Page 6 of Call You Mine

It’s been a year since I last came to Hillcrest to see him. Since the day I left, we’d kept in touch, though we limited our interactions to text messages and late-night phone calls I could make when Enzo was out late.

The unlikely friendship we’d formed in recent years, one we not only kept hidden from everyone around us but strictly platonic after the first drunken night we spent together—which we refused to talk about—was one of the few things left in life I truly cherished.

On the outside, we were complete opposites, yet we had so much in common. Both living in solitary even though we were supposed to have a forever friend in our twin, both hated and abandoned by our parents, and both left to fend for themselves, walking through this wretched life unable to trust, unable to truly live in peace.

The dark shadows which lingered around us had become the best of friends and although they were what brought us together, they also were what kept us apart.

Two individuals designed to be sworn enemies helplessly roamed the same forgotten world in search of one another.

I hadn’t reached out afraid something would happen to him if I did. I had a good reason, one he’d never understand unless he discovered the secret I was hiding from him, and I couldn’t let that happen.

The last time I came home, Enzo had me followed. He’d sent a few of his men to spy on me, paranoid I was coming home so often to a secret lover. Not that he cared, but it would bring him shame if his soldiers discovered he couldn’t keep me on a tight leash.

His men discovered I’d come to this very apartment and whose unit I was staying in. When I headed back to New York, Enzo picked me up from the airport in his private car and showed me footage of three of his men paying him a visit. I watched as the three men tried, and at first failed to hurt him, until they pulled out a gun and shot him in the shoulder.

A sharp shriek left me when suddenly the footage went black.

I thought I’d lost him. For three whole days, I cried myself to sleep with visions of him falling to the ground like he had in the video. It wasn’t until I snagged a burner phone from a maid that I called home to see if there was any news. Good or bad, they must have heard something.

The person I called was Stella. Not sure why I’d chosen her, but I figured she’d be the only one forgiving enough to answer without asking too many questions. I'd asked her how everyone was and she’d mentioned they were all at her house celebrating the New Year.

Relief washed over me, but I made Stella promise she wouldn’t tell anyone I’d called. I was worried someone else would get hurt because of me and I couldn’t risk that happening.

That night was the first time in years I didn’t cry myself to sleep, knowing that despite Enzo’s attempt to hurt him, he’d failed.

Just as I take the last step on the stairwell, two kids come rushing toward me, laughing and running from an older woman chasing after them. I move to the side just in time before they come tumbling into me. The woman stops and mutters an apology before continuing after them.

A pained smile crosses my lips at the sight of what I’m sure is a grandmother chasing after her troublesome grandsons. The look of love on the woman’s face, despite the agony the two troublemakers are causing, is completely foreign to me.

As I continue down the walkway, a shiver crawls up my spine as the slight breeze picks up, rushing up my bare legs. Clutching my arms across my chest, I look over my shoulder to ensure no one has followed me, but before I can turn back around, a hard body comes crashing right into me. The cold coffee in my hand splashes onto my coat, drenching me in oat milk.

“Ugh, are you fucking kidding me?” I cry out in anger, the insignificant accident apparently the last straw holding my sanity together.

The asshole who’s about to get a thousand-dollar heel shoved up his cocky ass doesn’t even bother to look up from his phone. He just scowls behind dark sunglasses and walks away with a simple shrug of his shoulders, ignoring the fact he rammed into me, spilled my iced coffee all over my chest.

“Watch it,” he growls, sending a wave of shivers up my spine at how deep and authoritative his tone is. As someone who’s dealt with her fair share of dangerous men high on power and the scent of their own shit, the tone shouldn’t surpriseme, but there’s something different about this guy. Something familiar, although he’s currently acting like a Class-A douche. “Stupid bitch,” he mutters under his breath and suddenly I stand corrected.

Son of a bitch.There’s nothing different about this jerk. “Excuse me, asshole,” I shout out on instinct. No one is calling me a bitch today and getting away with it, not with the shit I’ve dealt with in the last twenty-four hours.

Of course he doesn’t stop, just shakes his head, which is currently stuffed in a black beanie, and quickens his pace like he’s got somewhere more important to be. Without thinking twice, I rush after him, grabbing him by his arm and pulling him toward me.

He doesn’t budge and in the blink of an eye, I’m pushed back against a brick wall to my left, hard muscles pressed against my body while hot cigarette breath tickles my skin. “Careful there, little girl, you don’t want to piss me off, not today.” Both his arms are up against the wall on either side of me, caging me in.

My chest heaves as my breathing quickens. I want to scream and shout out for help, but no sound leaves my lips. The stranger moves in slightly closer, and the feel of the thick hair on his chin pricking my cheek accompanied by his broad shoulders and muscular chest pressing against me, sends a sudden jolt of desire through me making me inhale a sharp breath and forcing me to hold it in to suppress the moan I’m afraid I’ll let out.

This can’t be happening right now.Get a hold of yourself, Wynter.

“Now, touch me again and let’s see what happens,” he warns, yet instead of sounding like a threat, the humorous tone hidden under his breathy command makes it seem like he’s challenging me. Daring me to lay another hand on him.

I must still be suicidal because I don’t scream for help nor push back and run away from him. Bringing my handsup between us, I trail my shaky fingers up his chest, beneath the thin material of his t-shirt, and feel his hardened muscles against my fingertips.

“Like this,” I murmur, breathier than I’d planned, my eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses focused on his chest, afraid to meet his gaze. But it’s the way my voice comes out, barely a whisper able to escape me that has me trembling.

I can’t gauge his full reaction. His eyes are hidden behind dark Ray-Ban sunglasses, but his mouth twitches like he’s biting down from the inside. Probably trying to hold back from murdering me in plain sight.

It’s obvious the assholes got a temper. Lucky for him, there’s no one in sight.

Suddenly, the scene before me is all too familiar—the feel of Enzo’s body pressed against me as his hands roamed my body, still fresh in my mind. He’d never forced himself on me, not like he tried to last night, and the moment I’d refused him, he fell into madness.

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