Page 10 of The Carver

“Scared of you?” he asked incredulously.

I gave a slight shake of my head. “She’s scared of me and my world—even though her worthless ex is a part of it too. I’ve never put this much effort into a woman and received nothing back. Fucking bullshit, man.”

He was quiet for a while. “To be fair…she was married for three years, and she’s been single for two months. Shit is still raw.”

I turned on him.

“That is not me saying I’m right. It’s just me giving her a little bit of grace. What are the odds that the guy she saw in the bar is the Butcher? She just wanted some good dick, and she got a criminal kingpin who’s been obsessed with her since the moment he saw her. She probably thought it was a one-night stand, and it’s turned into a complicated relationship she wasn’t looking for. It’s a lot.”

“I thought you didn’t like her.”

“I never said I didn’t like her. I can’t dislike someone I don’t know. This is kinda your fault for continuing to expect something that she’s said she’s not ready for—multiple times. You’re used to getting your way because you make shit happen. You can’t do that with a woman. It can’t be what you want just because you want it.”

I said nothing to that, not wanting to admit he was probably right.

“How long has it been since you last spoke to her?”

“Couple days.”

“She hasn’t said anything?”

She hadn’t texted me, and I refused to text her ever again. “No.”

“Then it sounds like whatever it was is over.”

“Yeah…I guess it is.” I wouldn’t fight for her anymore. I’d told her if she didn’t meet me halfway, I was gone—so I was gone. There was no looking back.

At that moment, my phone lit up with a text—from her.

I looked at the screen, staring at her name for a couple seconds before I looked at the message below.

Can we talk?

It wasn’t the message I wanted to see, so I felt my nostrils flare in annoyance. I should just ghost her to show her how little she could mean to me when she was on my bad side, but some inexplicable obligation made me write back.No.

Luca watched me the whole time, watched me slide the phone back into my pocket. “What was that about?”

“Martin. Just wants to make sure the deposit will be ready tomorrow.”

He continued to watch me, his eyes suspicious like he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t call me out on it.

The SUV pulled up to the house and stopped at the curb.

I made the call and listened to the phone ring several times before he finally picked up.

He spoke in a raspy voice, like he’d been dead asleep when the phone rang. It was a number he didn’t recognize because he didn’t have my direct line, but he answered it anyway because he knew a call in the middle of the night was important. “What is it?”

“Meet me outside.”

There was a pause over the line. He didn’t ask who I was, like he fucking knew exactly who was calling.

“Don’t come out, and I’ll break through like last time.” I hung up and left the car. The gates in front of his property had been repaired, and the guard on duty stared at me from the other side, motionless in fear like he remembered me from last time. “Open it.”

He didn’t move an inch, quickly accessing the situation and his options.

“Don’t make me pull out my gun.”

He moved to the door and hit the button. The gates opened.

---