I close my eyes, forcing the tears back. If I start crying now, I’ll never stop. I didn’t even know Zeke’s last name. I didn’t know his story. I didn’t know the woman he loved. I hardly knew anything about Zeke. But I did know he was kind, a gentle giant. I knew his heart was purer than most. We had a connection that in some ways triumphed over my link with Enzo. Zeke and I shared a bond that was so different from anything else I’ve had before—friendship.
Zeke was a true friend. One who loved me despite my flaws and protected me fiercely.
The wind blows, and I close my eyes, pretending its Zeke’s arms wrapping around me, providing me strength. I’m going to need you with me to survive the next few hours, Zeke.
When I open my eyes, it seems Zeke sent me more than strength—he sent Enzo.
I watch as he drives his Ferrari up in front of the club. He tosses the valet the keys as he steps out and starts walking to the club entrance.
No.
He can’t be here.
He can’t give up his life and empire for me.
I won’t let him.
I have to stop him.
“Black,” I yell from the darkness of the alleyway.
He stops, turning slowly as if he heard the voice of a ghost. But I’m no ghost, just a woman whose voice he never thought he’d hear again. Even though the night is dark, the moonlight barely providing enough light for us to see each other—we see everything. The blackness of the night isn’t enough to blind us.
I can see his eyes that were glazed over with determination, soften into tight balls of lust as he sees me. His lips tighten, and his throat closes at the sight of me as if he can’t decide whether he is pleased or angry that I’m here.
I feel much the same. My heart races, begging to run and jump into his arms and forget what I must do, while my brain is pissed. He’s here when he should be locked away at home where it’s safe so that tomorrow he can form a plan to once again grow strong and protect the world from dark men like Milo Wallace.
The valet drives his car away, leaving Enzo and me to stand in the moonlit night. We don’t speak, but our bodies say enough—come here so I can fuck you. Our eyes say more—get the fuck away before Milo finds you.
Stay so I can fuck you. Leave so I know you will be safe.
Neither of us will leave without convincing from the other. And our hearts won’t stop until we’ve had each other.
But for a second, I think Enzo is going to walk inside. He might think that would be enough to keep me outside, but I will never give up. Not as long as I love him. He doesn’t realize how much pain it would cause me to know the devil took him while I remained free. I wouldn’t really be free if Enzo was caged. I would be in my own personal hell. And maybe after he hears the truth, he will let me save him.
Enzo must realize that ignoring me and walking inside won’t stop me. Or the pull we share overrides any rational thoughts he has, because instead of heading inside, he walks toward me.
We don’t speak when Enzo stops a step away from me in the dark alley. Close enough to reach out and touch, but far enough away I can’t feel the heat from his breath.
Neither of us has to tell each other why we are here. We both know. To make a deal with Milo Wallace. To protect the other person. To sacrifice our life for love.
Neither of us has ever said we love the other. My feelings are strong; I love Enzo in broad daylight even though I have yet to say the words to him. He knows my feelings. Everyone knows.
But Enzo doesn’t broadcast his feelings. Most people would say how he acts is love, but I know better. He isn’t capable of love. His father broke him of that ability long ago.
Still love is why we are here, and love is why we will both lose everything.
I open my mouth to speak first. I have to be careful with my words because this will be my only chance to keep Enzo from Milo’s grasp.
But Enzo’s mouth comes down on mine before I get a single syllable out. It’s a hungry kiss that feels as much as an attack as a kiss. Our teeth clash as if we haven’t been kissing each other every day for months now. Our lips devour each other, and our tongues do battle in our mouths, yelling at each other with our angry pants instead of our words.
His hand tangles in my hair, pulling hard as his fingers fist into the long strands, jerking my head back so he can look me in the eyes.
“Dammit, stingray,” he says, using the nickname Zeke gave me.
“Don’t you dare!” He doesn’t get to use Zeke to get me to do what he wants. “Keep Zeke out of this.”
“I can’t. Just like you can’t. I will use whatever means necessary to keep you safe.”