Page 18 of The Prizes We Win
“Hey,” Joe sighs with relief as she makes her way toward me.
Scooping her up in my arms, I bury my face in her neck as she wraps her legs around me. “Hey, Mama.”
She lets me hold her for a moment before leaning back and taking my face in her hands. “You’re okay?”
“I’m okay. They didn’t stand a chance.” I wink at her and smile softly. I kiss her deeply until I feel Enzo come up to my side.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” he says to her as I put her back on the floor.
“Why is it you are always getting into trouble?” she asks him with a smile.
Enzo shrugs nonchalantly. “Habit, I suppose.” He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her into him. “How do you know it’s not Big Daddy over here gettingmeinto trouble?”
Joe playfully rolls her eyes at Enzo’s antics. “For the same reason you constantly call him Big Daddy even though he hates it. You’re a shit-distruber, Lorenzo Santoro.” She quickly kisses his lips. “And you know it.”
“If that ain’t the fuckin’ truth,” I mumble.
Enzo looks over at me, and me at him. The two of us stare at one another, likely revisiting everything that happened in the boat. “Ummmm…” Joe’s voice breaks my concentration. Shepoints her finger between me and Enzo, and her eyes light up with mischief. “What’s happening here?”
“Nothing,” he and I answer all two quickly.
Her eyes narrow, but her smile remains. “Mhmmm. Riiiiight. We will circle back to this later.” Should have known she’d recognize something was up. Joe’s bullshit meter is spot on. Always is. Suddenly her brows pinch and she looks around Enzo. “Where is she?”
Enzo nods over his shoulder. “She’s in the elevator. Doesn’t want to come out. Figured it was best to wait for you. She’s terrified Joe. I don’t know for sure what was happening to her in that house, but it’s pretty obvious it wasn’t good.”
“I wrapped a blanket around her, but I’m pretty sure all she’s wearing is that T-shirt.”
Joe’s eyes fill with sadness. “Okay. I’ll go talk to her.”
“Where are Luca and Seb?” I ask.
“They’re on the couch. They didn’t want to hide only to show up later and scare her, but they’re keeping their distance. Why don’t you two go sit with them.” She kisses Enzo on the cheek before standing on her toes to do the same to me.
Joe steps around Enzo and makes her way toward the elevator. “God, I fucking love her,” Enzo says yet again.
“Yeah,” I answer.
“We really should tell her one of these days.”
I look over at him to find his eyes already back on me. “Yeah, we really should.”
13
Josephine
As I approach the elevator, the woman inside finally comes into view. Immediately my chest tightens.
Because when she locks eyes with me, I know.
As a girl who dealt with a monster, one who did unimaginable things to her, I know the look on her face. I know because it’s the same one that looked back at me in the mirror for years.
She’s plastered herself against the side of the elevator, arms tightly wrapped around her center, each hand fisting the corners of the blanket she has wrapped around her shoulders. Tears stream down her pale face as her chin quivers with each broken sob.
She has wavy bright-red hair, but not the obnoxious kind of red. The kind that most girls dream of having. The kind that looks like it’s the color of a perfect fall day. The kind that no matter how hard you try, you could never recreate in a salon.And even through the tears, I can tell from here she has the most beautiful hazel eyes. She looks to be about five-foot-three on a good day, and maybe a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. This poor girl would have a hard time fending off one man, let alone the three that were chasing her.
Once I get to the threshold of the elevator I stop. And despite the overwhelming sadness I suddenly feel, I smile. “I’m Josephine, but my friends call me Joe.”
“I-I’m”—a broken sob slips past her lips—“I’m Anya.”
