Page 48 of When We Fall: Part Two
I closed my eyes and breathed out. “I-I can’t. You’re free, Ani.”
He was quiet for a moment before his voice came back on the line.
“OK,” he rasped, his voice cracking. “OK. I’m free. I, uh, I need to go.”
“Ani—”
“Bye, LeeLee.” The line disconnected, and I stood rooted in my spot, my vision blurry from tears.
I didn’t even realize Cole had come into the room. He wrapped his arms around me.
“You did the right thing,” he murmured, hugging me. “You needed to let him go for good. It wasn’t fair to him. He would never be able to join us.”
I nodded against his chest. He was right. I knew he was. Cole would never relent and share me with someone who wasn’t one of the horsemen. Enzo either. I was dragging Anson on a painful journey he didn’t deserve.
That didn’t make it hurt any less.
THIRTEEN
ETHAN
The weekend dragged by way too slowly, but the good news was the four guys, who referred to themselves as the saints of hell, came through on Enzo’s task and delivered twice the amount of money Peter Reed owed for sugar as well as photos of him beaten to hell.
Which meant Enzo was happy and had sent them to do more work. They’d been added to the payroll this morning and had already crossed four of the ten tasks off their list, which he’d given them.
Enzo was impressed. Hell, I was impressed. Even Fox nodded and commented that it was damn good work. It looked like these new guys were really worth the risk of taking them on. I was on board with it. It meant less work for us.
By the time Cole walked through the front door with Rosalie that evening, I was beside myself. Of course, I vowed I’d finish my work before coming out of the basement so I could devote the rest of my time to her.
I’d spent the weekend holed up in the basement, trying to get ahead on things. But it was more than that. It was a distraction because I was worried about Cole and Rosalie being gone.
Cole had called us once Rosalie was asleep about her phone call to Anson. Enzo chewed his ass out about telling her in the first place, but Cole said it needed to happen, and now we’d all be able to sleep at night without the threat of Ass Hat trying to steal our girl.
I didn’t like that Anson and Rosalie were hurting, but I also knew it was necessary. While I was still fine with Anson joining us, even after he continually tried to take her away, Rosalie needed to let him go. Cole and Enzo were a firm no on the subject. Anson was being dragged along for the ride. It wasn’t right, that much I knew.
Of course, I didn’t think that marrying Bianca was the way to go. From what I gathered, Dominic was going to kill himandMatteo now. It was a fucking mess.
By the time I’d finished working, I was more than ready to see Rosalie. I rushed to her bedroom and found her sitting on her bed.
“Sweetheart.” I swept Rosalie into my arms. Immediately, she twined her arms around my neck and kissed me.
“I missed you. I’m so glad you’re home,” I continued. “I’m sorry I didn’t come out sooner.”
“Mm, I missed you too,” she replied, pulling away from me. “I know you were working.”
“Are you OK?” I asked. I cradled her face, knowing she was hurting. “I know Cole told you about Anson and Bianca.”
“I’m OK,” she said, giving me a reassuring smile. “I only… I guess I don’t understand why he’s doing it. It’s dangerous to mess with the kings. I worry about his safety.”
“What else?” I asked softly, cradling her face.
She sighed. “I-I don’t know. I guess it hurts because he was right. We probably got too close, and the lines were blurred. I feel guilt and disgust over everything. I know that I would have been hurt if you guys did this to me. So I’m sorry, Ethan. It’s youand the guys. Forever.” Her voice cracked, and tears glistened in her eyes.
She was broken from this ordeal with him. I understood probably better than anyone how much shit like this sucked. I had let the lines blur with Macy months ago. It hadn’t been my intention either. I had no feelings for her other than friendship, but she felt for me. I’d punished myself, fearing I was going to lose Rosalie. So the situation might not be exactly the same, but it was close enough that I could empathize with her.
“Sweetheart, I never thought otherwise.” I hugged her again. “It’s OK to mourn these things. My therapist says it’s better to mourn them than to bury them entirely. If we fail to mourn, we spend a lifetime questioning things.”
“I don’t want to upset you guys,” she said softly.
