Page 51 of Damaged & Deadly

“Like we would want to set foot in your druggie den,” Dante sneers, making me glower at him. He’s not fucking helping the situation.

I wrack my brain, trying to think of where they could hide out for the time being. “There’s my apartment…” I begin, thinking aloud as I chew on my bottom lip. Except, someone on Giovanni’s payroll was in there—Santos probably, but there’s no way to know if anyone else knows about it.

“It’s okay, Spitfire,” Enzo reassures, his calm facade garnering my attention as I turn to look at him. “I have a place where we can stay low for a few days.”

“But—”

“It’s off the radar. Giovanni doesn’t know about it. We will be safe there.”

I stand there, gnawing on my bottom lip in indecision. I don’t want us all to separate. I feel like something terrible will happen if we’re not all together, but Cain’s reigning silence behind me says everything about where he stands on the matter. He won’t be changing his mind.

“Okay,” I eventually agree when Cain growls low in frustration, basically telling me to hurry the fuck up. I’m reminded of the infuriating asshole I met before he softened toward me, but I refuse to let myself snap at him. Ignoring the fuming bastard behind me, I keep my eyes pinned on Enzo and Dante. “Call me?”

“We will. Our numbers are in your phone.” Enzo tugs me forward, his lips meeting mine in a bruising kiss that promises I won’t forget him any time soon. When we part, he scowls over my head at Cain and Oliver, showing how angry he is about parting. Though, I don’t think either of them would have actually come with us.

“You better take fucking care of her,” he snaps, but I don’t hear the response he gets as Dante wraps his hand around mine, fingering the wedding band that I haven’t removed from my finger since our wedding day.

“I’m going against every instinct telling me to throw you over my shoulder and take you with us,” he murmurs low in my ear. “You’re mine,mia vita.”

I look up into eyes that seem pitch-black in the dark light with the raging storm of emotions he’s struggling to work through. Yet instead of responding, I ask, “Why do you call me that?”

“Because you are. You are the bright spark that keeps me going, that tethers me to the light and prevents me from falling into darkness. Even when I didn’t know who you were, your blue eyes would cement me when I felt the ground slipping beneath my shoes. It’s those eyes that have kept me alive these last eight years, and it’s you who is making me… feel alive now.” He places his fist over his heart. “It’s more than just sparks now. There’s this constant… lightness in here. I feel it every time I look at you. Think of you. Touch you.” Lifting the hand from over his heart, he reaches out to stroke his thumb over my cheek. “You are my life. My reason for breathing. For fighting. For wanting to be better. You are pushing me towantto feel. To try and work through the chaos rather than shoving it into a box.”

Tears sting my eyes, unable to believe this cold-hearted man who considers himself so incapable of love can say such beautiful, heart-rendering words.

“I’m not making any promises—”

“You don’t need to make any promises,” I choke out, knowing he was about to ruin it all by telling me he can't promise to love me, to ever feel for me what he thinks I deserve.

I set my palm over his heart and, blinking the tears away, I stare up into his eyes that shine with more vulnerability than I’ve seen before. “You don’t need to promise. I have faith for the both of us.”

Leaning in, I press my lips against his in a thank you. In anI believe in you, kiss that he doesn’t hesitate to deepen, claiming me as thoroughly as Enzo did a moment ago.

When we break apart, his shutters are back down with his cold, hard mask firmly in place. “That doesn’t mean I won’t come and get you and chain you to whatever bed I’m sleeping in if you take too long to come back to me on your own.”

A shiver of desire runs down my spine at his possessive tone and the seriousness on his face.

“Now you’re just asking for me to make you chase me,” I tease, causing him to growl low in the back of his throat.

Before he can respond, Cain’s curt tone snaps through the air. “Are we about fucking done now?!”

Sighing, I take a step back. When I glance down, I notice Dante’s hands are coiled into tight fists at his side, giving away just how much he’s holding himself back from yanking me over there and taking me with them.

My feet are frozen in place, and I find myself unable to take the necessary step away from them until Cain makes another aggravated noise in the back of his throat. Forcing myself into action, I give them both a tight smile and with trepidation eating away at my insides, I turn on my heel and follow Cain and Oliver down the tunnel, praying to a god that’s never once listened to me to help Dante and Enzo escape unscathed.

***

It’s a tense journey back to the house. With every passing street, Cain’s anxious energy escalates until it blankets us all, creating an anxious and uncomfortable atmosphere within the car. Oliver is quiet and lost in his thoughts, and I frequently notice his hands clench around the steering wheel.

Reaching the house, Cain has his door thrown open and is out of the car before it’s even completely stopped. He rushes through the gate in the chain-link fence and up the path. Meanwhile, Oliver and I scurry out of the car behind him, chasing Cain into the house.

“Where is she?” he barks when we spot Marcus in the living room.

“Upstairs.” He jerks his chin upward to the floor above us. “We put her in your old room.”

Cain is on the move again before he’s even finished speaking, taking the stairs two at a time in his rush to get to his sister. However, Oliver seems frozen at the bottom of the stairs as his eyes follow Cain’s path.

“You should go,” I urge him. “She will want to see familiar faces.”

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