Chapter 16

I stared at Enzo as he slept beside me. At first, I’d been wrapped in his arms, trapped, but not hating it. It took a while, but I was finally able to break free. Now, I couldn’t stop gazing at him, thinking about the night before.

My head pounded lightly, and it was enough to get me to slip out of his bed. I padded downstairs to the kitchen, found the coffee maker, and turned it on. The smell of it brewing was enough to make me shake off some of the sleep that tried to cling to me. I pulled out a mug from the neatly arranged cabinet and set it on the counter, staring off into space.

Brycen Grennan was on my mind again. This time, however, I felt different about it than before. He’d cheated on Enzo with his own brother. And he’d used him. That doesn’t mean it’s okay to murder him. My stomach clenched.

No, it wasn’t okay, but I could understand his rage if those things happened the way he said they did. Their world wasn’t like mine. I’d been cheated on before, and the most I did was egg a guy’s house and car. In the Vitales’ eyes, that had to be a much more serious offense. And it wasn’t as if he wanted to kill Brycen…

Excuses, excuses, excuses.

I groaned and ran my fingers through my hair. There I was again, justifying a man who killed. It didn’t matter if he didn’t want to do it or if Brycen had cheated. Morally, I knew right from wrong and what Enzo had done was very wrong. Yet I couldn’t stop seeing things from his side. What the hell’s the matter with me?

“Are you okay?”

I jumped at the sound of his voice. The mug tumbled off the counter, and I caught it before it could crash into the ground. Sighing, I straightened up. Enzo snagged the mug from me and set it on the counter.

“Why are you so jumpy?” he asked.

“No reason,” I muttered, lying through my teeth. “Why are you awake?”

Enzo shrugged. “I like to get up early. Always have.” He procured a mug for himself before those dark eyes fixed me with a stare. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

Does he actually care about me? The only people who seemed to give a damn were Chelsea and Rourke. Everyone else asked, but you could tell their minds were already somewhere else once the question was asked. As if they were waiting for the obligatory “I’m fine” before they could respond to you in kind. Not Enzo. He stared at me, waiting, really wanting to know if I was all right.