Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
WINTER
It’s hard not to blame myself for everything.
Rationally, I know it’s not true. If this was happening to Violet, or any other woman, I’d be adamantly insisting it’s not their fault.
I would kindly but firmly explain why it’s the man to blame, and not them. I’d remind them that hindsight is twenty-twenty and there was no way to know the guy they thought was normal in the beginning would turn out to be an abusive criminal.
I’d tell them that just because they missed a red flag didn’t mean they deserved to be hurt.
And I know I’m right.
It’s just really hard to make myself believe it.
When I think about what my aunt is going through—forced to stay in an unfamiliar place, knowing the house she’s lived in for over twenty years is in shambles and she can’t even go there to fix things—how can I not feel guilty?
As I watch Enzo’s friends give up their time to play bodyguard, I feel guilty. Even though they’re so kind about it, I can’t help wondering if deep down, they resent me for it.
And Enzo. He’s done so much for me. Upgrading the security at his house, paying Will extra to work extra hours at the store, missing sleep each time he sits with me after one of my nightmares…
It’s not that I don’t believe him when he says he wants to do it. I just wish…
My phone pings with a text.
Are you still there?
Crap. How long has Violet been waiting for me to reply while I’ve been wallowing in my silent self-flagellation?
I glance at her last message—sent five minutes ago, not too terrible—and quickly type out a reply.
Yes. Sorry. Just got distracted for a second.
Three dots blink for a second.
Are you sure you’re doing okay? I know you SAY you are. But I’m worried.
I push myself up from the couch and head over to the window, looking out at the expanse of freshly-cut grass and the thick brush of trees beyond. The sky is a bright wash of blue above the treeline, the morning sun already drying the condensation from the night before.
It’s a perfect summer day, the kind that makes me ache to be outside for it—swimming or walking through the park or lounging on the patio with a new book to read.
Or spending it with Enzo. Doing any of those things with him would be even better.
Bringing my attention back to Violet, who knows me too well to buy my claims of being fine , I send her a more truthful reply.
I’m sort of okay. Most of the time.
Her response comes right away.
What do you mean?
Just as I’m about to answer, Knox comes in from outside. He lifts his chin and gives me a small smile. “Just finished a quick check of the perimeter. I’m going to make some coffee. Do you want some?”
“That’s okay.” I already had coffee with Enzo before he left for the store. It’s one of my favorite times of the day, which is why I always set an alarm so I can be up before he leaves. I love debating which coffee variety to choose next, making a little game of it, acting like we’re coffee connoisseurs and saying things like you can really taste the chicory in this one or this one has slight notes of barrel-aged whiskey .
I have no idea what I’m saying, and I’m pretty sure Enzo doesn’t either. But I don’t care. It’s silly and fun and sometimes we hold hands and now he always gives me a hug before he leaves.
I don’t say all that to Knox, of course. Instead, I smile back at him and say, “I’m good with coffee. But I can make something for breakfast if you don’t mind waiting a few minutes.”
He brightens. Violet’s theory proves right again. “That would be great, Winter. If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
Once I assure him I don’t, I get back to my response to Violet.
Sorry again. Knox was just checking on me. But… I feel okay when I’m talking to you. Or when I’m with Enzo. But when I’m alone… it’s hard to get rid of the sticky thoughts. Like I should have figured things out sooner. That I’m causing all this trouble and I don’t deserve the help I’m getting.
A few seconds go by before Violet’s message appears.
Winter! You didn’t do anything wrong. Not even a little. You aren’t causing trouble. Jerkface Thomas is. And people are helping you because they want to. Because they care about you. From what you’ve told me about Enzo, he definitely wants to.
A pause, and then.
It sounds like he’d do just about anything for you.
My heart does that fluttering thing again.
Would he?
Do I want him to?
Yes , my heart whispers.
That irritating, logical voice asks, Is it too soon?
Do I care? Does it matter when everything with Enzo feels so right?
I’m debating what to tell Violet when a call comes in.
I don’t recognize the number or area code, so I almost decline it. But then it hits me—it could be Aunt Linette, calling from the ranch. She forgets to charge her phone sometimes, so she could be calling from someone else’s number or possibly a landline there.
So I tap the call to answer.
At first, there’s nothing but silence. Then a click.
My stomach squinches into a tiny knot. Even as I repeat a shaky, “Hello?” something inside me knows this isn’t right.
“You fucking bitch!”
The voice is rough. Jagged. Filled with rage.
Thomas.
Oh, God.
“You’re going to regret what you did.” A rough chuckle sends icy tendrils down my spine. “You can’t hide forever. Neither can your aunt.”
A whimper starts in my chest and works its way up my throat.
My lungs seize.
But he can’t get to me. Can’t get to Aunt Linette. Enzo promised.
Thomas’s voice dips dangerously. “Come back to me. Now . Or you’ll regret it.”
As soon as Enzo gets home, he makes a beeline toward me.
His features are stony, all hard lines and angles. His anger is a palpable thing.
This isn’t the gentle, sweet Enzo I usually see. This is how I imagine Special Forces Enzo would look—all intense and focused and poised to leap into battle.
But then he drops to his knees in front of me and cups my cheek, his thumb brushing feather-light across my skin. His expression softens, his gaze turning dark with worry. “Winter, hun. Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Although I’d sound more convincing if my voice wasn’t trembling. Firming my voice, I add, “You didn’t have to come home. I’m okay.”
“Winter…” His lips press into a thin line. “Of course I’m coming back. As soon as Knox called me…” He casts a quick glance at Knox. “Is the house secure?”
“Completely,” Knox answers. His easy smiles from earlier are gone. Now he’s grim-faced, alert, and intimidating, his thickly-muscled arms crossed over his chest. “Each entry point is secure. All the alarms in the house are working properly. Nothing on any of the cameras to indicate an imminent threat.”
Enzo moves onto the couch beside me and slips one arm around my waist. “Good. I didn’t see anything concerning on the perimeter cameras, either. But I still want to check again. Can you…”
“Of course.” Knox lifts his chin. “I’ll do a complete survey of the property. Look for anything—” Glancing at me, he cuts himself off. “I’ll check everything.”
“I don’t think he’s here,” I say. “If he knew, I think he’d have said so.”
Enzo turns to me. “Probably not. But he made contact. I just—” Pausing, he takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “I don’t want to take any chances with your safety.”
Knox nods. “It’s unlikely that Thomas knows you’re here. It’s more likely he got your number when he broke into your aunt’s house.”
Although it makes me feel sick to think about it, he’s probably right. It wouldn’t be hard for Thomas to get into Aunt Linette’s computer and look at her cell phone account. Not with her little password book that always sits on the desk beside it. Then it would just be a matter of checking any of the numbers she called with a Vermont area code until he found mine.
“I’m going to talk to Patrick about this,” Enzo says. “Alec and Leo, too. See if there’s some way to trace where Thomas was calling from.” He pauses. “I’d like to meet with you guys later, if you’re available. Talk about a different approach.”
“Of course,” Knox replies. “You let me know when, and I’ll be there.”
“Okay. I’ll call Alec, Ronan, and I’m going to try to get Gage in on this. He’s been hiding out for way too long. This could help him, too.”
Then Enzo looks at me, and his expression changes. The commanding tone in his voice softens. “I’m sorry, Winter. This isn’t what you need right now. I should have thought?—”
“It’s okay.” I force my lips into a tight smile. “You can talk about it. I’m not going to fall apart because of a phone call.”
“Still…” Enzo takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I know it was a shock. Talking about it now?—”
“We have to talk about it.” As the initial fear and panic fades, anger and frustration move in. How dare Thomas break into Aunt Linette’s house? Call and threaten me? Hasn’t he done enough already?
And why is he still fixated on me? Why doesn’t he run off to Mexico and hide out there? Or Canada? Or literally anywhere but here?
But no. He wants me back—either to capture or kill me—and I have a sinking feeling he has no plans of giving up. I don’t think he knows where I am, or Aunt Linette, but what if he tries to use someone else as leverage?
What if he goes after Enzo’s store again? Would he risk traveling to DC to try to find Violet? He never knew her last name, or where she works, but what if…
Enough.
I can’t keep sitting back passively waiting for Thomas to be captured. I should be taking a more active role in this instead of letting Enzo and his friends do all the work.
“We should set a trap for him.” I wasn’t planning on saying it, but it feels right. “If he knows where I am, he might come after me, and then we can catch him.”
“What?” Enzo’s face jerks in shock. “We’re not doing that. No way.”
“Think about it. He must have friends watching out for me. And if they see me in town, or at the store?—”
“No.” It’s quick. Adamant. “No, Winter. I won’t?—”
My temper flares. “You won’t ?”
“You know,” Knox announces, “I’m going to head outside. Check the perimeter. Call the guys.”
Seconds later, after Knox practically runs from the room, Enzo takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. But… hun. The thought of you putting yourself in danger, letting Thomas get close to you…”
Guilt spears through my chest. Not because of my idea—I think it might actually work—but for putting the pained look on his face. At his core, Enzo’s such a protector; so of course, my idea would bother him.
It doesn’t mean I’m giving up on it, even though the thought of facing Thomas scares the crap out of me. But it might be something I need to build up to instead of springing it on him all at once. Especially since I need Enzo and his friends to make it work.
“I’m sorry, too.” I trace the line of his jaw, feeling his muscles relax slightly beneath my touch. “Not about the idea, but just saying it like that. I know you’re used to being the one who protects everyone.”
He’s silent for a moment, his gaze going dark and intense. Finally, he says slowly, “I’m not worried about protecting everyone, Winter. I’m worried about you . Maybe it’s wrong of me to feel this way, but I’d do anything to keep you safe. And to imagine you out there, using yourself as bait ?—”
“We don’t need to talk about it now.” Shifting on the couch, I turn and fold my legs so I can face him. “Maybe we can just… think about it for a little while.”
After another heavy exhale, his shoulders drop a bit. “Okay.” He captures both my hands in his. “I know I don’t have the right to make decisions like that for you. But—” He swallows hard. “I can’t bear the thought of you being hurt, Winter. Ever.”
“I know. I feel the same way.”
A moment passes as we look at each other, our gazes sharing things we’ve yet to say.
Like how I feel about him. How much I care already. How deeply I trust him.
And I think—hope—he feels the same way.
“Winter.”
“Enzo.”
He smiles. “You first.”
“No, you.”
There’s this tension between us—not an unpleasant one, but like we’re on the cusp of something important. For the first time since I met him, Enzo’s expression is uncertain. Fear flickers in his eyes.
“I don’t want to say the wrong thing,” he admits quietly. “I don’t want to mess things up between us.”
My heart jumps. “I don’t think you could.”
“We haven’t known each other that long. But…”
“It feels like we have.”
The fear in his eyes turns to cautious hope. “It does.”
As he looks at me, so handsome and unexpectedly vulnerable, I realize I’m the one who needs to take the next step. Enzo is so worried about hurting me, taking a step wrong, possibly triggering me—I need to reassure him he couldn’t.
“I know you won’t hurt me,” I blurt out. “And I trust you. Not just to keep me safe, although I do. But I think…” My chest goes tight. “I trust you with my heart, too.”
Enzo blinks. Twin spots of color ruddy his cheeks. “You do?”
“Yes.” Shoving down my nerves, I tell him the rest of it. “I feel something for you. More than just as friends.”
“Winter,” he breathes, his voice going rough. “Are you sure? After everything you’ve been through…”
“I’m sure. It’s different with you.”
But what if he doesn’t feel the same way? Will I have to stay here, humiliated after baring my feelings to him and being let down gently? Heart leaping into my throat, I ask, “Do you feel the same? Or did I make a mistake?”
His eyes turn a smoky blue. “You didn’t make a mistake.” One hand cups my cheek, big and warm and perfect, and I instinctively lean into it. “I do feel the same way. I just don’t want to rush you.”
“You’re not.” I lean forward, bracing my hands on his legs, everything inside me quivering in anticipation.
Enzo’s hand slides around to the back of my head, fingers tunneling through my hair. But he doesn’t urge me closer. He just waits.
In that same rough, needy tone, he asks, “Are you sure? There’s no rush.”
“I know.” And I close the last few inches between us, hesitating a breath away from his lips. “I want this. I want to kiss you.”
“Ah, hun. I want that, too.”
Breathlessly, pulse thundering, I bring my mouth to his.
It’s soft. A tender caress.
Enzo nips at my lower lip before stroking the small sting away.
I trail my tongue along the seam of his lips.
He tugs me closer to him, one hand still cupping the back of my head, the other at the middle of my back. But it’s not demanding. It’s tender and comforting.
This isn’t a passionate kiss. It’s a gentle promise of more to come.
And as our connection continues, I feel my heart opening for him.
Desires I’ve locked away come alive again.
When we finally draw apart, Enzo gazes at me with a depth of emotion in his eyes. He brushes his thumb across my kiss-swollen lips. “That was…”
“It was perfect.”
As his arms come around me, pulling me into his arms, his lips press against the top of my head. His breath feathers across my hair. “Yes. It was.”