I think about lying because he has some fucking audacity, I’m not some kid.
But I could have killed Enzo.
I bend down, pulling my blade from between my sock and loafer. I hold it out to Giovanni and he takes it with a frown. His gaze lifts to Enzo who’s still quiet, all concern from earlier erased from his expression. “I trust that you’ll keep his hands off of your weapons?” He raises a brow.
Enzo gives a sharp nod.
“Good.” His eyes move between the two of us. “Now, I’m going to call the doc and by the time she gets here you two are going to have figured this shit out. We just narrowly escaped a shootout, the last thing we need is to be killing our own over… confused emotions.” He sends me a pointed look before turning on his heels and exiting the room.
I stare after him for a few moments, not prepared to look at Enzo.
When I do, I wish I hadn’t.
He’s hurt. Not physically, but emotionally, it’s in his eyes, the way he looks at me as if I’ve crushed all his hopes and dreams. His lips are pressed completely down and he’s tucked his hands in his pockets, his posture tight.
I should apologize, I know it. I’m not so out of touch to know when I’ve done something wrong. But he’s wrong too.
He’s the one who threatened to fucking leave me, even if he didn’t say it in those exact words.
Yeah, well maybe I don’t want it to work like that anymore.
“I…” I’m at a loss for words, my throat dry. Just fucking say it. “I’m not sorry.”
It’s the wrong thing to say, I know it, but it’s the fucking truth. I’m not going to lie for the sake of his feelings. “You threatened to leave me,” I bite out.
“And did you really think I would?” he asks. All the fight from earlier has drained out of him, which is good. If he yells at me again, I just may snap again. “After everything, you really thought I was going to leave? Where the fuck would I even go?”
I tense up. “Is that the reason you stay?” I ask him, my chest tightening. “Because you have nowhere else to go?”
Enzo may have been homeless when we took him in, but I know for a fact that he’s sitting on a nest egg now, having saved all his money he’s earned over the years. He doesn’t pay rent, living in the mansion. I gifted the car to him a couple of years ago, paying cash for it, and then putting the insurance under my plan. Giovanni pays his cell phone bill, as he does for all the men he keeps on as guards.
If he wanted to flee this place, he could easily enough, right?
My fingers ball into a fist.
He shakes his head, letting out a dry laugh. “You’re the samrtest man I know and yet sometimes you’re so fucking stupid.”
My eyes narrow but he ignores the look, slapping my chest hard enough that it stings, hard enough to let me know he isn’t playing around. His eyes meet mine, the depth of them making something inside of me crumble. “I don’t stay because I don’t have anywhere to go, I stay because I fucking love you.”
He’s not allowed to say those words.
It’s another one of those unspoken agreements that we have.
He loves me and I know it, but he’s never allowed to tell me, to let those words leave his lips like little bullets.
It complicates things.
“You don’t like hearing that, do you?” he asks harshly. “Well guess what, Maximo? I love you, love you so much that I stick around even when I know I should be halfway across the country. You just held a gun to my head before firing it within inches of my brain. And yet, I haven’t even made an attempt to leave this room. If I can put up with that, you should at least be able to listen to me when I say I love you.”
He won’t fucking stop saying it.
And my heart won’t stop fluttering every time he does.
Fluttering?
No. No. No. My heart doesn’t fucking flutter.
Already, those stupid fucking words are making my body do stupid fucking things.