Page 30 of Mercy in Betrayal

I nod. “Yes. I want to do all the things I’ve never been able to do.”

Dipping his head, Enzo kisses me, long and deep and drugging. He lifts his head, blotting out the city lights behind him. “I can make that happen.”

Raising my hands, I frame his face with my palms. “Make me fly, Enzo.”

Chapter 11

Enzo

I run my hand along my neck again. Rowan had cleaned the blood off with a tissue and hand sanitizer, readily believing it was from a rowdy protest outside the make-believe pharmaceutical company I said I worked for. The lie makes me antsy, but there’s nothing to be done about it now.

It’s a necessary evil.

I hadn’t held back when I caught up with Elmo, and I hadn’t exactly been careful to avoid getting his blood on me. Elmo had lasted longer than I had expected. But the lack of showers and the piss on his pants must have gotten to him. Once he left the Bastoni de Pietro, he didn’t get far.

The fear that had leached out of him when he saw my face had fed the aggression that needed to be unleashed, and I had let it fly. I flex my hands as I think about how he would never see the light of day again or draw another breath.

Rowan keeps talking, her excitement not penetrating my muddled thoughts from my recent kill to the idea of Cassidy trying to work against my sister.

“Did you know that actual canals still exist under Canal Street?”

I nod at her, only half paying attention.

“I’ve heard rumors there is an abandoned subway station under Chinatown.” I’m not certain when she changed the topic, my thoughts so fixed on Elmo.

I nod again, but this time, the hurt I see flashing in her gaze penetrates my absorption. It gives me pause, and I pull my mind away from Elmo and the Albanians. Rowan must have done a lot of research to prepare for tonight. Sneaking away from her brother wouldn’t have been easy, and I’m sure this date is a raging disappointment for her thus far.

I’m acting like an ass.

My father’s voice would normally tell me I’m right, that I am a jerk, but I don’t hear his voice. Instead, it’s something different I feel—my own disappointment. I don’t want to see hurt in her gaze, especially not from me. She’s always so shyly happy, handing me her sweet, unguarded smiles. I want that. I want to know that I’m responsible for her happiness.

My stomach clenches at the thought. Since when did I give a fuck about someone else’s feelings?

I reach out a hand, and Rowan doesn’t hesitate in slipping hers into mine.

Jesus. I sigh internally.

She trusts me.

She shouldn’t.

My car is parked close, and I walk her to the passenger side and open the door. She shows no hesitation as she climbs in.

So fucking trusting.

When I get in I notice she’s fumbling with the seat belt. I reach across, and she freezes as I take the buckle and stretch the belt out before slowly sliding it into place with a click. “There.”

“Thanks.” She wets her lips, and I ease back into my seat, start the car, and pull away from the sidewalk. “No driver today?” she asks, glancing out the window, her leg jumping slightly.

“No. I like driving myself when I can.”

Why is she so nervous all of a sudden? I prefer when she trusts me. Reaching over, I place my hand on her knee, startling her. I try out a soft smile, the one she is used to seeing from me. “Easy, little bird. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

She swallows and nods, her gaze fixed on my hand with an oddly intent expression where it rests on her thigh. I remove it before I get any ideas and drag it higher to where I really want it.

The flow of traffic is slow, and as we stop and start between traffic lights, I send off some texts, letting Arturo know Elmo has been taken care of and that I won’t be back until later.

“You know texting and driving is one of the number one causes of accidents on our roads.” Rowan’s voice is tight.

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