“Just trying to save my girl.”
He nodded, pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, and handed it to me. I took it and opened it to see he’d made some notes too.
“You think it’s Mikhail Ivanov?” I frowned and looked to E. Last anyone knew, he’d run after his old man was killed and had set up shop on the West Coast. Seattle, if our information was correct.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “It would make sense, don’t you think? He’s Rosalie’s cousin. He’s bitter. He’s a prick. He’s on the West Coast. Best guess as any.”
“Did you tell Enzo?”
He shook his head. “No. He’s not been home. He’s at Rustic HQ and called to say he was headed to check how the clubs in town were doing.”
I frowned at that. I always went with Enzo to do club checks.
“Do you think he still loves her?” I asked softly.
E blew out a breath and looked away from me. “It’s been a long time, and Enzo has been punishing himself since we were taken. I think he’s been through a lot and hates himself. He doesn’t want to love her because it makes it hurt too much, but yeah, I think he still does, even if he says he doesn’t.”
“Do you still love her?” E didn’t talk about her often. He was always quiet when it came to her. Almost like she had been a dream he’d had long ago.
He looked down at his hands in his lap. “Yes.”
I sat up and moved to sit beside him. “Me too.”
“I know.”
We were quiet for a moment. To my knowledge, none of us had been with another woman since Rosalie. E didn’t really talk to people at all. He did a lot of consulting and research work for the Mayfair science program and worked with many people there, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call any of them more than work colleagues. Enzo ignored the women who tried to climb on him. He always pushed them away. No woman could hold a light to my Rosebud, so I didn’t bother with any of them.
And when shit got too lonely, we’d sit in bed and jerk off with one another like three fucking chumps.
“Do you think she’ll ever come back to us?” I asked softly.
“No.” His words were firm. “I don’t think she will.”
His words gutted me, but he said them with such fervor, I knew he meant them.
“And if she did…?” I ventured, praying to fuck he’d want her back. He loved Rosalie. Always had. But E had changed, too.
He looked over at me and gave me a sad smile. “That would require a hell of a lot of explaining, don’t you think?”
“She’s worth it, E.”
“I know,” he murmured. “But if she came back, I feel like she’d only hate us once she knew the truth.”
“But if she came back, would you want her?” I repeated.
“I would. I always will.” He visibly swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “But I doubt she’d want to come back to a kid that’s not hers and to a man who lied to her about it. Laz would be a constant reminder of shit we’re all trying to forget. I hate to say it.” He shook his head.
“Enzo knew what he was doing when he took your place?—”
“Not Enzo. Me.” He looked away from me again and stared at the wall. “I lied to her. I was going through a lot of shit back then. I didn’t know up from down. All I knew was fear. I made astupid decision from that fear and dragged you and Enzo down with me. It’s a regret I have. If I had the opportunity, I’d go to her and tell her how sorry I am because she at least deserves an apology. I could give that to her. Maybe…”
“Maybe what?” I asked, desperate to cling to any bit of hope he could give me.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if she’d want to be friends with me.”
I frowned. “She’s your girl, man.”
He looked at me. “Not anymore. We know she’s not ours. Lying to ourselves isn’t ever going to fix any of our problems, Cole. It’s OK to dream of a friendship. If I could have her as a friend, then I know I’d be OK with that. I’d accept it. It would beat the nothing, you know?”
