“I think I’ve been a shitty friend,” I told him, and his eyebrows dipped into a V so big, they nearly touched his nose.
“You have not.”
“Tobes, you were kidnapped. You jumped out of a two-story window trying to save yourself, and I didn’t even call.”
“Marcos.” Orange hair was sticking from his scalp in all directions, swaying softly as he shook his head. “Stop trying to convince yourself how horrible you are. You called Benji every day.”
Oh.“He told you that?”
“Of course, and I understand now why you were avoiding me, but it wasn’t necessary. I’m actually sort of… relieved you’re so happy about it.”
I’m sorry…What?
His lips moved up his cheeks in a timid sort of smile, and I felt the space between my shoulders get tight as he opened his mouth to explain.
“Ivan getting shot was my fault, and for as much guilt as you’ve been carrying, I’ve probably been carrying the same. I would’ve never forgiven myself if Ivan lost more than a kidney, and when I heard you witnessed the whole thing, all I wanted to do was call and make sure you were okay.”
I swallowed around a tightness in my throat. “Tobes—”
“It’s not every day your best friend gets kidnapped by a delusional high school boyfriend, and when Elijah told me you hadn’t moved from Ivan’s side, I knew I owed you the truth. You falling in love with Ivan was the best possible thing that could’ve come from that day.”
I wondered then if Manny had sent him… if Manny had sentbothof them.
A flush started at the base of my best friend’s neck and rose until it touched the tops of his freckled cheeks. His lips stretched into a smile, and then he laughed. “Are we like… mob wives now?”
“You are. I’m still a spinster.”
“Ohmygod.”
I grinned, and it was sort of… amazing. Thisthingwe hadin common. Both loved by a man that saw us as their universe.
It wasn’t a curse; it was a gift, and I was definitely jealous of the title Toby now wore.
Husband.
I sort of wanted to demand what the hell was taking Ivan so long, but it’d only been five weeks, and that was some seriously obsessive behavior.
“What do they even do?”
“Benji and Ivan?” Toby let go of my hand and tugged his blanket up and around his shoulders. “They’re affiliated with the Italians, but they make their own set of rules. That’s how Benji explained it to me, anyway. He’s very careful about how he—”
Ding!
My heart skipped, and suddenly, Iachedfor my papa.
Toby and I both turned our heads toward the foyer, listening to the distinct sound of the elevator doors sliding open. Footsteps were thunderous as they pounded across the hardwood, growing sharper as they approached us.
Ivan appeared around the corner, chest rising and falling beneath a torn t-shirt. His wild eyes assessed the room, endless and primed with an intensity so thick, I gasped when they found me. An ugly noise ripped from his throat, and I couldn’t look away as he prowled toward me. Buzzing with need, I scrambled from the blankets that covered me and threw myself toward a pair of tattooed hands.
Wrapping myself around him, I noticed how fierce his grip was and the way he trembled right before slamming my back against the nearest wall. His nostrils flared, forehead pressed tight against mine. Some of the violence in his eyes weakened, but the grip he had on my back was punishing, and I was certain there’d be bruises for me to admire later.
I placed my palms on his face, mouth falling open when I spotted the blood that had dried against his skin.
“Papa, there’s blood on your face!” I made a noise. “That’smine.”
“I know, baby. I killed the man who put it there.”
Oh.