Page 79 of Enzo's Vow
“I forgot I’m meeting this one tonight.” I swallowed, forcing a laugh that felt hollow even to my own ears. “Didn’t I tell you about Bobby?”
He stared at Bobby, appraising the long silver chain hanging from his cargo shorts to the hole-riddled, white tank top that had clearly seen better days. “No. Who is he?”
“My boyfriend, of course.” I kept my smile for good measure.
His green eyes flashed before narrowing at poor Bobby. “You… you met someone?”
I grabbed Bobby’s arm and tugged him closer. “We’d love to stick around and chat, but we’re headed out on a date right now, aren’t we, sweetie?”
Bobby ogled me, then passed Enzo a once-over. “G’day, mate.”
His lip curled. “G’day? Are you serious, Gemma? You expect me to believe you’re dating this guy?”
He leaned closer to Bobby, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
I stepped between them, pushing Bobby away gently. “Enzo isn’t from around here, Bobby. He doesn’t understand our slang.”
Bobby gave Enzo a hard stare, puffing out his chest. “Are you looking to bung on a blue?”
He blinked, completely lost. “Bung on a... blue? I’ve no idea what you mean.”
I winced, waving a flippant hand, defusing the situation. “He just means… are you looking for trouble.”
Bobby raised an eyebrow, enjoying Enzo’s confusion. “You understand English, don’t ya?”
“English, yes.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, rocking back. “Not slang. So, where are you both off to? For someshrimp on a barbie?”He smiled, a wolfish grin that didn’t reach his eyes.
Bobby’s jaw dropped. “It’s not shrimp. They’re prawns, mate. Prawns!” Bobby shot me a look, his blonde brows squished together. “Why do they always say shrimp?”
I grabbed Bobby’s hand, tugging him down the street. “Don’t worry about it, Bobby. He’s just being a jerk. Besides, everyone knows it’s not a real barbecue without snags.”
We marched off, leaving a puzzled Enzo in our wake.
“Don’t forget me twenty, love?” Bobby muttered in my ear as we crossed onto Bay Street.
I grinned, a surge of adrenaline coursing through me. “I’ll keep my promise.”
???
The tension had finally eased from my shoulders. Of course, that’s when Enzo showed up at mine and Harper’s Thursday night target practice. We’d finished loading our handguns whenHarper quit rambling about her terrible day at work. Instead, her jaw dropped. Her gaze moved up and down his figure in his expensive suit.
I gripped my handgun tighter, the cold metal a small comfort against my racing pulse. Rolling my eyes, I donned my ear muffs and safety glasses, the familiar routine grounding me. I then fired round after round at the target, barely registering the sharp crack of the weapon, the smell of gunpowder, the satisfying thud of each bullet hitting its mark. Six bullets dead center. Flicking the safety, I set the weapon on the table, lowered my earmuffs and pivoted, cocking a brow at Enzo.
“I can only guess whose face you pictured just now.” He grinned and winked, the gesture making the butterflies in my stomach flutter, a betraying wave of attraction, making me hate him even more.
Harper surveyed us, coiling the hem of her shirt around her finger. She knew who he was, and had listened to me complain about him all week. “I need to use the bathroom.” She shot me a pointed stare and mouthed. “Talk to him.”
Don’t leave me alone with this psycho, I begged Harper through my widening gaze, but she turned and walked away.
He stepped in front of me, blocking my desperate glare at Harper. “If you give me a minute, I promise I’ll leave.”
I blinked. Leave? My pulse quickened. My mouth opened to… what? Protest? I quickly snapped it shut. Hadn’t I given him the cold shoulder, so he’d fly back to Italy and avoid coming here again? “Good, go.” Why did I want to take back those words? I wrapped my arms around my midsection, a sudden chill settling deep in my bones, tightening like a vise around my resolve.
“But first you have to hear me out.” He stood tall, determined… much like the man I recognized months ago. “If you still don’t want me, I’ll letthisgo. Letusgo.” His tone, soft and raspy, held a layer of defeat.
A stipulated condition? What a surprise. I huffed a breath, packed away my equipment, and fired Harper a text to say I’d be out the front talking to Enzo.
He followed me out of the shooting range, his footsteps too close behind me. The echo of gunfire faded in the background as we descended the concrete steps outside. The street lay deserted, the parked cars like silent sentinels guarding the empty storefronts across the road. The harsh glare of the streetlights offered small solace, their pools of light failing to penetrate the deep shadows clinging over the closed shops up ahead. I rubbed my arms against the cold air, a stark contrast to the adrenaline thrumming beneath my skin. “Just know…” I choked, unable to force the words out. My eyes burned, tears welling up, blurring his face. “I hate you.” The words escaped as a raw whisper, each syllable a jagged shard of glass in my throat. “I hate you... so much it hurts.”
