Seven glanced at him. “As opposed to prison? She chose the risk. She knew what she was doing when she tangled with traffickers and tried to frame my mom.”
“Who’s meeting us there?” Enzo asked.
“The core four,” Seven answered.
Enzo frowned. “The what now?”
“The twins, Felix, and Zane,” Seven said. “We call them the core four behind their backs.”
“Why?”
Seven smirked, folding his fingers into a complicated configuration. “Because all the Mulvaneys are close, but those four are…extra close.”
They’d all suspected that the relationship between the four went past Zaney and Lixie making out when they were drunk, but now that they’d all but confirmed it to the world, it still felt a bit surreal. Seven didn’t have a problem with how they chose to live their lives. What did he care? They were all consenting adults who were clearly crazy in love, but his best friend having not one, not two, but three significant others was a bit…wild.
“How close, exactly?” Enzo asked, a brittle laugh hiding something like curiosity and dread. “Like…Game of Thronesclose?”
“Not quiteGame of Thrones,” Seven hedged. “More like…CelebrityWife Swap?”
“Seriously?” Enzo said. “So, Asa and Felix and Zane and Avi?”
“With an emphasis on Felix and Zane in the middle,” Seven said. He watched the way Enzo’s jaw tightened at the names. The dynamics of the Mulvaney web were a map of danger—who wanted what and who would kill to keep it.
“You’re saying that Zane and Felix also…”
Seven couldn’t get enough of Enzo’s scandalized expression. “I’m saying their venn diagram is a circle.”
Enzo went quiet, eyes glued to the road, the passing headlights stroking his jaw in white and gold. His grip tightened on the steering wheel, the tendons in his hand standing out like carved lines of tension.
“Are you still thinking about them?” Seven asked, irritation prickling at the thought.
“Huh?” Enzo blinked, glancing at him, genuinely confused, which helped, but only a little. “No. Well, yeah, but not how you think. I was trying to imagine ever being comfortable enough to share you with someone else, and I was just sort of hurting my own feelings. I hope polyamory isn’t on your bucket list, ‘cause I’m pretty sure I’d murder anyone who looked at you too long. You’re all mine.”
Seven’s cheeks heated, his pulse skipping in a way that made his chest feel too small. The quiet conviction in Enzo’s voice sank under his skin and stayed there, warm and possessive.
“I’d pluck out someone’s eyes for looking at you too long,” Seven said primly, even as his heart raced. “Just so we’re clear. I don’t share either.”
“Perfect.” Enzo sounded relieved enough that it loosened something tight inside Seven.
“So, the…core four are meeting us there?”
“They should be there already,” Seven said. “They went early to scope out the location, get the supplies in place, and make sure Brioni is as safe as she can be.”
Enzo nodded, his thumb brushing over Seven’s knuckles. It was such a small gesture, but it carried weight—an anchor Seven had grown used to having—like Enzo was wordlessly promising that no matter what came next, they’d face it together.
But the truth was, Seven didn’t want to be there.
This used to be his favorite part of any mission. Revenge. Getting revenge for his own mother should have set his blood on fire. Instead, it just left him feeling hollowed out. Exhausted. Hewanted these men dealt with already so he could go home, curl up on the couch with Enzo, watch bad TV, and eat good pasta.
The faint smell of gasoline still clung to his hoodie from filling up cans at the middle-of-nowhere gas station in Calliope’s small town. They’d taken advantage of the lack of cameras. The faint tang of iron from the gun oil in his bag made his stomach twist. Everything smelled violent tonight. Even the sea air through the cracked window felt metallic and sharp on his tongue. A sliver of unease burrowed under his skin, leaving him feeling…off.
Something cinched tight around his heart at the thought of spending forever with Enzo, living together, working together. It should have sounded stifling, but instead, it felt inevitable—something already written. He wanted it now. Wantedhimnow. Wanted to be married, domestic, safe. The thought startled him. When had marriage stopped sounding like a noose around his neck and started sounding like home?
Once, the wordforeverhad felt like a trap. But with Enzo, it felt like gravity. Even when Seven had hated him, he’d loved him.
He didn’t realize he’d been staring until Enzo glanced over and did a double take. “What?”
“Huh? Oh, nothing,” Seven said, cheeks burning.
