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I screw up my face in tears, defeated. “I can’t,” I whisper, my voice sounding strangled and small. “He’s going to send me back to Andre, and I...love him.”
God, I’m a fucking mess.
Stop thinking of him, I scream in my head. Think of you. Think of all of you.
My body moves on autopilot.
I grab the phone.
I call.
He picks up. “Well?” Is all he says.
I step away from the door and lower my voice. “Well, Agent Knox. If you’ll protect all of us?—”
“You have my word.”
“Then,” I blow out a slow, decisive breath and ignore the big, gaping hole in my heart. “Then tell me what I have to do.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
KENNEDY
Moonlight slices through the gloom and darkness, casting a silver path that Enzo follows with unnerving ease.
The man moves like a panther, silent and assured, and his presence is instant. It fills the room to the point I’m suffocating.
I turn under the covers and curl on my side, cocooning myself against everything that’s wrong between us. The last thing I want is to see his face, to feel his touch. Plus, if he catches sight of my tears, he’ll know something’s off.
I’m breaking, and I can’t let it show.
He slides under the sheets, and two big, warm arms wrap around me. My body shivers involuntarily, and his grip tightens in response, pulling me closer.
I bite my lip, struggling to hold back the sob that’s clawing its way up my throat. But the tears are relentless, brimming at all my tattered edges.
“Hey,” he murmurs against my hair, pressing a tender kiss to it. “What’s wrong? Whatever it is that’s making you cry, I swear I’ll kill it with my bare hands.”
I turn to face him in total disbelief. For a fleeting second, I actually picture him strangling himself until he’s blue in the face and unconscious on the floor.
Then, my eyes meet his, and oh, God. In the dim light, I search his dark golden gaze, desperate to find something to despise. Instead, I feel myself unraveling, my carefully constructed resolve dissolving to mush.
Warm fingers brush the tears from my cheeks and tuck the stray strands of hair behind my ear. “Want to talk about it?” His voice is a deep rumble, a lure. A trap I’ll fall into if I’m not careful, because no matter how much I want to hate him, I can’t.
Tenderness is my kryptonite. I don’t know how to fight that. Why does he have to be this? Warm and comforting.
You’re an asshole. Fucking act like it, okay?
“No,” I whisper, hating myself for how much truth is in that single word.
He keeps his arms around me, caressing my back, laying soft kisses along my cheeks and neck. “I need to make you feel better.”
He moves so slowly that my body responds instinctively, all defenses down. I try to fight it—the need to follow his lead as every touch ignites a response.
“So tense,” he whispers. “Did you like the beach?” he asks, his lips brushing against my heart-shaped freckle. Goose bumps erupt in its wake, sending shivers across my skin.
“What?” I ask, caught off guard.
“The beach. You went there today. It’s a private stretch of land we own. Did you like it?”
