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“So our enemies have something to attack?”
“No,” I rasp. “So you have something to fight for. Because without love, what are we even doing here?”
“Hmm.” He hums in the back of his throat, a satisfied sound. “That’s kinda where I’m leaning, too. Please come see me tonight, Christabelle. I want to see my weakness face to face.”
My heart thuds to a stop, and my emotions burn in my veins.
I want so badly to go to him. To be with him. To save him from what’s coming.
And yet, it’s impossible.
Savannah is going to do whatever it is she intends, with or without my input.
Emilio Pastore will continue to hunt the brothers down and take back what he considers rightfully his, and he’ll do it whether or not I say “go”.
Telling Felix who I am,whatI am, doesn’t undo the chain reaction of damage I’ve initiated. But it’ll make him hate me. It’ll hurt him. It’ll reinforce his familial belief about weakness.
“I’m sorry, Felix.” Tears burn the backs of my eyes and threaten to make a fool of me. So I reach up to swipe them clean and pray he just… stops.
Stops caring about me.
Stops wanting me.
Stops trying to protect Savannah.
“I have to hang up,” I push past my emotion-lodged throat. “I get carsick, remember? Talking on the phone doesn’t help.”
“Christabelle—”
“I’m leaving,” I cut in, breaking my heart to protect his. “I just got back to civilization, and I need time and space to straighten things out. But I want you to be careful, okay?”
“Be careful?” He draws another puff of smoke. “Why?”
“Because you live in a dangerous world. People want to hurt you.”
“Are you one of them?” His question is hard, though his tone is soft. “Are you gonna hurt me, Ms. Cannon?”
“I’m trying really hard not to.” Teary, I glance up and startle when I find Edward’s eyes locked on to mine in the rearview mirror.
He’s listening. Watching. And I know he has a million questions, most of which he’ll never ask.
“Just be safe,” I finish. “Watch your back. And don’t trust anyone outside of your brothers.”
“Christab—”
I tug the phone from my ear and kill our call before he can draw me in to further conversation and force me to spill everything I know. Then I toss the device back into my bag and crush my eyes shut.
I’ve played a pivotal role in destroying a good man’s life.
Maybe he’s a bad man, too. Maybe he’s done bad things. Jesus, he watched my sister’s murder and did nothing to stop it. But he was a child, never even given a choice.
“Ahem.” Edward clears his throat, nervously attempting to draw my attention. “Ms. Cannon?”
“Please don’t ask me about that call.” Sniffling, I open my eyes again and reach into my purse for a tissue. A napkin. A sanitary wipe from KFC. I don’t even care. “I’ve been exceptionally sick and busy this week, Edward. I’m stretched as thin as I can possibly go. So I don’t?—”
“I only wanted to ensure you were okay.” Carefully, he brings us around a corner and toward my apartment building. “And to tell you that, in my experience, as a man as old as I am, life is rarely as serious aswe think it is. Emotions run high and things can feel intense, but once you reach my age and are gifted the opportunity to look back, you realize that nothing was ever as scary as first thought.”
I clamp my lips shut and breathe through my nose, filling my chest until it expands. Then I let it go again and loathe the way it shudders on its way out. “I think my current predicament is as scary as they come. I don’t know how else to see it.”
