That was before I realized I had fallen for him. Now that my heart is involved, I don’t know how I’m going to handle any pain Enzo exerts against me during the game.
It’s just a game. We don’t have a choice. I can’t let anything Enzo does get to me.
That’s what I continually tell myself as I walk to the main deck where Archard is waiting for us—alone.
I walk over to Archard without a word, dressed in dark jeans and a gray T-shirt. My hair is pulled back in a low ponytail. I might as well have painted war paint on my face, because that is what I’m preparing for—war.
Enzo approaches Archard as well. Dressed similarly, jeans, boots, and a dark T-shirt. The only difference is the bulge in his waistband where he carries his gun as always.
Unlike last time, Langston and Zeke aren’t by his side. He comes alone. Most likely because he is no longer sure if Langston or Zeke would be on his side or mine. Or maybe he’s trying to make the fight fair this time.
Enzo’s eyes hold the weight of the world—like he is walking to his own funeral. He knows his father better than anyone. And he knows that whatever his father planned for us is going to kill, or at least ruin, us.
Archard looks to each of us, then down at a piece of paper in his hands. The paper has the rules of this game on it. The paper will destroy whatever relationship Enzo and I have built.
“Get on with it,” Enzo growls, no longer having any patience for this game or process.
This is only the second game. And already it’s too much for either of us.
Archard doesn’t react, completely unfazed by Enzo’s outburst.
My eyes snap to Enzo’s, and I see the worry and pain in the frown lines of his face, and my stomach flips again, knowing whatever we will face will be personal in a way the last game wasn’t.
“If you will follow me, Mr. Rinaldi,” Archard says to Enzo.
Enzo frowns as Archard begins to walk away.
“What about me? What about the rules?” I ask, not liking being left out.
“I will share the rules when I get back. The game is to be told to each of you individually,” Archard says.
I hate it. If we are told together, then maybe I will get some clue from Enzo about how to handle the game. But now, we will both be in the dark.
Enzo doesn’t look back as he follows Archard into the depths of the yacht. I’m left standing on the main deck alone, with nothing but the warm salty breeze to keep me company.
Why couldn’t the game be something easy, like chess? Some sort of strategy game that determines how well our brains work. But I know that isn’t what this is. Whatever awaits me in the rooms below deck is dark, and most likely, the cruelest thing I have faced yet.
Alone I stand.
Alone I wait.
Alone I tremble.
The wait stretches, and the fear creeps into every nerve in my body. I’m shaking, I’m cold, and I’m worried.
But I can’t let the fear win. This is part of Enzo’s father’s plan. I will not let him destroy me, not like this.
I close my eyes, already feeling my body shut down. Maybe, just maybe, I can use that to my advantage for once. I don’t want to shut everything down; I won’t be able to do any task that way. I need to feel, just not the fear.
Let it go.
Let it out.
I feel the fear as I push it out of my core. And I focus on Enzo.
The love I hold in the depths of my heart is everything. I didn’t let myself feel that love before—not fully. But I do now. Because his love is the only thing that might save me.
I force myself to feel instead of shutting the world out. Feel the torture I felt when I watched Enzo walk away from me and not knowing what he was about to face. Feel the love I felt when he held me in his arms all night, the man who shot and killed a man for wanting me. Enzo Black may be most people’s hell, but he’s my heaven.