I walked away from her door and went downstairs to Enzo’s office, where he sat with his head in his hands behind his desk. I turned his chair and went to my knees.
“Enzo,” I choked out.
He looked down at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I know.”
My bottom lip trembled. “I-I will take the necessary steps to fix this.”
“I know,” he said again.
I cried softly. “I just… I got to spend time with her. She’s still Rosebud. I missed her so much, but she’s still there. She’s still…”
I stopped talking. She wasn’t still my girl.
“She’s not,” Enzo said gently. “Cole, five years ago, when we walked away from her, I knew it was over. I lied to you about it. I knew she wasn’t coming back. I knew we weren’t. I honestly thought you’d get it, but you didn’t, and that’s just another sin of mine. I’m sorry for hurting you and making you believe in something that wasn’t real.” He cradled my face. “We lost our family years ago. We’re broken. I don’t want to lose you, too.”
I rested my head in his lap as he raked his fingers through my hair.
“She’s moved on. She has new guys,” I whispered.
“I assumed as much when they busted into our house,” he murmured. “Her marriage to Anson was a publicity stunt. She’s married to a man named Evan, but Anson is part of the group. So is Klaus. I don’t know about Ryder, but I assume so.”
More tears fell.
She wasn’t lying. She really did have new guys. A new life. She didn’t need me anymore.
I wouldn’t have been taking her from Anson, whom I hated. I’d have been ripping her away from finding happiness after allthe pain we’d caused her. She was free of this level of darkness. She was out of this life.
It’s what Foxy always wanted, and I had the fucking balls to try to drag her back.
Foxy would be so angry and disappointed with me.
I hated me.
“I’m going to call Anson and let him know she’s here and to come collect her. Tomorrow. So get the closure you need, brother. It’s over.”
I sat up and stared at him, my chest aching, but I nodded.
It was over.
27
ENZO
Cole left the house and didn’t return home that night. His tracker said he was at a hotel, likely needing some space.
“Are you going to talk to her?” E asked from his spot on the couch as I came into the living room from my office.
“No,” I said. “Have you talked to her?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. I will, though.”
I nodded. Seemed about right.
“I think you should talk to her,” E said softly. “It might clear the air.”
