Chapter 23
23
I race off, not knowing where the hell I’m headed, I just know I need out of here.
I weave through the crowd, as quickly as I can. I have to lose Enzo. I can’t have these feelings in front of him… I search around for somewhere, anywhere I can hide for a moment and think.
My eyes sting. My heart races with every emotion imaginable. I run past stalls, through the throng, and head toward the exit, my body instinctively wanting to escape, only what I want to break free of follows me everywhere. I wish running would leave behind the mayhem swirling around my body. I don’t want to feel like this when I see Enzo again.
My heart pounds… fear and hope and loyalty all mingle to create a tornado inside me.
Needing time to compose myself, I manage to slip through a crack between the Haunted House and an ice-cream stand to hide in the shadows before I dare take out my phone again.
My heart beats so hard against my rib cage it burns. My hands shake as I reread the text.
UNKNOWN NUMBER
Hello Menace. I’m safe. I made it to Nevada.
Ice instantly spreads through my veins, freezing every muscle… every organ…
Anton.
The world falls away from me, time stands still, and everything is blurry.
Every muscle in my body is coiled and tight. Questions spin in my mind, the world around me spirals. He found me? How did he get this number? He’s in Nevada? He’s safe? Did he make a clean break?
The sounds and blinking lights of the fair that were making me feel like a giddy kid now make me dizzy and sick. They fill my head with even more confusion.
I stare at my phone again.
Anton is okay. I should have believed he could escape, too. He’s never told me about his background but he’s a smart man. Resourceful… thank God… he made it out alive. If he got away, maybe we’re both free, right? Could this actually be over? Or could this text be Father tricking me?
No… Anton never called me Menace unless we were alone. If Anton was with Father, he’d be questioned about my whereabouts, some term of endearment isn’t the kind of information that would come out. All Father would want to know is where I am.
When I left college, I was ninety percent sure I covered my tracks and that Father would have a hard time finding me. I worried that Anton would be tortured into giving information and that as close to me as he was, he might be able to figure out where I was headed. He knew I admired certain tech companies, GhostEye being one of them.
If Father found the contest, it would have been possible for Anton to connect the dots if put under pressure and lead Father to Echo Valley.
But now Anton is safe, too. He’s not with Father. He can’t tell him anything. Father could never find me now. How would Father ever know, or have the first clue that I came here unless he squeezed details from Anton? I didn’t enter the hacking contest under my real name. Hell, I worked under my fake identity on those computers in the library before I won that contest.
The guilt over Anton being harmed washes away, and it’s replaced with a sense of hope. That was the last thing holding me back.
A sense of relief unfurls the knot in my belly. Have I really done it? Did I truly escape? There’s just one small thing.
How did Anton get my number? Is he a hacker, too? It seems impossible he could have hidden such a thing from me all these years, but then, he never wanted to talk about himself. In any case, if he could find my number, he’s capable of even more than I took him for, and that, too, is an ember of hope inside me that my only friend will find a new life .
Maybe a life as good as the one I have here in Echo Valley.
Just then, a familiar strong hand wraps around my wrist, and I take in a sharp breath.
Enzo.
He holds me firmly, and his touch grounds me, brings me back to the safe feeling I’ve had almost since arriving in Echo Valley. His eyebrows are knitted together, and the concern in his gaze anchors me to the one thing I want more than anything.
Freedom.
It’s closer than I think.
I really don’t have to wait any longer to tell him. I trust Enzo. He’s earned it. And if there’s anything between us, I want to have it for real. I want to have it as my whole self, not just a snapshot of the woman he knows.
The worry in his eyes floods me with emotion. This man cares about me. His soulful brown eyes leave no question about that. His affectionate touch is firm around my wrist, the best kind of security.
Maybe he won’t want to be with me when he hears my story. Maybe his point of view will transform in an instant when I tell him. Maybe he’ll no longer see me as a skillful, talented employee but a helpless, vulnerable girl, damaged by her past. I don’t want him to see me that way. I don’t feel like that person. Least of all in his presence.
Enzo makes me feel invincible.
Finding out Anton is safe has been a catalyst. I never have to go back and find him. I just have to make sure, one hundred percent, that Father can’t find me. I can’t risk this chance for a new life any longer.
I want my new birth certificate. I want to get a bank account. I want to get a passport. I want to see where the powerful connection I’m feeling between me and this gorgeous man lands.
It’s time to tell Enzo, but I can’t tell him about the text from Anton. Not yet.
Not before I tell him who I am.
After texting his dad and Santi to head back with Callum, we got into Enzo’s car.
Enzo has an ability to sit in silence that no one else has. Since being in the outside world, I see how uncomfortable and impatient people become when they have to wait to know what you’re thinking.
Enzo didn’t demand anything of me in that car ride home. He didn’t force me to speak. Still, he was quiet in an unsettled way, an aura of worry around him so tangible I had to turn up the aircon.
When he parks in his garage, without a word we get out of the car, and I follow him inside.
He tells me to sit in his living room where he wraps that same beautifully knitted blanket around my shoulders I had over my legs the night he took care of me. I’m not cold, but I leave it there anyway because I know he wants to have something hugged around me while he goes to make tea, and strangely, it does offer a security, like there’s safety woven into the intricate yarn.
Enzo disappears into the kitchen, and panic pounds through my insides.
I pull the blanket tighter, a reminder of how caring Enzo is. I need these reminders now. I repeat to myself that Enzo has been nothing but supportive since he let me through those gates. I tell myself I can trust him, and my mantra is strong and forceful inside me as a prayer.
He comes back from the kitchen with a steaming mug and hands it to me.
“Chamomile.”
A couple of days ago I said I was trying to cut down on caffeine.
He bought tea.
For me.
My hands cling to the warmth of the mug, and I blow white wisps from the top, counting my breaths like a steadying meditation. What I’m about to share will change everything.
I just wish I could have held off telling him all of this until after we kissed. I’ve never touched a man before, and this one? Everything wants not only his mouth on mine but his body between my legs. If I get that chance, I’m not going to be shy about it.
I sip, but it does nothing to ease the tightness in my throat. “I think it’s time to tell you,” I swallow thickly, “… my story.”
Enzo is a largely expressionless man. He has one look, and it’s something between being pensive and scowling. But his eyebrow lifts, almost imperceptibly. The elephant in the room is about to incite a stampede.
“Even though I really want it to be, my name isn’t Ava.”
I steal a sharp glance, scared of what I might discover, but in Enzo’s deep-brown eyes is compassion. And not the least bit of shock.
“You’re not surprised?” I ask, feeling every bit of the jolt I expected Enzo to have.
“You’ve given me a hell of a lot of time to consider the options,” he says calmly. “An alias was one of them. Are you going to tell me your real name?”
I don’t want to. I don’t ever want to be that woman again. Nothing about her life nor the little girl before her was worth taking into the next. But I need to tell him.
There’s a grip of fear around my neck. “It was Lucy Murphy.”
His body stills. Mine does, too.
I don’t know if I feel better or worse that he knew I was lying to him. I crumble, and at the same time, feel more cared for than ever. He has done all these loving things for a liar. Not even knowing who I really was he took me into his home, gave me a job, money, food, kindness, care…
He puts his hand on my knee. “You can tell me everything.”
And I want to now. Telling him will put me on the path to erasing Lucy forever. It’s the last step to knowing I won’t be caught and that I’m not leading danger to this wonderful town and this beautiful man. There were enough guns in Father’s compound to take down a town of this size. And I sure as hell know plenty of his guys were more than happy to use them.
“When I was eleven, my mom took me to a place and said I would stay with Father.”
“You mean your father?”
“She just said Father but… yes, I guess so.” It never occurred to me before that he wouldn’t be, and it was so long ago, I can’t even be certain she didn’t say he was mine. Still, in all the years of being there, Anton never said your father either.
“My mom never came back. That much I told you about me is totally true. She just left.” The pain I’m usually so good at burying crawls up through the weeds. I’ll never understand how she could have done that to me. Why she wouldn’t want me.
“In the years in between, I was kept in a compound and I wasn’t allowed to leave.” I pause because it’s so heavy and unreal to say. “Ever.”
It’s clear he never considered that as one of my secrets. “Ever?”
“Not until they let me go to college. And there, well, I saw your contest, won, and…”
“Did they hurt you?” His features quickly carve from concerned to vengeful. “Who was he? Who is your father?”
“I don’t know.”
Rage shifts over his gaze. “Who did this to you?”
A surge of protectiveness fills the space between us.
I never thought this could affect him as much… his body is rigid with rage. But the strange reality of my life was that, though I knew Father was an evil man who killed people, I didn’t really know who he was.
“I honestly don’t know who he is. I never even saw his face. Over the years, I assumed, by the amount of guns around…” I dip my chin and wring my hands. The words don’t come easy. “He had people killed by his guards. Which… I had to watch. He was a bad man, and all I ever thought was he had to be a cartel or mob leader of some sort. The place I lived was a walled compound with armed guards everywhere. Maybe there was a drug factory or arms trade. There was something important behind those walls. Including me.”
“You really don’t know his name?” Enzo’s mind is already halfway down the road to raining down hellfire.
I take too long to answer. He wraps his strong hands around my arms, bracing me in front of him. “You must have some idea who kept you? ”
I know now the deep place from which Enzo fights for justice and the way his face twists between pain and revenge offers me more peace than he’ll ever know. He’s on my side. I feel it in my bones.
“I truly don’t know who Father is, but I wasn’t ever physically harmed. I mean, it was traumatic and stressful. I saw things I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from.” The men that left this world at their executions in that basement will haunt my soul forever.
“I worried for my safety because I knew people were harmed at his command, but in some ways I had the weirdly privileged life. I was well educated and given high-quality clothes and living quarters. I lived in poverty with my mom before that, so by comparison, captivity was a mansion with all the food in the world and the heat was on all the time. But… Father would make sure I never tried to leave by showing me what would happen if I did. I…”
Shame saturates my veins and weighs me down. My stomach churns, and the cotton candy I had at the fair threatens to reappear. “I did a lot of things while I was in the compound. My teachers called them tasks but…” I can’t face him when I admit the worst. “I’m sometimes afraid I committed crimes or did things online I didn’t realize were…” Tears prick my eyes. “illegal.”
When I dare meet his gaze, I don’t find the disgust I expect to see. Instead, Enzo looks pained, features soft with compassion.
I add, “I did a background check on Lucy Murphy, and it came up clean.”
He reaches out and takes my hands. “That’s the least of my concerns right now.”
His jaw clenches in vengeance, and I feel the same way. But I worry about shifting his feelings in part two of my tale .
“I had one really good thing there, and that was my uncle.”
“The one you’ve spoken about?”
I nod. “He was my guardian, tasked with taking care of me. The only reason I’m not completely, thoroughly messed up is because of his kindness.” My words come out faster, almost nervous; I’m anticipating at any moment Enzo will cut me off for saying what sounds so ridiculous. “He was very, very good to me. We were friends. I know he loved me. And I loved him. He was the only family I really feel like I’ve known…”
Enzo cuts me off. “You have Stockholm syndrome.”
“You’re wrong,” I say more sharply and violently than I intend. I knew this would happen. “I know in my gut that Anton was a good man. I don’t know why he was there but…”
Enzo takes off his glasses and stares at me carefully, as if one day I’ll understand that what he said is true. “Who texted you tonight before you ran off?”
I freeze completely. Now that I know how he feels about Anton, I could never say it was him. Maybe Enzo will trace the call. He’ll never believe Anton is as much on the run as I am. I don’t have enough time to think this through so… I lie, and the words are like acid in my stomach. “It was just Pen. I didn’t run off because of the text. I just got nervous. I’m scared of heights.”
His eyebrow twitches. He doesn’t believe it.
Still, there’s no way in hell I’m discussing Anton with him now. It doesn’t matter to Enzo what kind of man Anton is, but it does to me.
My entire outlook in life hinges on Anton being a good man. On us having been in it together. He was my family not my captor. He made the best for my life that he could with what he had, like a parent would. Thinking of him as a bad person turns me inside out and would ruin all hope that good exists in this world. Anton was my proof of good.
Anyway, convincing Enzo Anton is good doesn’t matter anymore because I don’t have to be part of rescuing him. I don’t have to use my freedom to ensure his. He’s in Nevada. He said he’s safe. I can concentrate on me now and wiping Lucy Murphy from existence forever.
I can focus on Enzo.
I thought the passion in his gaze would fade when he heard my story. Quite the opposite, there’s a new fire there. Enzo has always been a man hell-bent on protecting others. I knew it before I even knew about Diego, and now I understand his reason, I believe in him even more.
That protection is admirable. Being on the receiving end of it, my hands in his firm grip, his steely gaze on me? There’s no place I’d rather be.
He shuffles closer on the couch and wraps his strong arm around me. He stares into my eyes with a depth I’ve never known and says what I’ve been praying to hear.
He lifts his palm to my jaw. “You’re never going back there.”
The world stands still. I’m falling into him. Falling into us.
I want to go back to earlier, when I was full of butterflies and it felt like my new life was just beginning. I want to go back to him believing I’m the woman I was only an hour ago when he bought us tickets for the Ferris wheel and danced his fingertips on mine.
“I just want to be Ava Scott now and leave Lucy in the past.”
He understands immediately. I’m sure Enzo has dealt with witness protection and new identities in his line of business. I don’t have to say another word.
He still cups my jaw, listening not only to my words but my every breath and every movement. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
My eyes flutter downward. “We were supposed to kiss tonight.”
His thumb traces my jawline so tenderly I could purr.
“We were?” He might have asked a question, but there’s no doubt in his words or in the subtle shift of his mouth toward mine.
“I was going to do it at the top of the Ferris wheel.” My confession is just a murmur.
“You’ve been through a lot tonight,” he says, carefully, with restraint and eyes full of unknown emotions.
He’s being careful with me now that he knows. But I swear his lips creep toward mine.
His touch glides up to my hairline, and his fingers light up every millimeter of my skin until he reaches the nape of my neck. Shivers skate down, straight to my core. I’m emotional on every level and I swear only his lips on mine will stop my racing heart from escaping my chest.
I’m not sure if he means it the way I take it, but his next words set me on fire.
“I’m going to take such good care of you.” He stares at my lips.
“Enzo…”
His nostrils flare.
“Please kiss me.”
His gaze is so intense I could burst into flames.
It took everything to be this bold. His lips draw closer still, warm breath cascades down my cheek. His gaze is deep and soulful, but there’s something like fear there, too .
“I want this,” I urge him on. “I want it so much.”
Anticipation and desire ache in my core, and my heart throbs relentlessly.
He’s so close his lips brush mine with a touch so light. Still, the strike of a match is just a whisper, but with the right fuel can set kingdoms on fire. I want him so badly I’m faint with how overwhelming my need is.
His throat bobs up and down that thick, sexy neck, as if his whole body is in this as deep as mine… And then, he kisses me.
His lips are hot and soft. He presses his mouth against mine with a deep passion I never expected. I’ve imagined a kiss a million times over, sometimes spending an entire night just wondering what a man’s lips would feel like, and never would I have been able to conjure up the ecstasy rushing through my veins. He’s tender. He’s slow. He’s tasting not just the sinful feeling of my lips but it’s like he’s devouring my soul.
He swallows the quiet moan that leaves my lips. He threads his fingers through my hair and, holding my head firmly in his grip, the whole world shifts because it feels like I’m finally home. He is my home.
He explores my mouth, his thumb brushes passionately along the corner of my mouth, and I’m lost in this feeling, in him, and I quicken my pace. Somehow, I get closer, climbing on his lap, and he eases back until I’m lying on him, my fingers now lost in his lush black locks, feeling this beautiful man on my fingertips, breasts pushed against his hard chest. My legs ease open to allow his hips between them, and the urge to rub against him for friction overwhelms me.
I want more than a kiss. I want to be touched down there. I want to be taken. I want to be loved …
Not being able to help the need, I grind myself against his thigh.
He runs his hands down my shoulder blades.
“Ava, we can’t,” he says into my mouth.
“We can…” I reach under his shirt to slip it overhead.
He helps me by tearing it up and off, and my palms slide across his bare chest, turning up the heat and urgency inside me.
I sit up and whip my own shirt off, craving the heat of his skin on mine I lie back down on him, our stomachs mold together, I devour his corded neck, and breathe in his manly cologne.
Years of pent-up frustration collide with a distinct feeling that this is right. Now is right. I’m wild with need and kiss his lips more furiously as I reach for the button on his jeans.
“Scottie…”
No. I don’t want him to stop this. He knows my situation. He understands now my life was devoid of all of this, that there’s no way I’ve ever been with a man.
My words tumble into his mouth. “Let me touch you, Enzo.”
At that, he grabs my wrist low on his belly. “This isn’t about me.”
Our eyes meet, his gaze full of emotion and desire.
I reverse the grip and take his hand, running it over my stomach and just inside the hem of my shorts.
“Touch me then…”
I unbutton my shorts with my free hand then ease his inside where he’s sure to feel how much I want him. For a moment, he’s so still I think he might pull back. But then… his fingers connect with the soaked cotton of my panties, an d he massages my hard nub, dragging a soft moan from my lips.
I have to close my eyes and work hard not to hump his fingers, letting their slow back-and-forth motion tease me instead. He must feel how much I want him. I spread my legs wider, hoping to make it easier for him to touch me right where I need it most.
I’d be a mess if he was actually inside me.
Gliding his finger gently along my seam is already enough to see stars. I might never have been with a man but I’ve played with myself enough times to know what I like, to know what feels good… but Enzo? Nothing I have ever done to myself compares with his fingers between my legs.
I want to strip bare. I want him to loop a finger around the fabric, tug it aside, and put his fingers inside me. One inside, a thumb on my clit. Just thinking about more has me riding him, rocking my hips back and forth for more friction.
“Harder,” I demand, bearing down onto his fingers.
He increases his speed.
“Ah…”
My hands wander down his six-pack, but his belt is too tight to get my fingers past that perfect V leading right down to a bulge that is surely going to drive me wild when I see it. I try to undo his buckle, but it’s damn hard with him still dry fucking my throbbing core…
I don’t even know what I’m doing any more. My mind reels with need.
I try to push down my shorts to give him better access, grabbing the sides of my panties at the same time, with all intention of opening myself to him, when all of a sudden, all panting, all groaning, and both our heaving chests stop .
The roar of the motor driving us toward having sex comes to a screeching halt.
His head falls to the armrest, and he closes his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Can he hear the desperation in my voice?
He slides his hand out from down my shorts and places it on my hip instead.
“Did I do something wrong?”
His jaw tics. “Never.”
Then why doesn’t he want to…?
“Come here.”
He urges me into his embrace, and I settle into the crook of his arm. He nestles me in tightly, and I lay my hand on his balmy chest where his heart pounds against my palm.
He holds me, caressing the length of my arm affectionately, and worry overcomes me. Was I too presumptuous and forward? I swear that kiss… and everything that was happening went both ways…
“I…” His voice is husky. “It shouldn’t happen like this.”
Lust hasn’t drained from me, and speaking into his delicious-smelling neck while our skin is pressed together doesn’t do much to change that.
“Just because I’ve never done this before doesn’t mean I’m emotionally attached to my…” I knew this detail might change the way he sees me. “I’m not a twenty-five-year-old virgin by choice.”
Not that I can now imagine me losing it to anyone but Enzo.
A harsh, frustrated sigh escapes.
Here I thought the feelings were mutual. I know I’m not experienced in love or lust but I really felt it. His dark hair is mussed from my fingers raking through it, and it almost hurts how beautiful I find him and that I sense he’s pushing me away.
My words are a strangled whimper. “You don’t want me?”
There’s an appreciation in his gaze I never knew I needed. “You’re everything that I want.”
His words send a shiver through me. My fingers roam back down through the dip between his pecs.
I make circles on his stomach. “I definitely want this. I know I’m inexperienced but I know what I want.”
For the first time, maybe ever, the kind of laugh that leaves him is full of humor. “I’m not worried about you.” His growl tells me his fingers still haven’t dried. “I felt how much you want this.”
I’d feel embarrassed, except what he’s saying offers me more than I even wanted from his hand down my pants. It’s something I feel, too, but was too scared to let myself want. Sex, even losing my virginity, would be easy to move past at this point. Enzo breaking my heart would be another.
He tips my chin up so he can gaze into my eyes.
“You deserve to know how a gentleman treats a lady before he takes her to the bedroom.”