Enzo (Jinx Tattoos Book 1) (6 page)

If you told him a few years ago he would go to the prom and enjoy it, he would’ve laughed. Yet, here he was lounging on the bed watching television in the hotel room he and Aibhlinn had rented. Their friends had started off partying with them before bowing out to retreat to their own rooms or head on home.

She was still dressed in the blush pink gown that hugged her curves, and belled out into a skirt that brushed the floor. He’d ditched his tux jacket, unbuttoned his top buttons, and rolled up his sleeves hours ago.

“We really are morbid, you know,” Aibhlinn commented.

“Why?”

“Watching
Carrie
on prom night,” she said.

“Well, no one dumped pig’s blood on you, so I think we’re good.”

“The night’s still young,” she stated dryly.

Enzo laughed and shook his head. “Like I would ever let that happen.” He felt fiercely protective of his best friend. The girl had cracked opened his chest cavity and wormed her way into his heart…brought him kicking and screaming out of the darkness and into the light. She’d done something few people could: gained his trust. He studied her as she beamed.

Her blue-green eyes sparkled and he could see the small flecks of green inherited from her father. Her thick hair tumbled around her slender, oval face in insane curls, and she glowed. Her full lips were tempting him. Bare of lipstick they glistened and glimmered a light shade of pink. Suddenly, he wanted to know what that lip gloss tasted like, what she tasted like.

“Enz?”

“Shhh.” He leaned forward and cupped her face.

She went still, but didn’t move away.

Taking it as permission, he pressed their lips together, and his world exploded around him. She tasted like sugar—sweet and addictive. He couldn’t get enough. He tilted his head for better access and she gasped, allowing him to slip his tongue into her mouth.

It was akin to sticking his tongue into a light socket full of pleasure endorphins. Energy rushed through him weaving a seductive spell. His pants grew too tight, and his hunger for more flared. She whimpered, and he moaned. The sound of her surrender tasted better than any of the pleasure filled cries he’d wrung from other girls.

His heart raced, and his hand shook slightly as he brushed her hair away from her face. It was baby soft and smelled like flowers. He’d fallen into heaven. He lowered her body to the bed. Pressed chest to chest, their eyes locked and he knew he was in way too deep.
I love her
. The words jolted him from his lust.

He pulled back, breathing hard. “As good as this feels and as amazing as this would be with you, I just can’t. It would ruin what we have, and if I ever lost you, I’d lose my mind. You’re the only female I can trust. I need you to stay that. Do you understand? It’s nothing against you, and everything for you. I’m a bastard and I know it. You deserve romance, flowers, and a deep commitment. I can’t give you that, babe.”

“Who says it’s what I want?” she asked.

Smiling, Enzo brushed the stray strands of hair behind her ear. “It’s what every girl wants, whether they realize it or not. Trust me, I’m older and wiser.”

“Oh fuck you and your six months,” she replied with s shaky laugh.

Her eyes looked glossy and he knew if he saw a mirror, his would be the same. If he’d been a better person, someone capable of love the way she deserved, he would’ve continued. He cursed his bitch of mother and the way she’d twisted his dark soul. She broke something inside of him, and he would never be able to fix it. He rested his forehead against hers, and tightened his hold, knowing he would never again get to experience this level of intimacy with the one woman he loved as much as he was able to.

Present

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Enzo said.

“You keep telling yourself that. But you’re the only one who believes it.”

“You don’t know—”

“No. I’m not going to listen to this tired old song and dance again. I know you better than anyone. I don’t need to know every detail of your past for that. You are more than what happened to you, Enzo. Whatever you did to survive doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because I see the man you are, and the man you could be if you’d only allow yourself to be.”

Her words penetrated his armor. It stung. She’d always been the truth bringer, whether he wanted to hear it or not. “You make it sound so easy. You have no idea what I’ve gone through. It would make you sick to your stomach.”

“Then tell me,” she demanded.

“Why? So you can turn from me just like everyone else?”

“When have I ever?”

“I’m waiting for the day when you get sick of my shit,” he said.

“No, you’re pushing me toward it. It’s what you do. I’m going to end this conversation now, before we say things neither of us can take back.” She hung up.

He tossed his phone across the room. Spearing his fingers through his hair, he closed his eyes, feeling the rift between them begin.

She’d been calling to invite Enzo out to eat with her and her friend Sophia, but now he could sit and brood.

Friends since they met freshman year of college, she and Sophia made a habit of getting together regularly and staying up-to-date with one another’s life. They were a dying breed among their family and friends—women in their mid-thirties with no ring on their finger or babies to speak of. Much like her, Sophia wasn’t opposed to a nuclear family, she was just holding out for Mr. Right.

She steered her car down familiar streets, grateful when the red and yellow sign came into view. Coney’s were comfort food at its best. The hot dog covered in chill with a layer of freshly grated cheese was a hometown dish she craved when stress levels got too high. Putting the car into park, she killed the engine and exited her vehicle. The cold air did little to cool down the heat. Her conversation with Enzo had her boiling mad.

When she walked inside, she instantly spotted Sophia seated at the red booth in the back. Her brown skinned friend gave a wave she quickly returned as she strode across the floor.

Sophia had her hair a deep red now, and bone straight. You never knew what to expect with her. A metal working artist by trade, she constantly changed her look.

“Oh, I know that expression.”

“Which one?” Aibhlinn inquired as she slid into the booth across from her.

“The ‘someone just pissed in your Wheaties’ glare and lip pucker,” Sophia replied, swirling her straw around in her drink.

“Enzo.”

“You see my face?” Sophia asked, pointing to herself. “This is me…not surprised. You guys are like a married couple without the rings. I don’t understand why you two don’t just make it official and elope. It’d save us all some grief.”

Aibhlinn huffed. “Try telling him that. He’s so hung up with not being worthy, he can’t see the forest for the trees. I’ve had it, Soph. I can’t keep doing this fucked up waltz with him.”

Sophia leaned in and narrowed her gaze. “Holy shit. You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Deadly.”

“What happened?” Sophia asked.

Right as Aibhlinn opened her mouth, she spotted a waitress coming toward them. “I’ll tell you in a minute.”

“Hi, ladies, I’m Tess. I’ll be your waitress for the day. Can I get you started off with something to drink?”

“I think we actually both know what we want,” Aibhlinn answered, glancing at Sophia who nodded. “I’d like to get three Coney’s with no onion and heavy mustard, an order of French fries, and a Coke, please.”

Tess turned to Sophia. “And you?”

Aibhlinn shifted her attention and peered out the window, watching the cars pass by on the road. She hated arguing. It always seemed so pointless and draining. Better to be brutally truthful; get everything out and start working toward repair. Secrets and repressed anger festered, boiled, and soured what was once good.

Ten minutes later, they had their food in front of them.

“So dish,” Sophia said around bites of her three way. The chili, spaghetti, and cheese combo was always Sophia’s favorite go-to. They’d been through enough exams and difficult situations to know each other’s habits.

“I was calling Enz to see if he wanted to come out to eat with us. He’s been a bit down since his birthday. Which isn’t unusual, but something’s off with him. You know me, I worry. If it was you, I’d do the same gentle nudging.”

“Pestering you mean,” Sophia snickered.

“Oh, shut up.” Aibhlinn peppered her Coney with hot sauce. “I’ve been giving him his space. I learned my lesson about interference years ago.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anyway, he didn’t answer. Then he calls me back a few minutes later and it’s word vomit.” She took a large bite of her Coney and let the spicy, warm, and cheesy piece of heaven soothe her. It was impossible to remain upset when you were eating one of your favorite dishes on the entire planet. Savoring the flavor, she felt her muscles relax.

“Better?” Sophia asked with a smirk.

“Much. If you threw in a nice, stiff glass of whiskey with it, I’d be right as rain.”

“You’re seriously so Irish, it’s not funny,” Sophia said.

Aibhlinn laughed. “Well, I should hope so. I was born and raised there.”

“Trust me, Lucky Charms, I know.”

Aibhlinn snorted. “You’re horrible, you know that?”

“Eh, made you laugh, didn’t it?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“That it did, my friend. Long story short, he starts telling me he was about to screw some tart when I called and he didn’t know what the hell he was doing anymore.”

“And what did you say?” Sophia asked.

“I told him to stop. I mean, if it’s not making you feel good why keep doing it? He plunged head long into this self-debilitating speech that sounded like a heartbreaking apology to me.”

“For what?” Sophia said.

“I’m not sure. Not being with me, or being too fucked up to be with me? There are so many under currents going on between us, it’s a wonder we don’t drown in all the words left unsaid and the emotions pent up and unexpressed.”

“And…what do you plan on doing about that?”

“I’m going to lay it all down on the line. I’ve been working on a series of paintings for Mum’s show. I’m going to let him know the time for trying for more between us is now or never. If he doesn’t take the invitation, I’m going to change things. I don’t think he realizes how much more our friendship is.”

“I’m glad to hear this. I know how you feel. I get why, and I’ve seen you two together. It’s one of those connections some people never find with another person. But you’ve been in limbo for far too long, mama.”

“I know, but not by choice. It’s not that no man has compared, because I don’t do that when I date. It’s just that I don’t seem to fit as well with any other man I’ve come across.”

“Preach,” Sophia said.

She sighed. “If he doesn’t step up, I’ll have to treat him like an addiction I have to wean off and use in moderation.”

“Powerful choices and words, Ms. Leahy,” Sophia warned.

“It’s time.”

“You know I have your back whatever you choose,” Sophia said.

“And this is why I love you to the moon and back. What’s been going on with you?”

“Sadly, nothing as exciting. I did get a few new pieces commissioned, and I think I’ll take a vacation after my payment. I feel…stagnate. I’ve gotten lost in the mechanics of life. You know, paying bills, attempting to stay relatively healthy, and hitting the grind hard to go for my goals. I feel like I’ve lost something important.”

Aibhlinn frowned. “Are you feeling uninspired, love?”

“To say the very least. It’s like I’m floating in the ether, not truly tethered to anything. I need to rediscover my focus and have new experiences. It’s impossible to feed the place that creates when I’m not putting anything new and exciting in.”

“Where are you thinking about going?” Aibhlinn asked.

“I don’t know, England maybe. Or the Emerald Isle…but only if you agree to go with me.”

“I just finished up my last obligation for my current contract. So, let me know and I’m game.”

Sophia beamed. “Thank you.”

“Are you kidding me? Showing you around my old stomping grounds would be my pleasure,” Aibhlinn said.
Maybe I need to get back to my roots and disconnect, so I can reboot.

They finished their lunch, and she headed to the place she always went to for solace: her church. She took her religion seriously. Coming from a country where people literally died for their beliefs, she could never treat it as something casual. Her father had died for what he saw as the cause. He wanted to see a united, independent Ireland.

How one could kill with car bombs, and weapons, but attend Mass nearly daily and be so devote to Catholicism, she could never understand. The dichotomy smacked of hypocrisy and a serious lack of understanding of the scripture. But how could he have a chance for anything different when the belief had been forced down his throat from the time he was a boy?

For her, church would always remind her of her father. He’d been a fair man; gentle tempered while around her, but stern when he needed to be. He’d taught her the beauty of their faith and equipped her to handle whatever life would throw, because if what they believed was true, she had the most powerful being in all of creation backing her. There had been times after his death, when she’d clung to that to get by.

Parking her car, she approached the large white building with a majestic steeple and admired its beauty. Built in 1842, the church had once been the largest in the Ohio River Valley. Open twenty-four hours, it offered solace and comfort to any in need. She liked that. It wasn’t a practice common to many churches these days. She entered the church, instantly awed by the high ceilings, arches, and gilded gold paint.

Pews stretched out like a wooden sea in the massive space. She paused to dip two fingers into the granite holy water font located just inside the doors and genuflected, kneeling in the presence of God before she continued over to the statue of Mary that stood behind the rack which houses rows of votive candles. Right now, her best friend was hurting, and there was nothing she could do to help, but she could pray.

She lifted a stick, set fire to the end with a burning candle, and lit a new one, praying for guidance, strength, and Enzo. Sinking onto the kneeler, she bowed her head. In the silence of the building, she cleared out the anger, and hurt, to prepare to make her final stand. She had a few more weeks until the show. She would keep her distance until then. Soon, the time would come to let the chips fall where they may. It always hurt when you broke out of your comfort zone and left behind long-held dreams. But in the ruin of the old, a new and better vision was born.