Chapter Thirty-Eight Enzo #3
“I hate you!” I pounced on him, pounding on his chest with my fists. From the corner of my eye, I saw people behind the glass wall standing and approaching the room. Tom raised a hand to stop them, still staring at me. I was past fucking caring, though.
I wanted to get arrested.
I wasn’t taking the damn plea deal.
“I hate you!” I cried again, saliva splattering from my mouth, tears springing from my eyes. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!”
“I love you,” he replied tersely, accepting my beatings, my slurs, my wrath. He was utterly still, a wall against the storm that I became. “To the death, Enzo. So fucking much it hurts.”
“I hate you so much,” I croaked brokenly, falling to my knees before him, crying hard.
He didn’t lower himself to me, didn’t offer any condolences. Not in front of his colleagues. Not in front of the world. My only way of ever having him in public was if I were bent and shaped exactly to the measurements he allowed me to be in—just like Matt.
“It’s over,” I coughed out, still staring at the floor.
“You don’t mean that.” His voice cracked, spilling all the pain he didn’t let show.
I looked up at him, forcing myself to stand.
“I do. Please, let me go, Tom. Please. I beg you. Already, I will never get over you. Let me keep a piece of my heart to myself. Just the one. I promise not to give it away recklessly to the first man who comes along with pretty eyes and a sad smile.”
“Enzo, I’m not letting you walk out of here and ruin your life.” His jaw tightened. “That’s not happening. You don’t have to be with me if you don’t want to—it’ll crush me, but I’ll respect that. But this life of crime? You’re never going back to it.”
He was really going to force me to do this.
With a bitter snarl, I wrenched out the get-out-of-jail-free card I always kept in my pocket and slammed it in Tom’s chest. “Here. My blank check. Cashed. Leave me alone. Don’t call.
Don’t text. Don’t stalk. Don’t wait outside my apartment.
Next time you do—I’m telling the FBI about everything you did and you’re going down with me. This is where we part ways.”
I stormed out of his office. Zeke and Sully were standing a few feet away, holding paper cups of coffee, pretending to be in conversation, but really, spying on our asses. Maybe they were observant, smart people. But they were shit-ass actors.
I stopped in front of Sully, thrusting my wrists in his face. “Arrest me.”
He cocked his head, staring at me like I’d grown another head. “Huh?”
“I’m not taking the plea deal. Thanks for the offer, though,” I said as an afterthought, because I couldn’t, for the goddamn life of me, not be Nice Enzo. “Arrest me, cuff me, throw me in Rikers. I want to speak to my lawyer.”
Zeke furrowed his brow, putting his paper cup down. “Son, that plea deal is a good one. You won’t have to give away any informat—”
“Lawyer,” I repeated dully.
Zeke glanced behind my shoulder, into Tom’s office.
I followed his line of vision, forever a glutton for punishment, and saw Tom standing in the same position I’d left him, leaning against the desk, head hung low between his shoulders.
I couldn’t see his face; it was angled toward the wrinkled get-out-of-jail-free card on the floor.
He stared at that thing like it had personally wronged him.
His colleagues probably had no fucking clue what was going on.
A part of me wanted to let them in on every sordid detail to get Tom fired.
A big part of me. To betray him like he’d betrayed me.
To twist that knife deep and slow, hitting all the important organs.
But no matter how much I wanted to screw him over, I couldn’t.
Not because I’d suddenly found my godforsaken morals, God forbid.
But because even though he was a traitor, I still loved him.
I still fucking loved him.
And that was what hurt the most. That this demonic, all-consuming love was wasted on a man who’d claimed all my monumental firsts, who’d taught me how to love myself, who’d kissed every scar and blemish on my body the way even my mother hadn’t, who’d genuinely tried to save me, thinking he was doing the right thing… and I could never be with him.
And for the rest of my life, I was going to be reminded every day that the person I loved the most had torn my family apart.
The flare-up felt like poison ivy, crawling up my arms, my back, my legs, everywhere.
I whipped my head around, refocusing on Zeke and Sully, waiting for them to call the cops.
Sully looked like a confused moron, because that was exactly what he was.
Zeke worked his jaw back and forth, making the connections in his head. “Mr. Ferrante, why don’t you step with me into my offi—”
“Lawyer,” I said again.
It hurt.
It fucking hurt.
Turning my back on Tom, and his offer, and his heart. Knowing that the genesis of us, the very thing that had snowballed into this moment, was that he’d sought me out to betray me, to ruin and destroy me.
“Enzo—”
“LAWYER.” I raised my voice, screaming now. “I have rights, goddammit, and I want to get arrested, so I can be processed and speak to my attorney.”
The commotion in the office was immediate. Zeke nodded once at Sully, who led me over to the end of the hallway, already making calls on his phone.
“Rothwell!” I heard Maddox roar behind my back, no doubt set on getting to the bottom of this mess. Tears welled in my eyes. I blinked them into evaporation. My throat was tight.
This time I didn’t look back.