“Good,” said Jack. When he finally managed to make eye-contact, something in Boris’s expression made his chest ache. Was it sorrow? Regret? Fear? Longing?
The screech of tires startled them apart and away from the window.
“Holy shit, is he already here?” Jack gasped, hand over his heart.
“Maybe it’s the wine,” suggested Boris, separating the blinds with his fingertips, and peering out. Just visible through the trees was a maroon sedan.
Jack shook his head. “Delivery van’s already here. Anyway, I’ve seen this car before. It’s gotta be him.”
They exchanged frantic glances.
“I’ve never shot a gun before either,” whispered Boris, inching closer to the door.
Jack wanted to scoff at him, ask why he’d been so cocky, but found his voice had dried up in his throat. Enzo was here. Enzo, who was better armed than Jack could imagine. Enzo, who allegedly dabbled in magic that he couldn’t possibly comprehend. Enzo, who perhaps had the power to end all this.
It seemed impossible that one man had caused all this chaos. Jack absolutely dreaded meeting him.
Ears pressed to the door, Jack and Boris waited. The doorbell rang. Carla’s heels tapped across the floor. A lock clicked.
“My hero!” she cried. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s so much more than Ronnie’s usual shipment. I swear, I don’t know what to do with all this!”
The voice that answered was loud, brash, overconfident. Jack could’ve sworn he felt it reverberating through the floorboards. “Well, that’s why I’m here, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.” A pause. “But, uh, you gotta tell me: why do you need help now? I thought you handled this kind of thing all the time.”
“I told you,” Carla chirped. “It’s a big shipment.”
“Uh-huh,” said Enzo, like he didn’t believe her. “It just seems a little fishy.”
“What’s so fishy about it? I didn’t feel like dealing with a bigshipment, so I called my boyfriend! Is it fishy now when I call Ronnie?”
“Well, it’s only fishy because you’re the only person in this entire town who ever does anything out of character, sweetheart.”
“I’m not your sweetheart. And what do you mean, I’m out of character? The fuck?” The edge to her voice was gone, replaced by a nervous waver. But the anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface.
“Shit,” Boris snarled, reaching for the doorknob.
“Wait,” Jack hissed, grasping him by the wrist.
Boris glared but retracted his hand. Jack’s palm burned where they’d touched.
Enzo’s voice ricocheted through the foyer. “I just mean that you aren’t normally so high maintenance. You’re a good woman, Carla. Not too needy, not too dramatic. I mean, you’re a loudmouth and you’re not exactly my type, but you aren’t a problem, you know? But lately—lately you’ve been out of your lane. Busting into the club, car crashes, running away, lots of other stuff I’m sure I don’t know about.”
Clenching his hands until his nails dug into his skin, Jack glanced at an equally horrified Boris.
“What, like I do the same thing every day?”
“That’s just the thing,” said Enzo slowly. “You did. For a long time. You know what? I think you woke up.”
“The fuck does that mean?” Heels tapped against the floor, growing quieter with every step.Shit.She was leading him from the foyer, deeper into the house.
As badly as Jack didn’t want to leave Carla alone with this creep, he had to admit that it would be easier to sneak up on them away from the grand staircase.
“I think you know more than you’re willing to admit.”
“All I know is that I need a fucking drink,” Carla snapped. Her voice had grown distant, but she spoke loudly and clearly so that it carried through the halls. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Did you open a portal and swap out your brain?”
“You never believed in the portals.”
“If you start acting any weirder, I might start. Come on. I got a lot of boxes to move.”
