Page 12 of The Prizes We Win
“You know what I mean,” Jasper clarifies. “Am I clear?”
Even though the five of us, Joe included, are abundantly aware that Jasper is no match for us, our training, or our skills, we understand the point he is trying to make, nor do we want to deny what he’s asking of us any more than he does. We all share a look before we answer in unison, “Clear.”
Josephine smiles softly.
“And Joe Joe?”
“Yeah, Jas?
“You don’t go down there without one of them on the other side of that door. Promise me?”
Joe pauses for a moment, and I can feel the ache in my teeth as I clench my jaw. The thought of her in that man’s hands, thethought of him having the opportunity to hurt heragain,has my blood boiling.
“Promise me, Joe?” Jasper snaps.
“I promise,” Joe finally answers, but there’s something about the look on her face that isn’t sitting right with me.
“Call me when you’re done, okay?”
“I will. I love you, Jas.”
“I love you too, Joe.”
The line goes silent, and she looks at each of us as we sit around the table, barely touched plates of breakfast in front of each of us.
“You sure this is how you want to handle this, Sweetheart?” Enzo asks gently.
“Yes,” she answers without any hesitation. “If he wants to keep trying to destroy my life, the least he can do is look me in the eyes as he does it.”
For a moment, I let my eyes wander to Luca. It’s extremely rare that I’m the one exhibiting this kind of behavior and for him to remain calm. But it’s almost like he can sense how on edge I feel, just like I sensed it in him the day Enzo and Joe were cornered in the cafe. However, his meltdown was far less subtle than I’m hoping to be right now. Somehow, the two of us have always known what the other needs without us having to express it. Yet, when I look at Joe looking at me, I can tell I’m being far more transparent than intended.
Sighing, I push my plate to the side and stretch my arms across the table, turning my palms up toward her, waiting for her to grab them. Letting go of Enzo’s hand she places both of hers in mine. I brush the pads of my thumbs across the small scrapes on her knuckles and confess, “I just don’t want to be responsible for him hurting you again.”
“None of what happened was your fault. It wasn’t any of yours,” she clarifies as she quickly looks toward the rest of theguys, before meeting my stare again. “You are the reason we’re still alive. Without you, we would be dead in the middle of Seventh Street. You saved me. Andyou”—she looks at them all again—“savedus.We are not responsible for the actions of my father or the Bratva, but we sure as hell are going to find out exactly what is going on here. I just need you all to trust me. Trust that I can handle this.”
“We will be outside that room the entire time. One word and I’m busting through the door, Joe,” Dante’s deep voice commands.
“I know you will, Big Guy.” She winks at him before looking at Luca. “You’ve been uncharacteristically unopinionated. You’re okay with this?”
Luca exhales an exhausted breath, and just as he’s about to speak, Enzo interjects, “He’s probably still in a post-sex coma.” Luca and Joe share a look, and Dante, Enzo, and I all smirk. “Please,” he clarifies, “You thought the three of us wouldn’t notice the minute you left the room after everything that happened yesterday?”
Joe laughs softly and rolls her eyes before refocusing her attention on Luca and raising a brow. “I think you’ve more than proved you can handle yourself when it comes to your dad. But just know, that’s where the solo flying begins and ends, Josephine.”
“Yes, sir.” Her soft smile lingers as she looks from Luca back to me.
I give her hands a gentle squeeze. “I love you, Joe.”
None of the guys outwardly acknowledge the four words that just left my mouth, nor do they know that this isn’t the first time I’ve said this to her. But I’m not going to clarify that fact, nor am I going to be shy about saying it just because they haven’t. No more wasting time.
“I love you, Sebastian.”
And even though none of them have said it to her, as far as I’m aware, as the silence in the room lingers, you can feel it coming from every single person. Love for one another that someone would be happy to stumble upon once in this lifetime, let alone four times over.
Love for our family.
The sound of Enzo’s fork hitting his plate cuts through the silence. And after he shovels a pile of his breakfast into his mouth, he mumbles, “So I guess none of us are going to work today? Who wants to be the one to call Clara?”
It only takes a split second for each of us to shout, “Not it!”
