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I smile down at Santino, and yet I feel so tiny all a sudden. This is his sore spot.
“Whoring stripper.” I feel icky and disgusted with myself.
He climbs the stairs, saying, “Keep it coming, sweetheart.”
I dig in harder and use another cruel name.
Santino towers over me. Teeth bared, he orders, “Keep. Going. Sweetheart.”
“Cheating.”
“You lost momentum there, that should go without stating?”
“Lying.”
“Yeah, Ilied.”
When he doesn’t deny being a cheating, lying bastard, all I can see is his cock in women’s faces. Their mouths are jolly buckets for his cum!
“I stopped stripping the day we met, Gina.”
“So, the video I saw was old?” I sniff.
“Who showed it to you?”
“Why, Santino? So you can shift your weight around and intimidate them?”
“Yeah, I’ll do ‘em just like I did Carlos. Someone gave me—”
“Carlos? Your friend whose house you were,” I pause, throat tightening.You were cheating all along.“There was never a flip, was there?”
“No. I took a couple of gigs to buy you an engagement ring, Gina!”
For a moment, I gape at him. The declaration’s enough to blow me away. Mrs. Santino Morelli . . . last week, I would have coveted the idea. All I can see is him cheating on me, I snarl. “I could never marry someone like you.”
“Someone like me,” he huffs. “We keep going round and round in this argument, Gina, not getting anywhere. I won’t go there with you, sweetheart. Not insulting or judging you.”
“That’s your prerogative, Santino.”
“So, you come into a dispute ready to inflict all the pain you can.” His hands come to rest on my neck.
Electricity juts up my spine as his thumbs stroke across the vulnerability at my throat. His mouth is a fraction away, and desire licks across my flesh. Goosebumps rise as I await his intoxicating kisses that stoke the fire inside of me. Seeds of conflict course through my soul. I’m better than a man who would cheat on me. In the back of my mind, I try to believe a conspiracy led to the disorder of our amazing connection. For now, carnality rages through my body, too intense to deny.Make me forget just for a moment, Santino.
But Santino doesn’t kiss me. His forehead drops against mine; his breath a perfect tease across my nose and cheeks.
“Christmas is ten days away. I guess that’s all the time I have to convince you that I’m never letting you go, Gina. I love you so much.”
Gina the Grinch vs Santino the Scrooge
* * *
43
Santino
Iwas never a liar. I always owned my shit. When doing home invasions, it never failed; someone asked if they were going to die on that night. I’d tell them exactly how they would die if they didn’t comply. In this instance, I told a little white lie I thought would lead to happiness for the rest of our lives.
Now, I’m a certified fucking liar.
