Dinner at Valerius's

*Sloane*

The grip on my hand felt like a velvet vice, unyielding but surprisingly warm. Cassius marched me across the pavement toward the sprawling campus parking lot, his stride long, confident, and impossible to match with my bad leg. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows over the concrete, and a few lingering students cast curious glances our way. I tugged my arm hard, desperately trying to break his hold, but his fingers remained firmly laced through mine.

"You look hungry," he said, not breaking his brisk pace, his voice cutting through the ambient noise of the campus. "How about we get a bite to eat so you can tell me your story?"

"I don't have a story to tell," I mumbled to his broad, muscular back, my sneakers dragging against the pavement.

He chuckled, a low, vibrating sound that rumbled over the asphalt. "Fine. You don't have to tell me now. I'm willing to wait. But let me, at least, take you out to an early dinner so we can get to know each other better."

I dug my heels into the concrete, forcing him to halt and turn around. The gentle breeze ruffled his dark hair, making him look unfairly handsome. "Cassius, I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful in any way, but why do you care anyway?" I demanded, frustration bleeding into my tone. "I am not your charity case. There are so many women here on campus who are practically groveling at your feet. You can take your pick of any flawless girl! I mean, why waste your time on me?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, his dark eyes softened, mapping the frantic energy in my posture. Without a word, he gently tugged me the rest of the way to a sleek, pristine black Dodge Challenger gleaming in the sunlight.

"I'll answer your questions once you get in the car," he said, pulling the heavy passenger door open. "Get in, Sloane."

I stared into the dark, cavernous interior of the vehicle, and the bottom completely fell out of my stomach. The plush leather seats, the enclosed space, the heavy doors designed to lock people inside. Suddenly, it wasn't a sunny, populated campus parking lot anymore. The phantom smell of stale cologne, sweat, and sheer terror assaulted my nose. The walls of the Challenger seemed to shrink, threatening to box me in. Being trapped in an isolated vehicle with a man. The traumatic memories hit me like a physical blow to the chest, choking the fresh air right out of my lungs.

"Uhm, can we just eat here?" I stammered, taking a jerky, panicked step backward. "Somewhere on campus? A cafeteria? A bench?"

After the brutal assault, my vulnerability was a living, breathing monster resting on my shoulders. The mere thought of hopping into a metal cage with a boy I barely knew made my vision swim with dark spots.

Cassius immediately dropped his hand from the metal doorframe. His expression shifted in a fraction of a second from casual confidence to deep, observant concern. He read the sheer, paralyzing terror radiating off my rigid body.

"What's wrong, Sloane?" he asked softly, his tone incredibly gentle. "I can see the hesitation in your eyes. I can hear it in your voice." He took a slow, deliberate step back, giving me ample physical space. "I promise, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want something good to eat at a quiet place where we can talk in private. Then, I'll drive you straight home."

I shook my head, my chest heaving erratically. The words of protest wouldn't form past the lump in my throat.

Cassius reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his phone. He held it out, moving slowly so he wouldn't startle me, and placed the cool, heavy metal square directly into my trembling palm.

"Here's my phone," he said, his voice steady and remarkably grounding. "My pin code is 0395. Keep it in your hand the entire ride. You can call the police the very second you feel threatened. I won't stop you."

I stared down at the illuminated screen in my hand. The gesture was so remarkably simple, yet it pierced right through the thick, suffocating fog of my panic. He was giving me the power. He was handing me an immediate escape route, placing his own trust in my hands to disarm my fear.

I inhaled deeply, forcing the crisp air back into my tight lungs. I bit my lower lip, weighing the phone, and glanced up at his earnest, patient face. Gathering every single ounce of courage I had left in my battered soul, I gave a small nod and slowly slid into the passenger seat.

"Good girl," Cassius murmured, shutting the door with a solid, reassuring thud.

Through the tinted window, I watched him wave at Dante and Stavros, who were idling nearby in another roaring muscle car. Cassius rounded the hood and slid into the driver's seat. Even folding his massive, athletic frame into the low car, he moved with liquid, effortless grace.

"I hope you like Italian food," he said, turning the key. The engine purred to life.

Before I could process his statement, he leaned across the center console. My instinctual panic flared hot and fast, but then I felt the nylon strap pull across my chest. He was just fastening my seat belt. He was so incredibly close I could feel the heat radiating off his skin and feel his minty breath ghosting over my cheek. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs.

"Sure, pasta and pizza," I choked out, my voice embarrassingly thin and airy.

I desperately needed to relax. I started picking at the cuffs of my white, long-sleeved, button-down blouse, hoping the mindless distraction would help put my racing mind at ease. When that failed to stop my shaking, I began wiping my sweaty palms hard against the rough denim of my thighs, over and over.

Cassius shifted the car into gear, easing us out of the campus lot and onto the main road. "Don't be nervous, Sloane. You'll like my mom, and I have a feeling she'll like you too. She cooks the best ravioli in town, and I'm not just saying that because she's my mom."

My head whipped toward him, my eyes wide. "Your mom?! I'm going to meet your mother?!"

I looked down at my basic clothes—my plain blouse and faded jeans—and a fresh wave of horror washed over me. I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

"What you're wearing is fine," Cassius pointed out, casting an amused glance my way. "Look at me. I'm just in a regular t-shirt and jeans."

"B-but she's your mother!" I argued helplessly, gesturing to his designer shirt. "She wouldn't care if you were dressed in literal rags." If the car hadn't been moving steadily down the street, I honestly might have unbuckled the belt and bolted into traffic.

Cassius threw a playful wink my way. "Well, at least you know you'll be safe." His smile faded into something far more sincere, the teasing leaving his eyes. "So, you asked me earlier why I care? The first time I saw you, I just felt I needed to protect you. I know it sounds weird, but I can tell something really bad happened to you. I know you barely know me, but Sloane, you can trust me."

"So you do see me as a charity case," I muttered. I ducked my head, shame burning hot and prickly on my cheeks. I didn't want anyone's pity. I didn't want to be a broken bird they needed to nurse back to health. I just wanted to move on and live my life in peace.

"No, of course not," he denied quickly, his tone sharp and firm. "I just want us to be friends. How about that?" He flashed me a bright smile, his perfect white teeth and deep, gorgeous dimples on full display.

Friends.

The word echoed loudly in my mind, turning foul and sour on my tongue. The boys who destroyed my life had used that exact same word to lure me in. They said they wanted to be friends. They said they wanted to hang out. And look what they ultimately did to me. My face was a ruined mess of jagged scars. I walked with a heavy, noticeable limp. The doctors firmly believed I would never be able to carry children of my own.

But as I stared at Cassius's sharp, aristocratic profile, logic fiercely warred with my trauma. Why would Cassius want to rape me? Why would Dante or Stavros, for that matter? They were practically campus royalty. They could snap their fingers and have their pick of any beautiful girl in the city, and I was sure none of those girls would mind sharing their beds. They didn't need to corner a scarred, broken girl.

"I feel offended," Cassius said suddenly, grabbing my attention and pulling me from my dark thoughts.

"I'm sorry... what?" I blinked, confused.

"Am I that bad a person?" he asked. I turned my head, thoroughly puzzled by the random question. He caught my gaze, his dark eyes wide and pleading. "The only reason why you wouldn't want me as a friend is if you think I'm evil. Am I really that bad of a person?"

He gave me these ridiculous, exaggerated puppy-dog eyes. The thick ice encasing my heart instantly melted into a puddle.

"Of course not, Cassius," I rushed to say, feeling terribly guilty. "I was just thinking of something else. Sure... we can be friends."

I answered so fast I wanted to kick myself. Maybe too quickly. Ugh.

His expression shifted into a gentle, open smile filled with overwhelming kindness and empathy. "You've made me really happy, Sloane."

I turned to look out the passenger window, a heavy, wistful sigh escaping my lips. Watching the city storefronts blur by, a dull, romantic ache settled deep in my chest. I silently wished I had some magical fairy godmother who could wave a wand, fix my broken face, and heal my damaged body. If I didn't look like such a hideous monster, if I wasn't so irreparably damaged, maybe Cassius and I could be more than just friends. My feelings for him were already starting to transcend casual friendship, blooming into something profound. But a dreamer can only dream.

A few minutes later, Cassius parked his sleek car in front of a cozy, brick-front Italian restaurant with a glowing sign that read Valerius's. I should have guessed we would be eating at his family's establishment.

We walked inside, and the rich, mouth-watering aroma of roasted garlic, fresh basil, and baking bread wrapped around us instantly. Dante and Stavros were already seated inside a comfortable corner booth. They were laughing and chatting easily with a middle-aged woman wearing a crisp white apron over a sharp, slate-colored pantsuit.

Cassius kept a warm, reassuring hand near the small of my back as he guided me toward the table.

"Mama, I want you to meet Sloane," Cassius announced proudly. "Sloane, my mother, Carmela Valerius."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Valerius," I said formally. I extended my trembling hand, expecting a polite, business-like handshake.

Instead of taking my hand, she stepped forward, bypassed my outstretched arm entirely, and pulled me into a fierce, bone-crushing hug. She smelled like expensive perfume and warm spices.

"Mrs. Valerius is Cassius's grandmother," she corrected, her voice rich, melodic, and warm. "You can call me Mama Carmela, sweetheart."

She pulled back just enough to frame my face in her soft hands. She tilted my chin up, catching the bright restaurant lights directly across my scarred skin. Her warm eyes scanned my jagged features, her gaze incredibly sharp and observant.

"Who did this to you?" Cassius's mother demanded. The playful warmth vanished instantly, replaced by a dangerous, protective edge.

My heart skipped a violent beat. Panic seized my throat, choking off my air supply. "Ah, Mama Carmela, uhm..."

I opened my mouth, but the words refused to materialize. How could I stand in this beautiful, family-owned restaurant and explain the horrific nightmare? How could I tell this elegant woman that a gang of boys raped me, took heavy gym equipment, smashed my face until I was unrecognizable, and left me bleeding on the floor to die alone?

My silence stretched, heavy and agonizing. I was visibly struggling with my words, my eyes darting frantically.

Carmela noticed the sheer terror swimming in my eyes. She immediately sensed the agonizing depth of the trauma locking my jaw. Without demanding another syllable, she pulled me right back into her chest, giving me another fierce hug, wrapping her arms around me like a formidable, maternal shield.

"You tell me when you're ready, Sloane," she whispered fiercely into my hair. "Right now, you eat. Sit, sit."

That afternoon spent in the corner booth of Valerius's felt like stepping into a beautiful alternate universe. I had so much fun. I actually giggled. I laughed until my ribs ached and tears pricked my eyes. We joked around, stealing bites off each other's plates, and talked about everything and nothing. They didn't care about what I looked like or the tragedy attached to my name. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, I genuinely had friends.

Later, I borrowed Cassius's phone to call my parents, knowing they would be worried sick about my delay. When my mom answered, I started to explain my whereabouts, but Mama Carmela gently took the phone from my hand. She spoke to them directly, her tone polite but laced with absolute authority, promising them I was in remarkably good hands. She even went as far as telling my mother that no one would dare touch me, her voice dropping into a most serious, chilling tone.

I found that strange, hearing a sweet restaurant owner speak like a ruthless mob boss. But after witnessing how easily Cassius, Dante, and Stavros had dismantled Mark in the cafeteria earlier, I assumed maybe they had undergone intense combat training or something similar.

After our early, laughter-filled dinner at Valerius's, the trio drove me back to my house. The sun was dipping below the horizon when we pulled into the driveway. They insisted on walking me up to the front porch, where I formally introduced them to my parents.

At first, my mom and dad were incredibly wary of the three massive, intimidatingly handsome young men standing on our doorstep. I couldn't blame them. Not even a little. After the horrific nightmare that had destroyed our lives and sent me to the ICU, all men were bad men in the eyes of my deeply traumatized parents. They kept their distance, their posture stiff and defensive.

But Cassius, Dante, and Stavros didn't push. They were flawlessly polite, respectful, and gentle.

But as the weeks progressed into months, my parents learned to love them, entirely won over by the constant help and support they brought into my life.