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The other issue was the end had yet to be written, and I didn’t have a damn clue the direction my story would go.
“I won’t back down from the threat I made to Giovanni.” If she was suggesting that, she needed to know where I stood. “There will be no mercy if he doesn’t give me a name.”
“But Giovanni didn’t know that his guys were sent to attack you.” She pulled her hand back and settled in her seat, clearly unhappy with my words. “And you just said they’re basically businessmen now.”
Was she trying to walk me off the cliff of crazy? Did she forget a man had had a bat to her throat and a hand on her thigh? Did she not know what vile things that man-child had been thinking about while straddling her?
I shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“Enzo, there’s a difference between going after whoever murdered Bianca and taking out some young punk who was looking for a fight at your apartment.” She fidgeted with the sleeves of her top, and it was clear she was growing uncomfortable.
“And those young punks turn into the kind of men who hurt innocent women,” I shot back, hating that ugly truth. But after everything I’d witnessed in my life, I knew I was right. I unbuckled, stood, and set my hand to the ceiling, peering down at her as I remarked in a rough voice, “I guess this means I know how you’ll react when you hear the middle of my story. And maybe you were wrong about what you said last night. Maybe you will run.”
FOURTEEN
Maria
“How are we fitting everything in there?” I asked as Enzo loaded only his weapons-case thing into a Porsche at JFK. The trunk was located under the car’s hood at the front, which I already knew because Enzo had owned one back in Charlotte.
“We’re not.” Enzo closed the hood-trunk and swiveled around with his sunglasses hiding his eyes. “There’s space behind the seats, but I need that for something else.” He tossed a look toward the two security details and pointed to our suitcases by the car. “These will need to ride with you two,” he instructed, and one of them quietly grabbed our suitcases and loaded them in the Suburban parked behind us.
“How’d you manage to get a case of weapons through security anyway? Didn’t it have to go through a scanner or something?” I asked.
“I know a guy who knows a guy.” He shrugged, and was that sarcasm or was he being serious? Right now, I couldn’t tell.
I folded my arms, not ready to get into such a tight space with him, worried his bad mood would suck all the oxygen from it. “Are you mad at me?”
“Why would I be mad at you?” He walked past me and pointed to the passenger door, a silent command to get in.
“Oh, I don’t know, because I’m here. You haven’t talked to me in more than an hour, and you’ve altered between scowling, brooding, and just looking overall moody.”
Turning to face me, he set a hand on the roof of the car. Leaning toward me, his lips twitched, a near smile. Was he laughing at me? “Pretty sure those are all the same thing, bellissima. Now, will you please get in?” He opened the door for me.
“Deflection, nice.” I maneuvered around him to get in the fancy car as he said something in Italian before shutting the door, then walked to the driver’s side.
He slid behind the wheel onto the burgundy-colored leather. “Buckle up.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Moody and bossy. Great.
I hated to admit the luxury car suited him. It was a metallic-gray Porsche 911 Turbo something or other. I knew he missed the Porsche he’d sold in Charlotte, but I had no clue he had another one in New York. Well, I was assuming this was his and not a rental. “So where are we staying while here? A hotel?”
“No. Constantine thinks we should all stay together at my parents’ place in Long Island, but I need to stop by my place in Chelsea first and pick up a few things.”
A curtain of shock had my eyes dropping closed at that revelation. “You kept your house? I thought you gave up your life here when you moved.” I wasn’t sure why that hurt so much, but it made me think back to my mother’s irritating warning on my birthday that Enzo might leave me one day.
“I feel like we’re about to fight, and I don’t know why.” Enzo sighed, and I opened my eyes to see his sunglasses up as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just like having my own place and car when I visit, that’s it, Maria.”
When I didn’t respond, Enzo flashed me an uneasy look and returned his Ray-Bans into place.
I knew why I was mad at him. It was those last words he’d said to me on the jet before we both had gone radio silent for the remainder of the flight. He was trying to push me away again. His words were meant to scare me, and when would he learn I wasn’t going anywhere?
I let several minutes of silence swallow the space between us as we left the airport before finally mustering up a conversation starter. “Won’t it be weird to stay at your parents’?”
I’d been to his parents’ home before, but the one that overlooked Central Park. I’d almost forgotten they had another place outside the city in Oyster Bay Cove, Long Island.
“This entire situation will be awkward. But Izzy will be there, too, and I’m sure she’ll love seeing you again.” His tone was a bit less edgy this time.
I hadn’t seen Isabella since the funeral, and she had to be thirty now, or maybe already thirty-one. When I visited for my birthday six years ago, she’d been working overseas for a company in London.
