baggy green cropped shirt with grey sweatpants. I quickly blow dry my hair and look at the flower that sits on my dresser. The sad memory of throwing my diary away in a fit of rage looms over me. I shouldn't have done that. Who cares if Dimitri read what was inside? At least I'd have my memories back.

After an hour, Dimitri calls me down, saying that the pizza is here, and the living room is set up and ready for us.

The smell of melted cheese and greasy pepperoni makes my mouth salivate.

As I plop onto the couch, Dimitri lays the box of pizza on the coffee table with water bottles and already poured red wine. I smile at the sweet gesture and watch as his body places itself next to mine.

Dimitri's eyes stay on the movie the whole time, but I can't seem to look away from him. It's like he is my movie. I shake my head and sip on the wine that was provided for me.