“This.” He motions between us with his gloved hands. “I forgive you.”
“What?”
I couldn’t have heard him right…
He pushes Astrid out of the way slightly and steps up to me. “What you did was really shitty. Beyond shitty, but at the end of the day, we’re family and we always will be. No matter what kind of things we do to each other. You bet against me, and I broke your ribs. So, we’re even.”
With that, he saunters to the edge of the ring, then slides under the ropes and stalks back toward the locker room.
I sag against Isaac’s hold.
He shakes his head, helping me toward ropes. “You’re such a fucking idiot, kid.”
Isaac isn’t wrong.
“I am.”
And I didn’t learn my lesson.
I let Allegra walk right into my life and betray me. I didn’t learn anything about making rash decisions with my heart instead of my head. But I won’t make that mistake again.
* * *
ALLEGRA
THREE DAYS LATER
I would have thought,after weeks of traveling, going from country to country, tournament to tournament, that finally being home at my place in New York would be a relief.
Comforting.
Relaxing even.
But in the last couple of days, since I came back from Vegas, none of those things have been true.
Nothing has felt right.
Not my bed.
Not my clothes.
Not my life.
If I can even call this living.
It’s as though I’m wandering around in a thick, dark fog, with no sense of direction, unable to find anything solid to cling to or orient myself with. And it’s all because of Coen.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
When I said those words to him, I meant them.
I never intended to fall for him.
Never intended to care about what Satriano was doing to him, about how he was twisting a knife in the Hawkes’ backs and forcing Coen to be a pawn.
It was just par for the course.
The same things Satriano has done for as long as I’ve known him.