Vintage convertible? Definitely not.
Electric sedan? Okay, maybe that would work. They had charging ports in the parking lot at the hospital, so I wouldn’t have to worry about having enough juice to get back after my shift.
I snagged the keys but didn’t make it two steps toward the car before a booming, “What thehelldo you think you’re doing?“ caused my feet to levitate off the ground.
Clutching at my chest, where my heart threatened to burst through my ribcage, I turned around slowly and almost wished I hadn’t.
The rage etched across Enzo’s features was enough to scare me shitless. Then he advanced so quickly that instinct had me lifting both arms to cover my face and cowering, offering a weak, “I’m sorry.”
“For the love of God,” he muttered. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Swallowing, I dared to peek between my fingers. “Y-you’re not?”
A scoff fell from his lips. “You really think the worst of me, don’t you?”
Both hands fell to my hips, my temper flaring. “Huh. I wonder why.”
Eyes blazing, he spoke through gritted teeth. “Never, and I meannever, have I hit a woman.”
I huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “And I’m just supposed to believe that among your litany of sins, lying isn’t one of them?”
My husband—God, I was still trying to wrap my head aroundthat—scrubbed a hand over his jaw before changing the subject. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re planning to do withthis?“ He plucked the key fob to the electric car from my fingertips.
Glaring at him, I replied, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a shift tonight. And sincesomeonetook my phone, I was left without a way to get there, so I figured what’s yours is mine. Isn’t that right, honey?“ That term of endearment at the end was uttered with an over-the-top sweetness, and a thrill of victory shot through me when his jaw tightened in response.
“No, you don’t, princess.”
Ooh, I was itching to knee him in the balls. On second thought, that wasn’t a half-bad idea, and I was gearing up to do just that when his words sank in.
“Wait, what?”
Enzo fixed me with an almost bored expression. “You don’t have a shift tonight.”
I cocked my head. “Uh, I’m pretty sure I know my work schedule better than you.”
“That’s where you’d be wrong, considering I’ve tendered your resignation.”
Heat crept up the back of my neck. “You did WHAT?!”
Unbothered by my outburst, he merely shrugged. “After a review of the facility, it was determined impossible to guarantee your security.”
There was a buzzing in my ears. “What the hell are you talking about? It’s a hospital. They have security guards.”
“Those rent-a-cops aren’t equipped to handle the type of threat that comes with having a Bellini on the premises.”
An infuriated scream burst from my lips. “You had no right!”
“As your husband, I have every right. You’re my responsibility, Allison.”
The use of my legal name was the final straw, and on pure reflex, I spat in his face. It only infuriated me further that he didn’t flinch or move to wipe away the saliva coating his cheek.
There was a steel edge to my words when I managed to speak again. “Cut the concerned husband act. We both know it’s bullshit. I’m your prisoner, a way for you to get back at my father, nothing more.”
“I guess you’d better head back up to your cell then, since your plans for the evening have been cancelled.”
Furious, I shoved at his chest, but he was a solid wall of muscle and didn’t budge even a single inch. “I fucking hate you!”
The bastard had the nerve to smirk. “Sounds about right. Shall I escort you back to your room, or can you manage on your own?”