205

Enzo

Sera spent the day curled up on the couch with her legs tucked under her, watching television while I did what I could for Luca via my phone and my laptop. She'd showered after the doctor's visit as I'd hovered outside the door to make sure she didn't try to scrub off her skin again, and seemed happy to be in her own clothes, but otherwise she was rather quiet, and I let her be. After rifling through her suitcase that morning and seeing what she was wearing now-black, baggy cotton pants and a Ramones T-shirt-I found that Sera's style was a little bit punk and a little bit classic vintage. Old concert T-shirts, loose patterned pants and skirts, baggy jeans with strategically placed tears, belts, boots, platform sneakers, plaid dresses. Quite a difference from the seductive costume she wore at the club. And yet, much like her pink hair, I liked this look on her.

Finished with my work for now, I got up from the desk, glancing over at her as I joined her on the couch. She kept her eyes on the show she was watching, not looking at me even when I touched her foot. "How are you doing?"

She gave me a quick glance. "I'm good. Thanks."

"Are you hungry? Would you like me to order dinner?" She didn't answer me. "Sera?"

After a moment, she hit the mute button on the television and set the remote on the coffee table. "Enzo, where is my money?"

I didn't pretend not to know what she was talking about. I'd found a large wad of cash folded up inside of a canvas tote bag that was rolled up on top of her clothes. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough for her to support herself somewhere else for a month, maybe two, along with the pay she'd tried to collect from the club when she was taken. It was money she'd wanted to use to leave me. To run away. "I put it somewhere safe for you."

"I'd like it back."

"It's safe. You don't need it when you're with me."

"I still want it back."

"I told you it's safe."

Changing position, she turned to face me. Took a deep breath.

No.

I knew what was coming before she even started to speak. "Enzo, I appreciate everything you've done for me. I really have."

No.

"But I'd like to ask you to release me from our agreement."

"No."

She must've expected my answer, for not one iota of surprise flickered across her face. "Enzo, please. I don't think this was a good idea."

"Sera, if this is about what happened to you, I'm not going to push you into anything physical. Not until you're ready." I paused. "I'm trying very hard to be patient."

"That's not it," she said. "I mean, that's not all of it."

"Then what?"

"It's just…" She looked away, gathering her thoughts before her beautiful eyes came back to me. I willed myself to be still. "This was a mistake."

"No, it isn't."

"Enzo, please. I just want out."

No.

"I want to leave. This was a bad idea, and I was stupid to take you up on it. And I apologize. I don't want your money. I don't want anything. I just want to leave. I don't feel safe here."

"You don't feel safe with me?"

"No."

An aching chasm opened in my chest as color rose in her face, and I knew exactly what she was talking about. "I didn't know you were a virgin, Sera. You can't blame me for that."

But she was shaking her head. "No. No, that's not it."

"Then what the hell is it?" I was growing impatient with this conversation.

She threw her hands up in the air. "Enzo, I know next to nothing about you except that you're one of Luca's soldiers, and your life is exactly what I'm trying to escape."

"What do you want to know?"

Her eyes softened. "Enzo, it's too late."

"WHAT do you want to know?"

She shook her head, the ends of her pink hair brushing her shoulders.

Leaning forward, I jabbed my hands into my hair. This wasn't fucking happening. Resting my elbows on my knees, I forced down my panic. "I'm sitting here, offering to tell you whatever the fuck you want to know about me. The least you can do is give me a fucking chance. So tell me what you want to know."

At first, I thought she wasn't going to answer. I glanced over at her. Her chest rose and fell with quick breaths. Her jaw was set stubbornly, but then our gazes clashed, and I saw a flash of uncertainty in her eyes. "Something," she finally said. "Anything!"

A flicker of hope sparked within me. "All you need to do is ask me, Sera."

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a hard stare. "Okay. Tell me. How many other arrangements like this one have you had with women? Or men, for that matter?"

That was easy. I stared back, hoping she would see the truth in my eyes. "I've never done this before."

That seemed to take her aback. "So, this isn't a thing with you? Taking women off the streets and offering them money to have sex with you?"

I smiled at the surprise in her tone. "No. This isn't a thing with me. I prefer the emotional distance of escorts. Plus, they're a lot less expensive. I only have to pay them for one night at a time."

"Then I don't understand why you're doing this now. With me."

"What is there to understand? I wanted you, Sera. And after you tried to run from me, this was the only way I could have you."

"You could've just asked me out to dinner. Like a normal guy."

But that would've given her more of a chance to turn me down. "I'm not normal. And neither is my life."

"So you've never loved anyone? Never been in a relationship?"

"I didn't say that." She waited for me to say more. I didn't want to. "It's not important."

But I'd piqued her interest. "I'd like to hear about it anyway."

I scrubbed my hand over my face, feeling the growth of stubble on my jaw. I didn't like talking about my wife and son. That was a different time. A different me. Well, maybe not so different. But I could tell by the look in her blue-gray eyes that she wasn't going to let this go. "I was married. Once. When I was young. And we had a son."

"Where are they now?"

"They're not here anymore."

I saw the way she tried to hide her surprise. "What happened to them?"

"They're dead," I said flatly, biting down on the pain that threatened to rise from the depths of my core, where I kept it shoved down in my own personal hell. "And it was my fault." I hadn't said that out loud since my wife's funeral, but I felt the heaviness of that statement weigh me down until I felt like it was crushing my lungs. It was the truth, and there was no escaping it.

Her hands flew up to cover her mouth. "Oh, my god. Enzo, I'm so-"

"Don't," I told her, cutting off what she was about to say.

"Don't what?"

"Don't look at me like that. Don't feel sorry for me."

She lowered her hands back down to her lap. There were tears in her eyes. For me? Or for the innocent woman and child I'd killed? Well, technically, I hadn't killed my son. But he was dead because of who I am. "What were their names?"

"Sera, I don't want to talk about this."