“You’re free to go,” Jones says. “But neither of you are allowed to leave the country. I suspect we’ll be seeing each other again, Mr. Vitale.”
Enzo slides his gaze to Jones, not appearing the least bit concerned. I, on the other hand, am shitting myself.
”And we’re under the agreement that her identity will stay hidden from the media?”
“Of course,” Jones agrees. “We will protect her.”
I hear everything he’s not saying.
That doesn’t mean we will protectyou.
Chapter 36
Sawyer
My heart has formed little fists, and they’re banging against my rib cage, demanding to be let out.
Enzo is standing ahead of me, a slight impression of a dimple in his cheek as he peers over his shoulder at me. Mirth radiates from his hazel eyes, and I’m tempted to poke them.
“Why the hell is Senile Suzy in your driveway?” I squeak, my tone bordering on hysterical. Right before me is my big, yellow Volkswagen van in all its glory, gleaming beneath the sunlight.
He quirks a brow. “You never said why you chose that name,” he deflects.
“She’s a goddamn imbecile and moody as fuck. Why is she here?”
“Because this is where she belongs. This is whereyoubelong.”
I curl my bottom lip between my teeth, tears welling in my eyes.
“How did you find her?” I ask, the words raspy and uneven.
He shrugs casually. “After you fell asleep at the hospital, a nurse let me use her phone, and I called to make sure it was still parked atValen’s Bend. It was, so I had my friend, Troy, retrieve it for me and bring it here.”
I laugh, because if I don’t, I’ll cry. The fact that he remembered where I parked it is enough to have my ovaries exploding.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I choke out.
“Didn’t I say it would be waiting for you? Don’t ever doubt what I would do for you, Sawyer.” He doesn’t let me answer, not that I’d have one for him anyway.
Bottom lip trembling, I say, “Is it too late to add you to my list of things that make me happy? Doesn’t matter, I’m adding you to it anyway.”
A dimple appears in his cheek, and he stares at me as if he already knew that. Nodding toward his house, he murmurs, “Come,bella.”
I take a single step before my joints lock, my feet glued to the ground and unable to move. When he catches sight of my inability to function, the dimple on his other cheek appears.
“What’s funny?” I mutter, my gaze pinned to the house.
“Why are you so nervous to enter our home? Shouldn’t it be me?”
“No,” I grumble. Sweat is beginning to gather in my pits, and my brain is looping back to him sayingour homeand getting stuck there.
Clearly, I’m still very much ashamed of what I did the last time he brought me here. And what’s even more unsettling about this situation is that he wants me to stay.
Because for some godforsaken reason, Enzo decided I was worth loving. I think he hit his head too hard when we shipwrecked and lost his mind, yet I’m too selfish to let him go.
We both lost pieces of ourselves that day. But as time passed while stuck in that lighthouse, we slowly merged our remaining scattered pieces until we made more sense together than we did apart.
There’s no doubt Enzo is worth loving, and though it terrifies me, I’m no longer willing to run away from it.