Eight
EIGHT
Enzo
She didn’t say anything during the walk home, and I didn’t either.
Had no fucking idea what to say anyway.
All of this was new to me.
Not assholes like Fabiano.
That little skirmish was nothing.
Just me reacting to noise on pure muscle memory.
But Molly…
She may as well have been a fucking spaceship, and nothing in my toolbox was equipped to handle her.
Nico said I was fifty percent temper, fifty percent bullshit.
The perfect combination for a Moretti capo.
To be whatever the fuck I needed and wanted to be for Molly was beyond me.
That was why it had taken me so long to approach her.
I’d been gone the first time I’d seen her at Carlo’s.
Dazed in an instant and hooked beyond reason.
It pained me to admit it, but Molly affected me like no one else ever had.
Maybe no one else ever would.
And that was something I couldn’t allow.
I needed to keep my distance.
It was the only way I could try to maintain my equilibrium.
If I wasn’t careful, I’d do something stupid, something unforgivable, like fall in love with her.
I intended to start today.
When we reached Molly’s place, I prepared to leave her.
Usually, I’d come up, but I didn’t trust myself with that right now.
“So,” Molly said when she reached the building’s steps.
Molly studied me like she sensed something was up, but I wouldn’t confirm or deny that.
“So what?” I said, still distant from her.
“You look like you have something on your mind, Enzo. If there’s something you need to say, say it,” she said.
“If I have something to say, I will,” I countered.
“Good,” she said, giving me her dazzling smile.
“I'm glad that we agree. So say it.”
“You’re such a fucking headache.” I sighed.
She shrugged.
“Pot, kettle, etc.” Her lips lifted in a slight smile before she turned serious. “What’s on your mind?”
Clearly, she wasn’t going to let this go.
“Let’s go upstairs and talk,” I said.
“Come on.” She started to walk, and I followed behind her, wondering how the hell this had happened. After all that bullshit about keeping my distance, and here I was.
Molly closed her door, and then went to the kitchen. I followed behind her and took the glass she handed me. She made this awesome flavored water with fruit and mint. It was delicious, sweet, a little spicy, refreshing.
Just like the woman herself.
I looked around Molly’s kitchen and was again struck by the comfort I felt here. The entire apartment smelled faintly of lemons, the smell stronger here in her kitchen. I assumed it was whatever cleaner she used to keep the place spotless. I’d never seen her clean, but the only time there was ever anything out of place was because I’d moved it. From the chipped mug Molly held to the plush orange mat in front of the sink, everything about this place was Molly. I treasured it.
Molly took a sip of her own water and then sat her mug on the counter. She looked at me, clearly waiting.
Surprisingly patient.
I took a deep breath, then met her eyes.
“Did I scare you today?” I asked.
I tried to keep my voice strong, but at the end, I trailed off, became a little more quiet than I ordinarily would have been.
“Does it matter?”
I glared at her.
“I wouldn’t have asked if it didn’t matter, Molly.”
It would be easy to get pissed, but now that I had asked the question, I wouldn’t let myself get distracted.
“So what exactly are you asking? Are you asking if I was scared of how you beat the ever-loving fuck out of Fabiano?”
I nodded. “Yeah. That. I mean, I know one hundred percent latex-free balloons can be terrifying—especially when they are contorted into all kinds of shapes—but I think you handled those okay,” I said.
She was kind enough to smile at my pathetic attempt at a joke. That brief little lift of her lips wrecked me. Reminded me of how irretrievably gone I was, not like I’d forgotten. And then she leaned back, considering.
“No,” she finally said.
She spoke the words simply, as if she had thought about them and then made her decision and there was nothing else to it.
“You didn’t try to jump in,” I said.
She cocked her head and looked at me like I was the dumbest person on planet Earth.
“Of course I didn’t. What the fuck do I look like trying to break up a fistfight?” she said.
I laughed. “Smart girl.”
She smiled and then went serious. “But no, Enzo. I wasn’t afraid.”
She reached over and grazed her thumb against my knuckles.
“I guess I should have offered you some ice or something for those,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it,” I responded.
I barely felt a sting. And in truth—though I wouldn’t tell Molly that—I liked the pain. It reminded me of what I had done and who I had done it for.
“Although…”
“Why did you do that?” she said.
“Smack the shit out of Fabiano?”
“Yeah. I don’t know what you have going on with him, and I don’t care to, but popping off like that…” She trailed off.
“He called you a bitch,” I said simply.
“And he still has my two dollars, but that didn’t mean you needed to break his jaw,” she countered.
She smiled, but I grabbed her hand, holding her gaze until she met mine.
“Molly. Nobody—and I mean nobody —disrespects you. They don’t even look at you wrong. Not while I’m there. And not if I hear about it. He disrespected you. He paid the price for that,” I said.
She nodded like she understood.
“Oh, I get it. So he talked shit about me, which is like talking shit about you, which is something that’s not acceptable in your world or whatever,” she said.
“No,” I said.
Something in my voice must have gotten her attention, because she looked at me, her eyes wide.
“He insulted you. He should die for that.”
“Come on, Enzo,” she said, trying to pull her hand from mine.
I didn’t let her go.
“I mean it, Molly. He did and he should have died. And if you hadn’t intervened, he might have.”
She blinked, then nodded.
I should have left well enough alone, but I couldn’t.
“Are you scared now?” I asked.
“Should I be?” she said.
“Probably,” I said.
She deserved the truth. Deserved so much more, but I could at least give her that.
“I’m not going to lie to you, Molly. Soft things, soft people, don’t survive my world. My mother didn’t,” I said.
I don’t know why I mentioned it, but once the words started, I couldn’t stop them.
“My mom said she was tough. That she could handle the life. But she couldn’t. So she packed my sister up and left when I was five,” I said.
“Did she…?” Molly asked.
“Die?” I supplied.
She nodded, her expression fearful.
“Nah. She lives in Arizona,” I said.
Molly smiled, though I didn’t miss the tears glistening in her eyes.
“She made her choice. My father respected that. It didn’t need to be more dramatic than that,” he said.
“What about you?” she asked.
“What about me?”
“Your mother left you,” she said.
“She did. But I get it. She loved me. Do you know what the last thing she told me was?” I said.
“No,” she whispered.
I chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know that. But she told me soft things don’t survive. So I couldn’t be soft. She told me she wasn’t soft, either—but she was leaving for me.”
“I don’t know your mother, and I don’t want to judge her, but she’s a liar. She left for herself,” Molly said, her voice stern.
“You mad at my mom for walking out on me?” I asked.
It was kind of sweet, Molly being hurt on my behalf. It showed she cared, and that fucked me up.
“If you’re okay with it, I guess I am. And sometimes walking out is the best thing a parent can do. But they don’t have to make up stories about why or tell you that it’s for your own good,” Molly said.
I heard the bitter stirrings of familiarity there. Would have been able to guess that her story was much like my own, even if I hadn’t dug it up already.
“You think the same about your folks?” I asked.
She shrugged.
“I know exactly who my parents were and who they weren’t. But I had my Gram. Better than a hundred of either one of them. So I can’t complain,” she said.
“Me, neither,” I said.
I went quiet then, my hand still in hers.
Her eyes met mine, and in a breath, the air changed.
In that moment, I felt closer to Molly than I had to any other person, including Nico, who I had known my entire life.
It scared the shit out of me.
And it was so intoxicating.
Made me feel higher than any drug I had ever taken.
I leaned over and kissed Molly softly.
And as I made love to her that night again and again, I knew I’d never be able to let her go.