Page 293 of When We Fall: Part Two
I sighed and licked my lips. “I-I might. I don’t know. He’s not someone I want to fuck with. If you think Everett Church is bad, then you don’t want to meet Dante.”
“If he has Rosalie, I want to meet him,” Enzo said fiercely.
The man screamed behind me again as Drake broke his other arm. I walked out of the room and blew out a breath.
“Why do you care so much if you’re married and having a kid now?”
“Because she will always be my girl,” he answered softly.
“But she’s not.”
“Listen, just because I let her go doesn’t mean I don’t love her,” Enzo said, his voice holding a tremor to it that didn’t make sense considering he’d cheated on her, knocked the girl up, and then married her.
“Why do you even want her? You’re the head of Rustic Rifles. A don. Now one of the richest men on the planet. You have the kind of woman who fits into that lifestyle. Why do you want to drag Rosalie into it? Again?”
“Because I love her. I fucked up, and I miss her. I don’t need to explain myself to you. I’m asking for help finding the woman we both love.”
I swallowed, not saying anything.
“I know you love her. If you do, find this prick and contact me. I want to speak with him. Can you do that? Not for me. For her.”
“Yes,” I said, closing my eyes. “You fucking know I’d do anything for her, but if he has her, I’ll kill him, take her away, and you’ll never fucking see her again.”
“I would do the same,” he replied. “Find him.”
I disconnected the call and closed my eyes.
Fucking damnit. The last person I wanted to meet up with was Dante Church. I wasn’t even sure if I could reach him, but I’d damn well try.
I opened my eyes and pulled Sylar’s number up.
“Meet me at Twisty Cone,” he answered.
“Do you know what I want?” I asked softly.
“You know I do. Four PM. Come alone.” The line clicked off, and the man screamed in the distance again.
Looked like I was going to get ice cream.
I walkedinto Twisty Cone at exactly four PM and found Sylar sitting in a booth, eating a hot fudge sundae with a fork.
I slid into the seat across from him.
“Hello, Archangel,” he greeted me, eating another forkful. “Aren’t you going to order anything?”
“Sylar, I’m not in the mood for your shit today. Just tell me what I want to know.”
He stabbed his fork into his sundae. The weirdo always had his damn fork.
“Dante has a message for you,” he said, his blue eyes locked on mine.
I sat forward. “What is it?”
“He said, and I quote,fuck you.” Sylar sat back in his seat and resumed eating his ice cream.
I ground my teeth together. “You’ve actually spoken to him? Where is he? Is he at Chapel Crest? Where is Everett?”
He waved me off. “Of course, I’ve spoken to him. We’re besties. I suspect he’s just hanging out, pissing people off right now. No, he’s not at Chapel Crest. And I don’t know where that fucking prick Everett is. Hopefully dead in a ditch somewhere. He escaped when the underground caught fire. Grabbed his favorites and skedaddled out of there. He has a few people we need, and are looking for him as well.”
