“She’s not even here,” I whirl on them. “It’s not up to us.”
“No, it’s not,” Dario says.
“I just said that,” Saul says. “I’ll go back, talk to her about whatever we say here.”
No.
I circle the room, get in his face again.
His collar’s still not sitting right from earlier. My fingers remember the fabric.
He stands there like I didn’t have him pinned a minute ago, like I didn’t want to slam him into a wall just for saying her name like it belongs to him.
“You’re gonna talk to her? Tell her what?” I demand. “That you, her white knight, and Mr. Suave here want to divide herup like pie and where does that leave me? The asshole with the temper who knows twelve different ways to kill someone with his bare hands?”
Saul stiffens.
Dario’s jaw tenses. “That’s not what you are. Not how she sees you.”
“But it is.” I turn away. It’s all over my face. I’m not like them. Not good enough for her.
Fuck.
I can be. It all clicks in place.
“I want out.” The words scrape my throat raw. I look at Dario because if I look at Saul I’ll hear judgment, and if I look anywhere else, I’ll lose my nerve.
“She loves you, Enzo.” Dario closes the distance.
I laugh. “Not out from her. Away fromthis. Away from the part of me that keeps ending in blood. Let me protect her. Let me make all my crimes count for something.”
Saul’s brows rise. “What are you saying?”
“I can bury Sal. Not with my hands. The things I’ve done under his orders alone is enough to put Sal away for life.” My body coils tight. I pace like I can outrun what I’ve done.
“You’d be a rat,” Dario says, low and vicious.
It lands in my chest like a boot.
I step into him anyway, close enough that if he breathes wrong we’re a headline. “Say it again,” I whisper. Not because I want to hurt him. Because part of me thinks I deserve it.
He stands his ground. Says nothing.
For a second nobody breathes. Dario’s eyes go darker, and my body answers like it’s been waiting for permission.
Saul shifts. Not toward the door. Towardus. Like he’s already decided which one of us he’d hit first to stop this from becoming a crime scene.
“I’d be free.” My voice shakes. “And more than that, she’d be safe. For real. No more looking over her shoulder. No more wondering if someone from the family will find her. I testify, Sal goes down, and it gets quieter. Safer. Not perfect, but real.”
I turn to Saul. “You could make that happen, couldn’t you? That’s your job. Making deals.”
“It’s possible,” he says and the careful in his voice makes me want to break something. “But it’s not simple. You’d be giving up everything. Your name, your history, your life.”
“I don’t have a life. I have a job that’s killing me and a family that’d put a bullet in my head if they knew I’ve been lying to them.” I drag in a breath. “But I could become someone who doesn’t poison everything he touches. Someone who deserves her.”
“You already deserve her,” Dario says.
“Maybe. But I need to deserve myself.” I think about everything. “I’ve done things I can’t take back. I can stop doing them. I can protect her instead of being the reason she needs protection.” I focus on Saul. “Can you make this happen?”
