Page 135 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation
Tears stream down my face, and it’s all my own fault.
He didn’t even fight for me.
And it’s enough for me to hate him all over again.
epilogue
SEAMUS
It’s beentwo fucking weeks since Ava walked out like the coward she is. I’m pretty sure my entire family wants to put a hit on me for not going after her.
At least my motorcycle’s working and I can escape them all.
Usually I drive like a maniac, tearing up and down congested streets, swerving through traffic, indulging in a death wish every time I start the engine.
But not today. Today, I ride carefully. Petal’s wheels are at home, and both his head and Bruiser’s stick out of my zipped-up leather jacket.
I’m only careful when I have them with me.
“Just think,” I say to Petal, “soon you’ll have your own speed wheels so you can run around with Arnold. I think they’re just regular wheels with flames painted on, but they’ll work fine. And Bruiser, you’re gonna share a roomier cat backpack with your brother, Clawzilla. But Dec swears you’ll have your own, too. So make sure you look happy when he shows everything to you.”
I chuckle, but it doesn’t reach my heart.
Because I hurt. Everywhere.
My dreams are filled with that coward, Ava. I beat off to her even when I don’t want to. Even if I decide to put on porn, I endup turning it off because it just distracts me from thoughts of her.
No one told me being in love would hurt or that it’d be so fucking hard. Or that it would suck. But it does.
With a sigh, I ride down our street and pull up to the curb.
Everything in me both explodes and shuts down at the same time.
I don’t say a word as I stare at the woman standing on the front steps of the brownstone.
Instead, I pull my gaze away, press the code on the garage door opener, and walk the bike in.
She follows without a word. I close the garage door and kneel down, opening my jacket. Bruiser tumbles out and scrambles up, darting around.
Petal yips as I help her out. I carry her over to her set of wheels and settle her into them. She takes off as soon as they’re secured, zooming around with Bruiser.
“If you want me to sign divorce papers, I’m Catholic,” I say in a flat voice. The Catholic part is true. I’m just not a good Catholic. I’m also not sure I believe in God, but I like the idea of a higher power looking over us. In our line of work, we need all the divine intervention we can get.
“Seamus.”
My jaw aches from clenching so hard. “Go away, Ava.”
“No.”
“What the fuck do you want from me? Blood? You’ve accused me of things I didn’t do. I told you I love you, and you threw it right back in my face when you left like that.” With a throbbing pulse, I stalk over to her. “I don’t throw those words out there, Ava. In fact, I’m pretty fucking sure you’re the only person outside my family I’ve loved. Or been in love with. So, I ask again, what the fuck do you want from me?”
“Forgiveness.”
Fuck.
Blood rushes between my ears, my heart shattering all over again. She’s wearing a pretty dress, one I bought for her. The rest of them are still neatly arranged in her walk-in closet.
I opened the closet door.
