Page 109 of The Colour of Revenge
“That, Princess, is your phone,” Nate’s sleep-roughened voice rumbles in my ear.
I bolt upright, fumbling blindly around the bedside table until I find the offending device, its screen flashing with Enzo’s name.
“Hullo?” I croak, flipping on the bedside lamp and wincing at the sudden brightness.
“Buongiorno, bella addormentata13.Thought you might want to know my flight is booked for this afternoon.”
“Your flight?”
“I’m needed in New York,bella. I’m no longer needed here.”
My chest tightens. Enzo’s my only real friend, and the thought of him leaving stings more than I expected.
He’s always been someone to come and go, disappearing back to the States before returning—our friendship always picking up as if he never left. Some things never change.
“I’ll come say goodbye. How much time do I have?”
“Two hours.”
“Two hours?! You said this afternoon!”
“Itisafternoon,bella.It’s midday.”
“Crap,” I mutter, running a hand through my tangled pink hair. “I’ll be there soon.”
I end the call and glance over at Nate, whose expression has turned from calm to alarmed as he stares down at his phone.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my concern spiking.
“My mum.” He exhales sharply. “I’ve got about fifty missed calls and just as many texts. All of them are about Edward.” His voice drips with disdain as he says the name, and it soothes something inside me to know he refuses to call that man his father anymore.
How could I ever have thought Nate was anything like him?
“I was going to go say goodbye to Enzo before he leaves, but I can stay with you… or come with you to see Evelyn?”
“No.” He shakes his head, his jaw tightening as he looks back at the screen. “You go see your friend. I’ll handle my mum.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” he confirms, his voice softening as he leans over and presses a lingering kiss to my lips. Then he swings out of bed, padding toward the ensuite, giving me a perfect view of his sculpted back and that maddeningly perky rear end.
It almost distracts me from the tension I feel about everything we’re facing.
Almost.
By the time I make it home, after legging it across the city, Enzo is packed and ready to go.
I give him a lift to Heathrow Airport, so he doesn’t have to get a taxi.
“I’m going to miss you,” I murmur into Enzo’s chest as I hug him goodbye.
“Maybe… keep in touch this time, eh?”
I laugh despite the ache in my chest.
“I will. Promise.”
He tightens his arms around me before letting go. "There should be no trace of any of you, my work is thorough."
