Page 27 of The Prizes We Win
“Okay,” she whispers into my shoulder.
“Or if any of those boys put so much as a toe out of line. They like to act tough, but they’re scared of me.”
She laughs into my shoulder, waits a moment longer, and then pulls away. “Alright, I’m ready.”
Dante and Enzo quickly climb out of the car, and Anya follows them. I watch out the window as the two of them hand her her bags. She hugs them both. Dante responds with an awkward pat on the back, and Enzo whispers something in her ear before kissing her softly on the cheek. She gives me a small wave through the window before grabbing her bags and walking into the airport. Dante and Enzo get back into the car, and I don’t waste any time leaning over the center console and kissing them both on the cheek. “You’re good men, too.”
18
Josephine
Later that night, at precisely 2:37 am, I can’t take it any longer. With Sebastian sound asleep, I sneak out from beneath his arm, throw on a pair of his sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and quietly make my way to the elevator. Once inside, my finger hovers over the button for a moment before finally giving in and hitting the button for the floor below us.
When the doors open, I immediately spot him sleeping on the cot in the corner through the one-way glass.
Taking a deep breath, I walk to the door, pausing a moment when my hand wraps around the handle.
You can do this, Joe.
Turning the handle, I throw the door open, letting it slam against the wall. Dad wakes from his sleep and moves to a standing position in half a second. “Time to talk, Dad.”
19
Sebastian
“Care to explain to me what you’re doing down here?”
“Shit.”
I push off from the wall, my hands fisted tight in my sweat pockets. I don’t even have a fucking shirt on I came down here so fast. “Yeah. Shit is right. What the fuck, Joe?”
Joe closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. And when she opens them, I’m even more pissed off because I don’t see a single ounce of regret. “Sebastian… listen. I just—”
I hold my hand up in her direction. I’m fully aware how much the gesture will piss her off, but I just—I need a fucking second. “Upstairs. Now.”
“Seb—”
“Now!”
Joe’s eyes widen in shock, but they quickly morph from shock to anger, and I immediately know I fucked up. But instead offighting back, she simply walks past me and into the elevator. Turning on the balls of her feet, she pops a hip, crosses her arms over her chest, raises her brow, purses her lips, and glares me down.
Now she’s just not unapologetic, she’s pissed.
Good.
Because, so am I.
The moment the elevator door opens she storms out. Not even giving me a second thought. “Josephine,” I snap, and she doesn’t so much as look over her shoulder.
Catching up to her, I wrap my hand around her forearm, stopping her in her tracks, and spin her around to look at me. Slowly, her eyes move from my face, to my tattooed hand around her arm, and back up. “Sebastian. Let. Go.”
“Don’t walk away when I’m trying to talk to you,” I snarl.
Red blooms across her face, and I know she’s on the verge of it. But I can’t get myself to stop. “You have three seconds to let go of my arm. One…”
“Not until you tell me what the hell you were doing down there. Alone!”
“Lower your voice,” she hisses. “Two…”
