Shit. I just yelled at Chloe.

I am a date killer.

Of course I was going to fuck it up.

I’m Vincent Mancini. I don’t know how to do anything else.

This silence is suffocating. But I don’t know how to break it.

Grinding my teeth together, I focus on the road. I keep my eyes ahead, determined to get Chloe home safely.

Is she ever going to talk to me after this?

Probably not.

Clearing her throat, Chloe leans toward my radio. I don’t even know if the thing works. I wince as she flicks the knob, expecting it to fall off, but it doesn’t and the car fills with a song I don’t even know. It’s haunting and beautiful, the guy’s voice hitting me right in the heart.

“‘Ashes,’” Chloe murmurs. “I love this song. It’s so sad but beautiful.”

I glance at her, my heart filling to overflowing as I take a mental snapshot.

“Vincent,” she whispers.

“Yeah.” I can barely rasp the word.

“I know you probably think this date has been ruined or something, but you should know that I’ve had a really good night. Until Diego, everything was perfect. And after Diego, everything has been raw and tense, but I’m still sitting in your car. And you’re driving me home while we listen to beautiful music. I don’t care who your family is, or what they have or haven’t done. None of that changes the fact that you are a good human being, and I’d go out with you anytime.”

My throat is so thick I can’t even swallow. Talking’s off the menu.

All I can do is look at her.

She smiles at me and then turns back to face the front, closing her eyes and softly singing along with the song.

There’ll never be another like Chloe Barlow.

But I don’t see how I’m ever going to keep her. She deserves so much better than me.

That familiar sadness that’s been living in my chest ever since Mom died spreads through my body, settling like a heavy blanket over my soul.

* * *

I didn’t kiss Chloe goodbye. What’s the point of torturing myself?

She pecked my cheek like she did last time and slipped from the car. I kept my lights on to guide her home and then drove past her house.

I wonder what it’s like in there.

I bet it’s a home, with parents who say “I love you.” Home-cooked meals. Conversation around the dinner table. Teasing banter. Stories about the day. I bet they hug each other when they’re sad. There’d be no fists in their house.

Pulling up to my crappy home, I gaze at the peeling clapboard exterior and fight the urge to take my car and drive until I run out of gas. But what would be the point? I’d just get shipped right back here. Even if I am seventeen, and old enough to leave home, what would I leave with? It’s not like I’m rolling in cash. It’s not like I can get a decent job when I don’t even have my high school diploma.

I have to stick it out.

Slamming my door shut, I thump up the stairs and walk in to find Selena on Enzo’s knee. Diego is sitting on the other couch, staring at the TV like a zombie.

As soon as I shut the door behind me, his head snaps in my direction and he’s off the couch like lightning.

“How was your date?”

I glare at him, my stomach clenching tight. “What date?”

“The blonde. I knew you were lying. Did she dump your ass for ditching her?”

I point at him. “Shut up.”

“Boys, boys.” Enzo scowls at me. “What’s the problem?”

“I told you, Pop, Vinnie was out with a girl and he lied about it.”

“What girl?”

“He’s talking shit.” I point at my cousin and know right away that I’m in for it.

“You calling me a liar?” He gets in my face, puffing out his chest like an angry gorilla.

Dammit!

I’m about to get pounded, and I’m never allowed to hit back or Enzo jumps in to support his son. The first and last time I brought my fists to the table, they broke two of my ribs. Nick was in jail by then so I had no backup, and they went to fucking town on me.

I glance at Selena, who closes her eyes, dread washing over her expression.

Diego fists my collar, breathing his beer stench all over me. “You calling me a fuckin’ liar?”

I don’t say anything as he shoves me back. My hip crashes against the table, the empty beer cans rattling and falling to the floor.

“Who was she?”

“No one,” I mutter.

Diego’s fist plows into my side. I grunt and do my best to hide the pain.

“Who was she?”

I suck in a breath. “You can hit me all night, Diego, but I’m telling you, she wasn’t my date. I don’t know her!”

“You seemed hell-bent on defending her.”

“Only because she didn’t deserve your dirty hands trying to grope her.”

Diego’s nostrils flare and he lashes out again. I block the punch, only to score myself a thunder fist to the stomach.

I hiss and bend forward just as Diego’s knee comes rocketing toward my face. The taste of blood explodes in my mouth and I hit the floor.

Curling into a ball is my safest bet. I just need to ride it out until Diego’s had his fill or Enzo gets bored of the show.

He shouts at me the whole time, demanding Chloe’s name, but I keep my mouth shut. Covering my head, Diego gets in a solid kick before stepping back. I make the mistake of unfurling and score myself a fast one to the face.

“Her name!” he screams in my ear.

“That’s enough, Diego!” Enzo shouts. “He would have told us by now. Leave him!”

My cousin stands back, puffing from exertion.

Pain radiates through my body as I stagger to my feet. Enzo looks across the room at me. “If I find out you’re lying, it’ll be much worse than this.”

“She was nothing. A stranger.” I wipe my lip with the back of my hand but it doesn’t stop the blood dripping off my chin.

“Go and clean him up.” Enzo pats Selena’s butt and forces her off his knee.

She does as she’s told and I’m soon sitting in the bathroom being patched up by my uncle’s young girlfriend. Her hands are trembling as she dabs my wounds.

“Nick would never have allowed this,” she whispers.

“Nick’s not here,” I grumble.

Shit, I’m hurting all over.

But at least I kept Chloe out of it.

I can go to bed with a clear conscience. And if I know what’s good for me, I should probably stay there for as long as I can.