Page 72 of Unleashed
He takes my wrist and pulls me close, and I crane my neck to keep our gazes locked. “You and I, we’re not coming back.”
“That’s part of the agreement,” Anthony says firmly. “I help them, and he takes you away from all this, leaving everything behind.”
“I don't understand.”
Anthony walks up to me, slower than I’ve ever seen him move, and surprisingly, Isaia lets me go, stepping back, giving me space with my best friend.
“For as long as I’ve known you, you wanted nothing more than to escape this life that’s been forced on you since your mom married Michele. As Murphy would have it, you became best friends with someone tied to this life and fell in love with someone from a world you’ve always hated.”
My heart twists at the sincerity in his words, like he knows the price I’ve paid over and over again.
His hand lifts, hesitates midair like he has to fight through miles of memory just to reach me. When his palm finally cups my cheek, it’s warm, steady, but trembling at the edges, his thumb brushing beneath my eye, soft, affectionate, like he’s memorizing the shape of me in case it’s the last time.
“You need this, Everly. We both know it. You will never be happy, never find peace if you don’t escape it all. And if I canhelp make that happen, by God, I’ll do it. Even if it’s the last thing I ever do for you.”
The raw ache in his voice slices me open. “Anthony?—”
“You deserve to be free of all this, Everly. You deserve to be happy…you and your baby.”
This time, Isaia’s the one clearing his throat, a warning, and Anthony removes his hand, stepping back. The man I see now, and the man who kissed me in the hospital, are two vastly different people. There’s a surrender I haven’t seen before, a resigned acceptance of something he can’t change. Yet, beneath the weariness, there’s still that familiar ache, the trace of longing he can’t quite bury.
Anthony looks at Isaia, then back at me. “I finally understand that what I want doesn’t matter. What matters is what you want. What makes you happy and keeps you safe.” His throat works, jaw locking as if he has to choke the words out. “Even if that means I have to stand next to him instead of between you.”
“I…” My voice falters. There's a lump forming in my throat, a mixture of relief, sadness, and fear.
I swallow, my gaze shifting between the two men—my best friend and the love of my life. Mortal enemies standing on the same side of a line…for me.
Isaia watches me closely, his gaze dark and intense.
“You’re leaving your family behind,” I say to him, knowing how close they all are. “Your brothers. Leandra.”
“No.” He shakes his head then places a palm on my belly. “You are my family now. You are all that matters to me.”
The words detonate inside me, so raw and absolute that my knees nearly buckle. Heat floods my chest, my throat tightening until I can barely breathe. For Isaia—whose entire existence has revolved around blood ties, loyalty, the Del Rossa name—to say this, to cut himself off from everything he’s ever known… for me. For us. It’s something I can’t put into words.
A thousand emotions crash through me. A love so sharp it hurts, fear of the risk he’s taking, disbelief that I’m worth it, and the unbearable weight of hope.
Isaia leans down, forehead brushing mine. “I’ll burn every bridge. Cut every tie. As long as I have you, Everly, I’ll never need anything else.”
There’s nothing I can say to that, nothing but, “Okay. I’ll go with you.”
Isaia’s eyes flicker with something. Relief, possibly, but it’s fiercer than that. Like a man starved, finally sinking his teeth into what he’s craved. His mouth crashes to mine before I can take another breath.
The kiss is brutal, desperate—his lips devouring mine like he’s trying to fuse us together, like he’ll never let me go again. His hand fists in my hair, the other still braced against my belly, anchoring me, owning me, kissing me until my lungs burn, until my knees threaten to give out, until all I can taste is him.
I clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer, trying to match his hunger but losing myself instead. Losing all sense of where I end and he begins.
“I’m right here,” Anthony comments behind us.
Isaia breaks the kiss, his hand retaining its grip on my hair, his eyes still wearing that same fierce hunger that threatens to undo me.
Slowly, he twists to face Anthony, his gaze frosty. “How about that other leg, Paladino?”
“How about you kiss my ass?”
“Okay—” I slap my hands together, “when do we leave?”
Isaia doesn’t hesitate. “Now.”
