Page 85 of Never Say Never

Paul stepped between us and shoved his hands into our chests. I hadn't even realized that I had moved forward as soon as Benito did. As far as I was concerned, he was the one that started all of this.

"He wants me dead," I growled at Paul.

"Oh, if I wanted you dead, you would be dead already," Benito said.

"Stop it," Paul snapped. "It wasn't him that sent those guys after you. It was the Acetos and Triads. They've been working together and they found out who I was. And who you were. I don't know how. All I know is that they have people in the department who work for them too."

"I don't believe a damn thing you say," I said as I slapped Paul's hand off me. "And I already told you not to touch me."

Benito whistled. "Wow, this is a fuck-up of epic proportions, Paolo. What the fuck are we supposed to do now? He's going to run his damn mouth."

"I really am," I said.

"You know what happens to rats, right?" Benito asked. "You heard about Marianna."

Was it possible for your blood to run cold and boil at the exact same time, because mine was. I reached for my service pistol and realized that I didn't have it. Right. I'd laid it down when I first entered my place and then I had forgotten it in the confusion. I needed to report it lost so if someone used it, I wouldn't be implicated in whatever bullshit they wanted to frame me for.

"Both of you, knock it the fuck off!" Paul yelled. "Jesus, this day has been screwed up enough without the two of you acting like pissed off children. I get it. You hate him because he's a criminal," he said to me. "And you hate him because he's made your life a living hell for the past few months," he told Benito.

I grinned. "Glad to know it wrecked a few good days and a couple million dollars."

"Stop," Paul said seriously. "Why are you riling him up? You know who he is."

"And he knows who I am," I said, evenly. "I haven't changed. Paul practically kidnapped us, but that doesn't mean I agree with any of this shit."

"Noted," Benito said, glaring.

Paul looked back and forth between the both of us, but Benito and I were clearly already on the same page. We detested each other and that wasn't about to change. I turned on my heels and let myself into the apartment. The place was filled with generic furniture and plastic plants, the same setup as Paul's place. I shivered as I realized they had probably decorated that place for him as well. I'd spent time in the home of a mobster, one where his family knew where he was the entire time.

The door to the apartment opened, and Paul stepped inside. He shut it behind him gently before he turned and stopped short. We stared at each other, unspoken words hanging in the air above our heads, ready to rain down and slash whatever tentative calm there was between us. Which was very little.

"York."

I held up a hand. "Trust me, you don't need to say anything else, Paul. Gianpaolo," I said, biting out the word harshly. "That name is like bile on my tongue. We discussed that once, do you remember? Paolo, the dead twin? Do you remember that?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "You have no idea how badly it hurt to speak about myself as if I was gone. As if I didn’t exist. I've done this for years to protect my family. You have to understand that."

"I don't have to understand shit."

Paul walked up to me slowly. "I never planned on tricking or manipulating you, I swear on my mother's grave, that was never something I wanted to do."

"But you still pursued me. You told me you wanted me. You dragged me into your bed and made your way into my kids' lives as if you wanted to be there."

"I do want to be there."

"Don't you fucking lie to me one more time," I hissed. "Don't you dare. I am this close to calling someone and having your ass hauled in. The only thing that is keeping me from losing my shit on you is the fact that you seem to be the only one holding all the cards. I know how secure this building is. We can't even get into it with all the legal red tape and extra security. I know my children will be safe here, and that is the only reason I'm staying."

"I wish you could trust me."

I laughed. The sound was raw, ripping out of my chest and making my throat ache. I had to swallow hard, shoving down the sea of emotions that threatened to tear free. For so long, I had been numb, lonely, but numb. Paul had cut me open, exposed me to the world, and now I was sensitive and exposed.

God, I hate this. Why can't I stop shaking?

"Hey, it's okay," Paul said cautiously as he took my hands in his. "It's the adrenaline wearing off, you're probably going into some mild form of shock. Sit down."

I shoved him away from me. "This is the last time I'm going to tell you this," I said as I straightened up, feeling every inch of my six-foot-six height. "Do not touch me. The next time you put your filthy fingers on me, I'll break them."

"You don't mean that."