Chapter 66 Ethan
SIXTY-SIX
ETHAN
Ieyed Elijah as he sat across from me in the hotel room while Enzo and Cole were out doing garbage for Enzo’s wedding. Of course, I wasn’t going to that shit. There was no way in hell I’d go, and if I did, it wouldn’t be to smile and celebrate.
It would be because I was killing those sick motherfuckers.
“You play chess?” Elijah asked.
“Sometimes. It’s been a long time,” I said.
“There’s a chessboard over there.” He gestured behind me. “We could play. Take your mind off shit.”
I shrugged. He got up, retrieved the board, and placed it on the coffee table. I shifted forward on the couch and placed my pieces where they belonged while he did the same.
We played in silence for the longest time before he decided to talk. I didn’t know much about these saints, but since Enzo seemed to trust them, I gave them the benefit of the doubt. They were our age. Looking for their girl. Convinced Matteo had her.
We had no information for them. It didn’t stop them from working their asses off.
“I grew up on the streets,” he said. “All of us did.”
I moved a piece forward.
“When we were fourteen, we stole a chessboard from a store. We used to play one another to pass the time in our old warehouse.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I remained silent.
“When I was sixteen, I killed a man.” He claimed my pawn. “He touched Indie when we were in the underground for Dmitri so he could fight. It was how we were able to eat. Dmitri would fight for cash. Or we’d steal it.” Another move. Another piece claimed.
I studied him. He was a good-looking guy. Tall. Muscular. Dark hair. Gray eyes.
“The man had two grand in his jacket. We ate like kings for almost a year.” He gestured for me to take my turn. “We were also able to buy a couple of blankets and some clothes from a secondhand shop. First time any of us had actually paid for shit like that without stealing it.”
“But it was stolen money,” I pointed out.
He shrugged. “Fuck that guy.”
We played for a bit more, him beating me before he sat back in his seat. I wasn’t a chess whiz, but he definitely seemed to be.
“Tell me about Indie,” I said. I’d not heard much about her except that she’d gone missing.
A tiny smile graced his lips. “Indigo,” he murmured. “Hair black as pitch. Eyes blue as the morning sky. Soft. Sweet. So fucking smart and beautiful.” He pulled out a photo from his wallet and handed it to me.
I took it and stared down at a picture of him and the rest of the saints, a tiny wisp of a girl in the center.
She was breathtaking.
“She’s been missing for four years,” he said.
“She went home to her piece of shit foster parent. He owed Matteo De Santis a lot of money. She never told us he touched her.” His voice shook.
“Not until it was too late. She told Christian. They were always tight. He doesn’t lose his cool as fast as the rest of us, so I understand why she confided in him first.” He breathed out.
“She refused to stay with us at the warehouse. Was terrified of the man. Sometimes, I’d sit on her fire escape at night to make sure she was safe.
All night with a ratty blanket wrapped around me.
” He let out a soft, sad laugh and grew quiet.
My heart went out to him and the saints. I’d not yet sat and spoken to any of them at length. They seemed to be all business and getting their shit done. Enzo and Cole liked them. I could see why. They embodied everything the horsemen stood for.
“One night, I was late getting there. When I finally did, she didn’t come to her window.
I got scared. I went inside and found her foster father unconscious and beaten to fuck on the floor.
Indie was gone. I-I don’t know where she went or what happened to her.
Her foster dad wouldn’t tell us. He disappeared long ago.
Whatever happened to him put the fear of god in him, though.
Haven’t seen that pissant in years. And our Indie…
we’ve been looking for her since. We thought De Santis had her, but there was nothing leading her back to him.
We even attempted to enter the palace. Saved, and Dmitri was able to get in for an hour.
He didn’t see her dancing or fucking in that place.
We have nothing. We need to talk to Matteo De Santis, but he doesn’t exactly take special guests. ”
I thought of Anson and swallowed. “I-I know a guy.”
“You do?” Elijah crinkled his brows. “Who?”
“Um, give me a minute. Let me see if he’ll answer.” I blew out a breath, pulled my phone out, and stared down at Anson’s name. I had no idea if he’d answer my call, given the circumstances.
Fuck it. Maybe by some miracle, my sweetheart would answer, and I could tell her I loved her. That I was a fuck-up. That I was going to get better and come back for her. To please fucking wait for me.
The phone rang six times, each ring making my heart sink, until Anson’s deep voice came on the line after the seventh ring.
“E,” he greeted me softly. “What do you need? Are you OK?”
“I, um, hi. I, uh, I was wondering if maybe you knew a girl named Indigo? She’d go by the name Indie.” I held my breath at his silence.
“No. Sorry, man. Why would I know her?”
“It’s suspected Matteo has her in the palace. We’re looking for her for a friend.”
“Who is the friend?”
I glanced at Elijah to see how anxious he was as he bounced his legs.
“Is this for Enzo’s new girl? Because I’m not doing fuck-all to help with anything to do with that shit—”
“No,” I said quickly. “No. Fuck her.”
Anson let out a soft laugh. “Fuck her. Are you? Fucking her with Enzo and Cole?”
My bottom lip trembled. “I-I did before. I don’t now.” No fucking sense lying about it. “I hate her.”
“Right.” He let out a sour laugh. “Well, I don’t know this girl. Never heard of her.”
“Can I send you a picture? And if you see her—”
“E, man, I think you’re a great guy. I do. You’ve been fucked by life. I get it, but I’m trying to keep my shit together here. I-I have a lot going on—”
I got up and left the room, not wanting Elijah to hear me.
“How is Rosalie?” I whispered, my voice shaking.
He was quiet for a moment. “She’s OK. I don’t see her much. She stays locked in my bedroom. When I’m home, I sleep on the couch. You can tell Cole I’m not fucking her either since I know that’s the next question.”
“It wasn’t,” I mumbled.
“Well, for your peace of mind, I’m not. And I won’t. I’m engaged.”
“Can you-Can you tell her I-I’m sorry? I didn’t get to. I-I didn’t even know this was happening…”
He was quiet again. “Get yourself feeling better, man. Get your shit together. Work on moving past so many drugs. Talk to a therapist. Find the sunshine in the clouds, OK? Then maybe reach out to her again, but only if you mean it and you’re ready for her. She can’t be pulled back and forth.”
“OK.” I swallowed hard. “I will. For her. I will.”
“Good. Send me a picture of this girl. If I see her, I’ll let you know, OK?”
“Thank you. Really.”
“Of course.” He sighed.
“Anson?”
“Yeah?”
“For what it’s worth, I-I think you’d be good for her. Now. I think you’re the one.” My eyes burned with unshed tears.
“I’m not the one, E. It’ll always be you guys. I gotta go. Bianca wants ice cream. I promised I’d get her some. Stay safe and make smart choices. Rosalie doesn’t need to hear you’re hurt or worse.”
My bottom lip shook. “OK. Take care of her for me.”
“Always, E.”
The line disconnected. The moment I let the phone fall away from my ear, I let the tears come.
Anson was right. I needed to get my shit together. If I wanted her back, it’s what I needed to do.
Find the sunshine.
I’d try until it killed me.
For Rosalie.