He was looking at me again, his lips stretched wide so his smile was all teeth.

I slow-blinked. ‘What?’

‘You realize you’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes?’

‘No, I haven’t,’ I said. ‘I was staring into space. I was thinking about stuff.’

‘If I didn’t know better I’d say you were getting lost in my eyes.’

I sprang to my feet. ‘Oh my God, I was not. You are so full of yourself.’

In the distance the bus was rolling to a stop and I thanked the universe for small mercies. I was going crazy. He was making me crazy and I had to get out of there.

He eyed the bus with unconcealed disgust. It was really old, and even from outside you could just tell it smelt of sweat and broken dreams. ‘Do you want a ride back to Cedar Hill?’

I was already carrying myself away, hiding the pink in my cheeks. I waved over my shoulder. ‘No thank you, Zoolander. I’ll leave you to your vanity.’

‘You’ll melt on that thing. It’s from the Stone Age.’

I twirled my fingers in a queenly goodbye as I got on the bus.

My face fell. The driver was wearing a wife-beater. A half-smoked cigarette lolled from his mouth and he was tapping a sign that read ‘Air conditioning on board this bus is temporarily out of service. We apologize for any inconvenience.’

I backed down the steps, swallowing my pride as sweat beaded on my forehead. I whirled around to find Luca leaning against the bus stop, smirking, in his award-winning role as the actual personification of smugness.

I skipped over to him. ‘Sooo … about that ride you offered …’

‘I knew you’d come crawling back.’ He turned on his heel, his amusement flying over his shoulder. ‘How do your words taste, Sophie?’

I stuck my tongue out at the back of his head as I followed him to his car. ‘The air conditioner was broken.’

‘So your pride is worth the price of having cool air on your face?’

I wiped a stray bead of sweat from my brow. ‘Hey, Luca?’ He glanced over his shoulder, an eyebrow hiked up. ‘Shut up.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

BLUE VIOLETS

Luca’s car was spacious and cushy, and the air conditioning was heavenly. I lay back and sighed happily as a cold breeze feathered my face. For an instant there was nothing else but that feeling of welcome relief, dissolving the sticky hotness that had been crawling up my back all day.

‘This is amazing,’ I groaned. ‘I can’t believe I was going to take that bus.’

We were on the highway and Luca had one arm lolling easily on the armrest between us and the other resting atop the wheel of the car. We were going fast but it didn’t feel like it. It felt … safe.

Luca side-glanced at me. ‘You are easily pleased, Sophie Gracewell.’

I shrugged. ‘I’m trying to concentrate on the small things right now, and this small thing is nice.’

He nodded, his attention refocusing on the rear-view mirror. ‘That’s a good philosophy.’

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I just came up with it.’

He frowned, adjusting the mirror and dropping his speed. He muttered something, but I couldn’t catch it.

‘What is it?’ I sat up.

A horn sounded behind us. I turned to find a car weaving erratically three vehicles back. It was black, but other than that, I couldn’t make anything out. One thought pounded out all the others, as the word Marino rang in my head.

Luca sped up again and I was flung against the seat. ‘Cazzo,’ he said. ‘Sophie, get down.’

He grabbed the wheel with one hand and reached under his seat with the other, pulling out a handgun. My eyes grew to twice their size. ‘Luca …’

‘I said get down!’ he shouted.

He weaved towards the side of the street.

The strange car was two cars back now, swerving from one side of the highway to the other. Oncoming vehicles were honking as it veered into their lane.

I slunk to the ground, resting my head just above the seat. Luca kept the gun cocked in his hand, his eyes narrowed at the rear-view mirror. He opened the window, and the sound of hollering filled up the car.

My knees were shaking against the floor, my hands gripping the seats so tight my fingers had turned white.

‘Don’t get up,’ he warned. ‘Whatever happens, don’t get up.’

The erratic car overtook the one directly behind us. I could hear it even though I couldn’t see it. The shouting got louder. Luca pulled towards the side of the road, his jaw clenched tight. He was watching the side-view mirror, then over his shoulder, gun outstretched as he pulled the window down, and then … and then it was over.

The car behind us backfired, chugged and sped up, leaving the sound of five frat boys laughing and shouting in its wake as it passed us.

Luca pulled his firing arm back. ‘Dio.’ He stowed his gun down the side of his seat and fell back against the headrest as he eased us into the middle of the highway again. I crawled back up, one hand clutched over my heart, the other dug firmly into the armrest between us.

‘Oh my God,’ I gasped. ‘I really thought we were dead.’

Luca’s knuckles were marble-white against the steering wheel. ‘I thought it was …’ His words caught in his throat, and he cleared it, shaking his head so that his hair fell across his eyes. He swept it back, leaving his hand on his face, and sliding it down across his lips. ‘I thought it was the Marinos,’ he said, his voice muffled by his fingers.