Page 122 of Into the Fire

“Fucking keep Fox here,” Enzo said, still holding Rosalie. “Cole and I have business to tend to.”

“What the fuck is happening?” E shouted, looking like he was going to lose his shit.

“Don’t fucking do it,” Fox snarled, wiping at the bloody nose he had. He’d busted my lip with his fist, but I didn’t give a shit. “This is how you’ll lose her.”

“Wrong, Foxy,” I said to him, stepping back to join Enzo. “Can’t lose her to a motherfucker who is dead.”

And with that, we left the house, hauling a sobbing Rosalie with us.

THIRTY-NINE

ENZO

My head was a fucking mess as I drove at breakneck speeds to Anson's place. I’d cruised by his building on several occasions because getting a lay of the land was important to me. Rosalie’s sobbing didn’t help, nor did Cole’s constant swearing and punching of the dash.

Honestly, I felt betrayed. Humiliated. Disgusted. And just plain pissed off.

Rosalie’s crying wasn’t helping a fucking bit. I should have left her home, but I had a point to prove and maybe a murder to commit.

We squealed to a halt outside Anson’s, and I put the Escalade into park before getting out and dragging Rosalie with me.

“Don’t do this. Please, Enzo. Don’t. Don’t!” She squirmed, trying to reach and hold me, but I was beyond that. Cole gripped her tightly on her other bicep, and we hauled her ass right to his door as I banged hard on it.

Anson pulled the door open.

Cole pressed his gun to the center of Anson’s forehead.

“Bang, bang, motherfucker,” Cole snarled.

“What the fuck is going on?” Anson demanded, his blue eyes taking in Rosalie in tears while she continued to beg us to stop.

The first thing I noticed was how he didn’t have a goddamn care that a gun was pointed at him. The second was that Rosalie was his immediate concern.

“Get that fucking gun out of my face before I stuff it sideways up your ass, Cole,” Anson said tightly, his icy glare sliding from Rosalie to Cole.

Cole cocked his head at him. “Fuck you.”

Anson scoffed at him and backed up. “Get in here, you fucking lunatics, and release her.”

We stepped into his place, and I shut the door behind me.

“Now fucking let her go and tell me what’s going on.”

“Sit the fuck down,” Cole snapped at him, the gun still leveled on his head.

Rosalie sobbed softly, her small body trembling.

“You’re in my house, motherfucker,” Anson growled. “Lower your fucking weapon.”

“I will when you’re dead.”

Anson let out a laugh and shook his head.

I didn’t see it coming. Apparently, neither did Cole.

Anson moved like lightning.

One minute, he was in front of us with Cole’s gun on him. The next, Cole’s gun was in his hand, and he had it leveled on Cole’s forehead. He’d disarmed Cole with a move so fast it was just a blur.

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