Chapter Forty-Four Enzo
Chapter Forty-Four
Enzo
“Fucking Slava.” I drove my fist straight into the wall.
The solid concrete cracked, as did my knuckles, yet I couldn’t feel the pain. The impossible weight of the world rolled off my chest, and I could finally—finally—breathe again.
“And Rothwell says he has it covered?” Achilles raised a skeptic eyebrow.
My brothers and I were standing in Luca’s living room after he’d called us for an urgent meeting. I’d come here not knowing if this was the last time I was going to see my family as a free man.
Luca nodded. “He gave me his word. All we need to do is sit pretty, avoid the port, and, of course, kill Slava.”
“I’ll slaughter him with my bare hands,” I promised.
“Figured as much.” Luca rolled his tongue along his front teeth. “Just make sure you do it before he makes the trip to headquarters in the morning to bitch and moan about your ex.”
“Count on it.”
“And don’t be anywhere near that ship when it arrives, Enzo. I promised Rothwell we’ll steer clear of that operation.”
In the end, Tom had sacrificed everything.
His morals, his ambition, his entire fucking being.
For me.
Beneath it all, my skin crawled. He was putting so much on the line to save my ass.
Not just his career—which had been the center of his life before I walked into it—but also his freedom.
If this went sideways, which it very well could, he’d be thrown into prison for a long time.
He’d spend the rest of his days a dead man walking.
I wasn’t going to let it happen.
I was going to be on Slava’s ass the second the FBI left the port with the Bratva soldiers.
“This is going to fuck the Russians over big time.” Achilles rubbed his hands, pleased. “Alex will be in the red for a long-ass time.”
“Since when do you hate Alex so much?” Luca frowned.
“Since…always,” Achilles mumbled ambiguously, gaze coasting sideways. “It’s not like I need an excuse.”
“We need to start planning how we catch Slava,” Luca said. “And resume operations on all of our drug routes. Collect all of our protection money, pronto.”
“You sure you trust Rothwell this much?” Achilles rubbed his mouth. “To restart business as usual?”
Luca threw me a glance. I jerked my chin in a nod. He looked back at Achilles. “Do it.”
“You’re the boss.” Achilles whistled, pulling his phone from his pocket. “For now,” he added just for shits and giggles. I didn’t miss the tense look that passed between them.
I was still shell-shocked from the realization that Tom was about to throw away a three-year-long case that would earn him all the accolades and glory—for me. Especially since my ass was no longer his dick’s favorite parking spot.
“All right.” Luca snapped his fingers. “We got a lot to do. Let’s start moving.”
I turned to leave, as I had about thirty establishments to collect money from, thanks to our backlog.
I also wasn’t eager to stick around for fear that the subject of my sexuality would resurface.
I knew the Camorra was losing soldiers left and right because of my coming out, and that our underground channels were still flooded with shit talk about me.
All the homophobes were running for their lives, in case queerness was contagious.
I’d never understood straight men who were concerned about gay men lusting after them.
Yeah, Chad, I find your questionable grooming methods, ill-fitting clothes, and ass acne irresistible. I’ll try my best to keep my hands to myself, but it’ll be a challenge.
“Enzo.” It was Luca. And he sounded…not completely pissed off, which I guess was a good sign.
I swiveled, cocking a brow.
“I get that he pissed you off, but you need to get your head outta your ass and forgive him. He’s about to lose everything for you.”
“Yeah, man, if you don’t marry him, I will.” Achilles stabbed a finger at his chest.
“Tierney might have a thing or two to say about it.” I gave him a sharp look. Could people stop lusting after my man?
“Are you kidding me? Tierney would be thrilled. She is all about being an ally and shit.”
“She is.” I laughed. “You don’t deserve her.”
He shrugged. “Tough fucking luck I never let it stop me.”
My thoughts twisted into a ball of anxiety. I was worried sick about Tom’s operation, about his future, but I also couldn’t forgive him for betraying my trust.
First, he’d started our relationship with a lie.
That was egregious, but I could see myself forgiving him for it.
But he could’ve come clean about it sooner.
And the plea deal he’d offered showed me he knew so little about me and the way I treated my family.
But right now, I was more concerned with saving his ass than figuring out our situationship.
“One step at a time.” I licked my lips, wanting to say something more, but not sure what. I shifted my weight between my feet. “Let’s cross the Slava bridge first.”
My brothers watched me.
“Anything else?” Achilles slanted his head.
“I–I’m sorry,” I choked out. “For all the mess I created by coming out. And…for losing soldiers, and, you know…” I gripped the nape of my neck, squeezing hard. “For everything, basically.”
Luca’s eyes softened, in a rare flash of humanity. “You idiot, we didn’t care about your sexuality. We cared about what it meant to call off the wedding with the Rasputins.”
“Yeah.” Achilles’s face warped in distaste. “And fuck those soldiers. No one important quit. Only the low-grade dolts we’d eventually have gotten rid of anyway. If anything, you did us a favor.”
“So you’re not…ashamed of me?” I blinked, overwhelmed with emotions. I hadn’t realized how desperately I wanted their acceptance until this moment. I hadn’t even dared to wish for it, I was so scared.
“I mean, I can’t speak for Achilles, but I’m ashamed that you’re dating someone who plays chess at a high school level.” Luca glowered at me accusingly.
I laughed, shaking my head. “He was probably unfocused. Tom’s good at everything.”
“Feel free not to elaborate,” Achilles quipped. “No, but seriously, it is fucked-up that you’d think our issue is—was—or ever will be—with who you love, baby brother.”
“Mafiosi aren’t usually open-minded.”
“You don’t need to be open-minded to accept people for who they are.
You just don’t need to be a lifeless piece of shit,” Achilles said incredulously.
“I thought I was doing you a favor, you know, that time I fucked Adriana. That if you noticed that you weren’t broken up about it, you’d face your true identity. Wasn’t my best idea.”
“Yeah, no shit.” I snorted, staring at the floor. “But…thanks, I guess.”
Then he did something shocking. He walked over, hooked one arm around my shoulders, and yanked me in a half hug, messing my hair affectionately. “You’re an idiot, but you’re our idiot.”
“Yeah,” Luca said. “We don’t give two shits about what anyone has to say.”
“You’re just saying that because my boyfriend is saving your ass.” I disconnected from Achilles’s embrace, feeling the color high on my cheeks.
Tom wasn’t really my boyfriend anymore, but it still felt good to say it.
“It did help,” Luca conceded.
I threw him a chiding look.
He shook his head, smiling tiredly. “Enzo. If we were having this conversation in Rikers’s backyard, we’d still tell you the same fucking thing. It doesn’t matter how things turned out. Our loyalty and love for you will never be contingent on anything else. You should know that by now.”
I did know that.
I knew that because I felt exactly the same. I loved my family to death, and was willing to do anything for them. No questions asked.
“Group hug?” I lit up.
They both grumbled in annoyance but hugged me anyway.
“All right. Go to fucking work.” He waved us off.
We did.
In between collecting protection money from the millionth person, I squeezed in a thirty-minute workout at the gym.
My schedule was a goddamn mess, especially since I’d started seeing Tierney’s therapist, Dr. Andrews.
I had to squeeze in half-hour HIIT sessions then do my stretches and abs at home to keep my gains.
Inhumane, if you ask me, but I’d been told civilization had survived worse.
After an intense but short workout, I slipped into the locker room, took a quick shower, and examined myself in the mirror in nothing but a small towel.
I looked good, despite my flare-up. My hair was wet, my muscles freshly pumped, my body veiny and smooth from the workout.
I grabbed my phone on impulse and took a picture of myself showing off my six-pack with a sultry wink.
I posted it to my grid with a short but telling caption.
I miss him.
#comingout #loudandproud
#whyarelockerroomlightsosuperior
The dry spell had officially ended.
Switching to my settings next, I turned the commenting option back on.
Then I just stood there like a creep and kept hitting the little heart icon on the top of the screen to see updates as people started liking and commenting after my mysterious hiatus.
The post was exploding. A lot of people were congratulating me on coming out.
Some jokingly (or not) mourned the loss of such fine specimen to the other team.
It felt really, really good. Like, ninety-five percent of the comments were supportive. And that gave me hope in humanity.
I didn’t know why I kept standing there and staring. I normally posted shit and forgot about it until the next day. Still, something locked me to this moment.
Maybe I was proud of myself for owning it fully, in front of the entire world.
And maybe there was something else, too.
Another notification popped on my screen. A new comment on my photo. I clicked on it. My heart stopped.
AgentAsshole: Congratulations, kid. I bet he misses you, too.
Could it be…?
Trembling, I went into his profile. It was private. He had zero followers. And he only followed one person, which I guessed was me. I could DM him…or I could claim him publicly, instead of keeping him a secret, like Matt had.
I tapped on his comment and answered back.
ItalianSausage: Then he should do something about it.