I cleared my throat. “The drink is good…. What is it?”
“It’s a project me and the guys have been working on. Brewing our own drinks.”
“It’s really good,” I murmured, drinking some again. It was almost fruity, but had that bite of alcohol. It was definitely unlike anything I’d ever had before.
Anson drank before he settled back and stared at me.
“Speak,” he said, giving me Matteo vibes.
I placed my glass on the table and licked my lips.
“I’d prefer it if all the guys were here.”
“Well, they’re not,” Anson said. “You have me. So speak.”
“Where’s Evan?”
“None of your business.”
I closed my eyes for a moment to compose myself. “Then may I please speak to Rosalie?”
“No.” He sat forward. “You speak to me, or you fuck off, De Luca.”
We glared at one another for a moment.
“What’s it like to sit on the other side?” Anson tilted his head as he stared at me. “I remember how fucking frustrating it used to be. To want to fucking matter, but knowing someone else controlled it.”
“I am here to deliver information,” I said tightly. “And to speak with Rosalie.”
He grunted and settled back in his seat again.
“I heard you may be a father,” I continued, hoping to soften the prick. “Congrats.”
“It’s killing you, isn’t it? To know I’ve taken what you wanted,” Anson murmured.
I swallowed. “Anson, why?”
He raised his brows at me.
“Why do this shit? Huh? Yeah. You got the girl. You got my life. You got one of my best friends, and now you’re taking the other one. You win. Is that what you want to hear?”
“No.” He sighed. “What I want to hear is why you bother trying so fucking hard if you hate Rosalie.”
I shook my head. “Because I love Cole. He’s one of my best friends, and I know she makes him happy.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Liar. Tell me the truth.”
I scoffed. “I did.”
“Lies. Just be honest about it, De Luca?—”
“Because I fucking do!” I shouted at him. “I fucking care! Half a fucking decade didn’t change that portion of my heart. I. Care. Are you happy now? I fucking give a shit about…” I stopped and swallowed. “I owe her. For everything. I’m trying to make up for my sins. I know I am not viewed as a good man. I hurt you. I hurt Fox. I hurt Rosalie. I only want to make amends for those things so I can be at peace.”
“Selfish,” Anson murmured. “It’s always about you, isn’t it, De Luca? Your peace. Your happiness.”
“If it were ever about my peace and happiness, I wouldn’t have given up so fucking much,” I said softly. “You and the world can view me as a monster, and I don’t give a fuck. In fact, fuck you. It tore me apart to do what I had to do. I have lived with terrible things for five years. I have gone through hell, too. Just because I gave up what I thought needed to be given up doesn’t make me the bad fucking guy! I’m a victim too!” I pounded mychest. “I fucking lost a lot too! And I keep on losing.” I breathed out, my throat tight.
Anson studied me wordlessly for a moment.
