Unforgivable Ties

Chapter 29

Stephanie

“ H ow did you find out about this, anyways?” Vincenzo grumbled, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.

He had neglected to mention that his 36th birthday was coming up. When I found out, I only had two weeks to prepare, and had to scramble to come up with something.

“I went through your wallet,” I responded nonchalantly.

“Wait, what? Why would you do that?” he took his eyes off the road to glare at me, his eyes narrowing.

“Calm down. I was looking for another keycard because I lost mine. You were asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you up. I happened to stumble upon your driver’s license and the date stood out to me,” I said, trying to maintain an innocent expression.

Vincenzo’s grip on the wheel loosened fractionally. “Next time, just wake me up. Less complicated, less invasive.”

“Sure thing,” I replied with faux obedience. Secretly, the smirk that danced on my lips betrayed my real intentions.

As we drove on, the city skyline disappeared from behind us, the road turning more rural.

“Where are we going?” Vincenzo asked.

“Not telling. I’m kidnapping you. The mafia has been a bad, bad, influence on me,” I giggled, but there was some truth behind the statement.

“How are you kidnapping me?” he laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m the one driving.”

“True, but you don’t know the destination. You’re at my mercy,” I said with a theatrical flourish. “And it’s far too late to back out now.”

He merely rolled his eyes at my antics, but I could make out a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He was enjoying this, despite his show of annoyance.

The car roared down the desolate highway, surrounded by nothing but open fields and a clear early morning sky. It was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. He had always been the one to call the shots, to control every situation we found ourselves in—but today, I was the one making decisions.

An hour later we pulled into Frostfire Lodge. Now that my tuition was paid and I didn’t have to pay rent, I had enough money to splurge on getting us a room at one of the nicer ski resorts. It certainly wasn’t the best room, but I was happy that I could do something nice for Vincenzo for his birthday.

He parked the car in the front of the lodge, and we sat in the car for a few moments.

“Do you like it?” I asked nervously, biting my lower lip.

“I do,” he responded, placing his hand over mine. “I haven’t been snowboarding in a long time. Thank you.”

Two hours later we had checked in, had put on snowsuits and were readying ourselves for the slopes. Vincenzo made everything he did look effortless. He had easily put on his boots and had snapped one into place in a short amount of time.

I wasn’t as graceful. I struggled with the bindings on my snowboard, constantly checking to see if Vincenzo was watching. He was, of course, but he seemed to find my floundering amusing more than anything else.

“Need some help?” he asked, pushing himself over to me.

He was already helping me before I could answer. “I’ve never done this before,” I said, turning pink not from the cold but from embarrassment.

“I can tell,” he responded, snapping my boot into place. “Why’d you pick snowboarding?”

“I found an old picture of you doing it when I was cleaning,” I confessed. “I thought maybe it was something you liked...and I wanted to try it with you.”

“You really need to stop going through my things.” He grabbed my hands and gently pulled me off the snow. “Thank you,” he said softly, placing a cold kiss on my lips that made my heart flutter in response.

Using my free back foot, I pushed the snowboard forward like it was a skateboard until we reached the ski lift. Vincenzo was right in front of me, making it look easy. I was following behind him, and I was glad he couldn’t see how awkward and out of place I looked.

“You alright?” he asked as we arrived at the lift.

“Yeah,” I responded, trying to hide that I was already panting from the short distance we had gone.

He looked at me skeptically, but said nothing. When it was our time to get on the ski lift, he wrapped his arm around my lower back and guided me into the seat. The entire world seemed to fall away as we ascended, leaving behind a quiet calm that only the mountains seemed capable of providing.

“What if we fall off?” I asked, gripping the safety bar tighter.

If it could even be called a safety bar. It was a flimsy piece of metal that loosely hung over our lower waist and looked like it might break after years of use.

“We’re not going to fall off,” he said. “C’mere.”

Vincenzo pulled me into him, leaning my body into his. The chair gently swayed from the motion, tilting slightly now that all the weight was distributed to the right side.

“Now we’re definitely going to fall,” I said, burying my face into his shoulder. My helmet bonked against his and made a clanging noise, the sound echoing throughout the inside of my head.

“You’re from the Midwest. How have you never been snowboarding before?” he laughed.

“I hate the cold,” I grumbled. “I wish I was born in California.”

“Maybe we can visit one day,” he mused. His voice was always so soothing; deep and gravely but smooth.

“Yeah.”

It was a good thing he couldn’t see me under my helmet, because I was bright red. I would never had expected him to say he wanted to travel with me. It felt so couple-y; like something that people in serious relationships did.

I didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, because we had to exit the ski lift. Thank god I had Vincenzo to help me off, or else I would have fallen on my face.

How the hell was I going to make it down the slope? Even though Vincenzo could do the advanced courses, he had come with me to the easiest slope, which was reserved for little kids and their instructors. And, staring down from the top of the hill, even that felt like too much.

“You ready?” he asked, snapping his back boot into the snowboard.

I mimicked him, but it took me three tries to get my boot in. “Y-yeah. Can you go down first and I’ll watch?”

“Sure.”

His stance was perfect. He was parallel to the board, with his knees slightly bent and weight distributed evenly. He pushed off with his front foot, and the world became a blur of white as he zoomed down the slope. I watched from above, my heart thudding as the distance between us grew larger. Vincenzo seemed so natural, part of this icy wilderness in a way that I could never be.

“Ok,” I muttered to myself as he neared the bottom.

My stance was questionable; I looked more like a baby gazelle who was standing for the first time. But I took a deep breath and pushed myself down the slope.

I didn’t consider myself ungraceful, but it was near impossible to keep my balance with how fast I was going. My arms flailed at my sides to keep me upright, and miraculously, it worked. I probably looked stupid, but at least I hadn’t ended up face first in a pile of snow yet.

But I was picking up speed at an alarming rate, and the bottom of the hill was quickly approaching. Curse words were running through my brain at an alarming rate, but Vincenzo’s advice cut through: use your heels.

We watched an entire video on the technique, and he explained it to me in depth, but my execution was very incorrect. I tried stopping, but the edge of my snowboard got caught and I rolled down the last ten feet.

The little kids on the slope stared at me as I laid there, a snow-covered heap of limbs and winter gear. My face burned with both cold and embarrassment and I fought the urge to just lie there and disappear into the ground.

“About what I expected for your first time,” Vincenzo said, pulling up in front of me.

“You could have said something more encouraging,” I grumbled, sitting up and giving him an unseen glare through my helmet.

“Good job,” he said, grabbing my hands and helping me up. “Now let’s do it a few more times.”

And we did. I took another few tumbles and was considering writing off snowboarding completely. But, on my fifth try, something clicked. I kept my nerve even as my speed picked up, and once I saw the bottom of the slope coming closer, I gently pressed my heel into the snow.

And, lo and behold, the snowboard slowed.

“Heck yeah!” I said as I pulled to a stop, albeit it an ungraceful one.

“Good job,” Vincenzo said, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my back.

We did it a few more times, and I got better each round. But I found out quickly that snowboarding was a tiring sport. Hours of tumbling in the snow and speeding down the slope had left me half-dead, muscles aching and lungs gasping for air. My bright red helmet was frosted with snow and ice clung to my hair, but when I glanced over at Vincenzo, he looked as fresh as if he’d just stepped onto the slope.

“I think I’m going to take a break,” I said to him.

“Ok. Can I go on some of the harder slopes, or do you want me to stay with you?”

“No! Go ahead,” I said, waving him off. “I want to watch you on the tougher slopes.”

With that, Vincenzo made his way back to the ski lift, and I situated myself at the bottom of the hill. As I sat there hugging my knees, I saw Vincenzo ascend into the expanse of white. He was just a tiny moving dot against the backdrop of majestic mountains and snow-laden trees. The ski lift made its way towards the summit, making Vincenzo disappear into the wilderness. He emerged after a couple of minutes, a tiny silhouette against the snow-white landscape. And then he was moving, barreling down the steep slope with an unmatched grace and speed that made my heart flutter in awe—snow spraying up in his wake.

He twisted and turned, making S shaped patterns in the snow around the obstacles in the course. I let out an audible gasp when he jumped off a pile of snow. After he finished, he made his way back to the lift, and I was excited to watch him do it again.

“Excuse me, miss,” a male employee said to me.

“Hi,” I responded.

“You’re not supposed to be seated in this area. If you could please follow me.”

Weird. I could have sworn there were other people sitting here when I was on the kids course. But maybe no employees were around to get them to move.

“Oh...sorry,” I said, picking up my snowboard and following him.

I expected him to lead me back to the lodge, so I could get a slap on the wrist and a lecture not to do it again. Instead, he was leading me away from the main building and towards a wooded area with small cabins.

No one could see me anymore, unless there was anyone in the few cabins scattered around.

“I...I think I’ll head back to the main area, thanks,” I said nervously, backing away from him.

“Oh, that won’t be possible, Miss.” He yanked my arm so hard I dropped my snowboard and fell to the ground.

“Stop it!” I screamed, trying to pull free from his grasp, but it was near impossible. He had the upper hand. It was easy to drag me through the slippery snow, and the grasp he had on my wrist was unrelenting.

I wanted to throw up when he dragged us into the cabin and slammed the door behind us. There was no hope for me. Vincenzo didn’t know where I was and wouldn’t be able to rescue me.

These were the small cabins the employees lived in. Whether or not this man was an employee was a detail lost on me in my terror, but his intentions were clear. He shoved me against the cold wooden wall and demanded I remain silent.

But every ounce of fear within me was fueled with an anger, an urge to fight.

“Get off me!” I screamed, my breath condensing in the air between us. Gritting my teeth, I swung my helmet at him. He grunted in surprise, releasing his grip on me to clutch his shin.

I took advantage of the momentary freedom and lunged for the door, my hands just barely ghosting the handle before he yanked me back.

He pinned me to the ground, one hand holding my neck, the other restraining my hands. A wave of nausea hit me as my brain thought of all the possible things he was going to do to me. Was he just going to violate me, or would he kill me, too?

I still tried to struggle, but the lack of oxygen soon had my vision blurring and body going limp. In my half awake state, I could see his hand move to the zipper of my snowsuit.

Maybe this was worse than death.

Suddenly, the man’s body went flying across the room. I thought I was hallucinating from the lack of oxygen until I heard a familiar angry roar and the splitting of wood. Vincenzo’s face was contorted with fury and his fists were driving into the man, who was already unconscious.

“Vincenzo?” I said, still trying to regain full consciousness. “Vincenzo, you need to stop!”

He wasn’t at work. He couldn’t just kill a random thug from the underworld and get away with it; this guy might have family and friends who would look into it.

I crawled over to him and grabbed his wrists. “Stop, please.”

Ignoring my plea, Vincenzo delivered another crushing blow to the unconscious man. “He hurt you, Steph,” he growled, eyes bloodshot and wild. “He was going to...” he didn’t finish the sentence, and punched the man in the face again.

“Vincenzo,” I said softly. “You did enough.”

His eyes met mine filled with an unholy rage, but as he registered my pale, terror-filled face, his fists stilled. Panting heavily, he let go of the unconscious man and turned to me.

I flew into his arms, not caring that blood was splattered across his chest and matted in his long hair.

“I was really scared,” I sobbed into his chest, my words muffled by the fabric of his snowsuit. His chest heaved beneath me, each exhale unleashing a raw growl from deep within his throat.

“I know.” His voice, rough with barely contained fury, echoed in the silent room. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer. We sat there in silence for a couple of minutes before I broke it.

“What are we going to do with him?” I said, my voice a panicked whisper. “When he wakes up, he’ll report you to the police.”

“No, he won’t,” Vincenzo said. “With what he was going to do to you? He’ll consider himself lucky he got the beating of his life and not jail.”

“How do you know?” I asked hesitantly, watching the man’s unconscious body.

“I’m a criminal, too,” he said flatly. “If there’s one thing I do know, it’s the unspoken rules of this life.”

I didn’t like Vincenzo referring to himself as a criminal. Sure, he worked for the mafia, and they did a lot of illegal things, but he didn’t deserve that label. Even though he didn’t want to admit it, he had a sweet and caring side, albeit it only for me.

He pushed away from me, getting on his feet. The cold air filled the gap where his warmth had been, seeping in through the unzipped fabric of my snowsuit.

“Let’s go,” he said, extending his tattooed hand out to me.

I grabbed it, and he pulled me up to stand beside him. At that moment, I was sure I would follow him anywhere.