Chapter 364

Enzo

The weight of yesterday’s ultimatum was a stone in my gut as I walked into the tunnels.

I kept seeing Nina's face, that look of shock and betrayal, like I had ripped the ground from beneath her. I didn’t want to do it. God, I hated myself for it, but it was a wall I couldn’t see past, a line in the sand I had to draw for her safety, for our family’s future.

My pulse quickened with every step I took toward the room where the burglar was being kept. The tunnels had long since been cleaned up after the Crescent attack, and now served as our pack’s headquarters.

The lights had been replaced, the rubble cleared, and Edward’s torture equipment burned to a crisp in a big bonfire. It felt entirely different now, although it still held the memories of the time that Nina and I spend down here.

We often dealt with pack business down here, since the pack’s existence needed to be kept a secret. The only person who wouldn’t come down here was Nina, for obvious reasons. And I didn’t blame her. I didn’t like being down here either, but it was the best place for our pack’s HQ to reside.

“He’s in here,” Matt said, gesturing to a nondescript door.

“How has he been?” I asked.

Matt shrugged. “Quiet. Doesn’t respond to questioning. Maybe you’ll have better luck than me or Luke.”

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door. The burglar, a wiry guy with eyes too shifty for comfort, was sitting on the other side of a table. His eyes met mine, a flash of recognition crossing his face, and then, as quickly as it came, it vanished.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down. “Why did you break into the house?”

The guy shrugged, a smirk dancing on his lips. “I’m not at liberty to say that.”

I clenched my jaw. “Let’s not play games,” I said. “Either you tell me, or we’ll have to do this the hard way. And no one will hear your screams down here; trust me.”

He chuckled, clearly amused. “You think you’re gonna scare me?”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” I replied, locking eyes with him.

“Oh, I think I have some idea,” he retorted, his eyes flicking momentarily to my wedding ring.

I felt my blood boil. “So it’s personal, huh? Whoever sent you clearly sent you for more than petty robbery.”

“I never said that,” he said, leaning back in his chair with infuriating nonchalance.

“Don’t play coy with me. You said that someone sent you. Who was it, and why?”

He shrugged again. No answer.

My hands clenched into fists under the table. Every evasive answer, every mocking tone was another notch tightening the vice of my temper. “Listen, man, you’re already in deep trouble. Why not make it easier on yourself?”

“Because making it easy for you isn’t in my job description,” he shot back, his grin widening.

I’d had enough. In a swift motion, I lunged over the table, gripping him by his shirt collar and pulling him up to his feet. “Tell me what you know,” I hissed, my voice laced with a venomous edge that even surprised me. “You a Crescent? Hm?”

He choked, sputtering, but still defiant. “I’m not telling you shit.”

I slammed him back down into his seat, my face inches from his. “Then god help you, because I won’t.”

He looked into my eyes then, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of... something. Fear, maybe. But it vanished as quickly as it came, and he sneered. “Do it. You won’t.”

I lost it. I didn’t know what happened, but the next thing I knew, my fist collided with his jaw, snapping his head to the side. “Start talking!”

He spat out a glob of blood, his eyes watering but defiant. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

My next punch hit his gut, knocking the wind out of him. He doubled over, gasping for air, but still, no words.

“You think this is a game? You think you can just toy with people’s lives and get away with it?”

My voice was almost a growl now, a dark undertone of fury bleeding through each syllable. Nina wasn’t here anymore to stop me. All I could see in front of me was her face, the tears in her eyes, the little life growing inside of her.

He looked up, coughing, his eyes locking onto mine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

That was it. My fist pulled back, ready to land the knockout blow, ready to finally crack this impenetrable wall of a man, when suddenly a strong hand grabbed my wrist, stopping me mid-swing.

“Enzo, stop!” Matt’s voice broke through my red haze, pulling me back to reality.

I turned, meeting Matt’s eyes, the gravity of what I was about to do hitting me all at once. My hand loosened, my breaths coming out in ragged gulps. He pulled me aside, his grip firm on my arm.

I glanced back at the burglar, his eyes glaring daggers at me, blood trickling down his lip. And in that moment, I was flooded with the magnitude of my own failure. I had let the darkness take over, let it consume me, all because I was haunted by the ticking clock of 48 hours and the woman whose safety meant more to me than my own soul.

What had I done?

Matt’s grip on my arm tightened as he pulled me out of the room, his eyes searching my face with an intensity that made me feel like I was standing under a spotlight.

“Enzo, what the hell was that?” he said, his voice tinged with incredulity and concern.

I shook my head, trying to regain some semblance of control, my knuckles still aching from the punches. “I don’t know, Matt. I don’t know.”

He led me down the hall, away from the glaring fluorescent lights of the makeshift interrogation room, toward another room that we had turned into more of a break area. It was funny, knowing that Edward had once used this place for his weird and unethical experiments, and now there was a coffee machine and a couple of plush chairs.

Matt poured two cups of what passed for coffee, handing one to me. “Talk to me, Enzo. You’re one of the most level-headed guys I know. This isn’t like you.”

I stared into the dark liquid, a swirl of thoughts clouding my mind. “I wish I could explain, Matt, but it’s complicated.”

“Complicated? You nearly knocked the guy out cold!” Matt exclaimed, his brows furrowing. “You were about to cross a line, Enzo, a line you can’t uncross.”

“I know, I know.” I sighed, setting down the coffee cup. “It’s just... things are different now.”

“Different how?”

I hesitated, my eyes meeting his. What could I say? How could I explain the knot of fear and frustration that had been festering in my gut? “It’s Nina’s pregnancy,” I finally blurted out.

“Shouldn’t it be a good thing, though?” he asked. “Not a reason to flip out?”

“It should be,” I said, my voice heavy. “But it’s a high-risk pregnancy, Matt. And there’s more. Nina’s been having these... visions, for lack of a better word. Apparently, her mother had the same ones during her first pregnancy, and the baby was stillborn. I can’t explain it, but it’s like I’m walking on a razor’s edge every single day. Like history is trying to repeat itself.”

Matt looked at me, a wave of realization washing over his face. “And that’s why you’re on edge, why you lost it in there. You’re trying to protect her, your family.”

I nodded. “I need to know why that guy was there, if he knows something that could put Nina in danger. And if that means I have to resort to more aggressive methods to get answers, then so be it.”

“But Enzo, you can’t go down that path,” Matt said, his voice solemn. “That’s not you. You’ve never been that type of guy. Once you go down that path, you can’t come back from it.”

“But how can I not?” I shot back, my voice rising. “How is being a ‘good guy’ all of the time supposed to protect my family? Especially when others don’t have the same outlook on life?”

Matt took a deep breath, taking in my words. “Listen, I can’t pretend to understand what you’re going through. But don’t let your fears and frustrations turn you into someone you’re not. There’s got to be another way, a better way.”

“Look, Enzo,” Matt continued, breaking the momentary silence, “I think I have a better idea for how you can let off some steam. Follow me.”

Without another word, Matt knocked back the rest of his coffee and led me through the tunnels, then back upstairs, where the infirmary and hockey arena were. In the arena, he reached into a locker, pulling out a well-worn hockey stick and tossing it to me. My fingers wrapped around the familiar tape-grip, its slight wear comforting in a strange sort of way.

“Gear up,” Matt said, a hint of a smile on his face. “We need to play some rough hockey to let those frustrations out, not take it out on a burglar.”