Hexed (Never After #6)

18. Enzo

EIGHTEEN

ENZO

Venesa is wearing an overpriced bright pink shirt that says “In My Mermaid Era” and a pair of men’s board shorts with little seashells sprinkled all over that match the boardwalk’s arch.

Her hair is thrown back up in that tangled, saltwater-style messy bun on top of her head, and her makeup, which had smeared from the ocean water, has been wiped completely clean off her face.

She looks different this way. More youthful.

Still just as beautiful, though.

I’m sitting on an uncomfortable picnic bench along a strip of the boardwalk that has oversize outdoor bulbs strung up on the railing, casting a yellow glow, and I watch as Venesa moves up in the line at a small food truck that says “Funnel Cakes & More.”

She spins around after she orders, holding two giant monstrosities of something in her hands, and her smile is so blinding, it makes my heart feel like it’s careening off a cliff and deep diving into my stomach.

I run a hand through my hair, bouncing my knee beneath the picnic table.

When she makes it over, she holds up the greasy treats like they’re trophies. “I got us funnel cakes.”

I look at the fried monstrosity warily. “I’ve never had one.”

She slides onto the bench across from me, her mouth dropping open in shock. “What do you mean, you’ve never had one?”

“Did I stutter?”

“Enzo,” she admonishes. “That’s unacceptable.”

I shrug. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Well…” She hands the funnel cake to me. “Prepare yourself to be a changed man.”

I take it from her begrudgingly, looking down at the powdered pieces. I don’t let the words fall from my lips—how I’m afraid I’m already a changed man just from knowing her.

She tears off a piece of her own snack and pops it into her mouth, her eyes closing, and then she fucking moans .

I clear my throat, my abs tightening and blood rushing to my dick from the noise.

Her gaze pops back open. “So good.”

“This looks like it will ruin my shit.” I gesture at my clothes.

“Don’t be a messy eater, then,” she retorts before popping another piece into her mouth and moaning again.

I stare at her instead of taking a bite, because watching her eat is like hearing your favorite symphony for the first time: a transcendent experience you never knew you were missing but somehow know you can’t live without.

I’ve never heard someone make food sound so sexy.

Glancing around, I check to see if anyone else is paying attention, because the thought of someone else hearing her this way, even though it’s innocent, makes me feel fucking crazy.

Those are my moans.

Except they’re not.

“Enzo.” She snaps her fingers in my face. “Try a piece. It’s not that serious.”

I lift a brow and look at the funnel cake. “You mean you didn’t poison it?”

She grins. “Nah, just put a spell on it instead.”

“I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”

Venesa laughs. “I’m kidding. That’s not how witchcraft works. Besides, killing you by poisoning a funnel cake in the middle of a crowd isn’t exactly high on my list of things to do, so go ahead.” She reaches out and nudges the treat toward me again, her eyes wide and waiting. “Take a bite.”

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I want to watch you enjoy it.”

She’s about to be disappointed. But I do it to make her happy, tearing off a small piece and popping it in my mouth.

It tastes like fried sugar.

I must make a face because her smile drops. “You don’t like it.”

“It’s all right.”

She scoffs. “God, you’re a shit liar.”

“I’m just not a sweets guy.”

She stands, ripping the treat from my hand and taking it with hers to the trash can before throwing them both in.

Chuckling, I walk behind her, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Don’t worry, piccola sirena. You don’t need sweet treats to impress me. You’re impressive enough.”

She spins around, her body brushing mine as she does, and my stomach jumps, my fingers curling into the palms of my hands to keep from grabbing hold of her by the waist.

“Well, you’re the opposite of whatever impressive is,” she says.

“Excuse me?” My brows lift, and I rock back on my heels.

“What kind of person doesn’t like sugar?” she asks accusingly.

“Someone with superior taste, obviously.”

“Now you’re just being rude.” She crosses her arms and starts walking down the pier toward the Ferris wheel.

I’m quick to follow her. “I’m not the one who tailed me here and won’t tell me the reason. That’s fucking rude.”

If this were back in New York City and someone had been sent to spy on me, I’d have them in a basement somewhere, tied up and tortured until they told me what I wanted to know.

But not her.

I can’t imagine ever hurting her.

She side-eyes me as we walk. “You’re a smart guy. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

I click my tongue and nod. Her uncle . That’s what I thought.

If I were a smart man, I’d be navigating the possibilities of her playing me entirely, of having this night with me and then running back to Trent and giving him all the dirty details. Not that I’m worried about him, but it would be an issue if word got back to my pops.

But I don’t think she will. Not after the time we’ve had here. It feels too genuine to be a ruse.

She beams up at me with a wicked grin.

Goddamn , she’s beautiful .

Then she stops so suddenly, I almost run into her back.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

She points to a booth set up in between two shops. It’s got a line of red, white, and blue bull’s-eyes a few feet back from the front of the counter, and above them hang hundreds of stuffed animals of varying sizes. Live goldfish in small bags are lined up on a low shelf behind the guy running the place.

I lift a brow and look at her. “You’re challenging me?”

She looks down at her nails. “What if I am? You scared?”

I undo my suit jacket, flashing the gun holstered to my side so she knows what she’s getting into. “I just didn’t realize you enjoy losing, is all.”

“Ha!” she barks out. “Big words.”

We walk over to the game, but before we get there, her footsteps stutter.

“You okay?” I ask, slowing down with her.

“Yeah,” she replies. “I just went to high school with the guy working the counter.”

“URCH!” he yells, his voice obnoxious.

Venesa’s spine straightens. Urch. I hadn’t realized it was a nickname used outside the family, and suddenly I’m wondering how she got it. The sinking feeling in my stomach tells me it’s the woman I’m marrying who crowned her with the name.

“Hello, Rusty.” Her tone is flat.

He grins at her, his beady eyes trailing up and down her body like she’s a show at the carnival. “Damn, girl, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

I bristle. I know she’s not mine to get protective over, but he doesn’t know that, and I’m standing right fucking here .

“Hey.” I snap my fingers in front of his face and take out a bill, waving it at him. “Quit looking at her and do your fucking job.”

His gaze moves to me, clearly sensing the dangerous position he’s in, and then he clears his throat and pastes a customer-service grin on his face. “You got it, buddy.”

He takes the money before handing us both neon-green water guns. His eyes land on Venesa again, and he licks his lips.

I stifle the urge to take out my real gun and shoot him.

“Heard your cousin’s back in town,” he says, instead of starting the game for us. “She was always a fun time.” He glances at me for a second, and the motherfucker must have a death wish because then he steps closer to Venesa and leans in. “Maybe she can do me a favor like she did back in high school and make sure you and I have time to… connect again.”

“Rusty,” Venesa croons. “If you don’t stop talking, I’m going to step over this booth and show you exactly what I think of how you treated me all those years ago. And trust me, you don’t want that because I’m much better at standing up for myself now than I was back then.”

What the fuck does she mean by that?

“Ah, come on, Urch. We had fun.”

“You’re right,” she lilts. “Let’s do it again, except this time we’ll trade positions.”

My eyes snap back to Rusty, and his face has drained of color, his eyes flashing with panic.

Rage taps against the edges of my calm. What is she implying?

“You two know the drill?” He doesn’t make eye contact now. “The squid is going to pop up, and your job is to gun it down. The more you hit, the faster your own mermaid will rise to the top.” He points to the red alarm that’s perched up high. “When that goes off, game over.”

I push the anger back down to deal with later and smirk over at Venesa. “Ready to be a loser?”

She smiles back and hip checks me. “You’re severely underestimating my abilities.”

The buzzer goes off and we start, and it’s child’s play, really, how quickly I get the little mermaid to the top. The alarm goes off, and I spin the water gun around in my hand and blow on the top like I’m hot shit, because let’s face it, I am.

Venesa scoffs. “That was hardly fair.”

“Don’t be salty.” Before I can stop myself, I brush a thumb across her cheek. “I won for you. Pick a prize, Venesa.”

She sucks in a breath, and my heart skips in my fucking chest like I’m a schoolboy with a crush. Which I guess I sort of am.

Spinning toward the booth, she points to a giant plush squid that’s hanging. “That one.”

“A squid? After what we just did to all those metal ones? Brutal.”

She makes a face. “I like the underdog—sue me.”

Rusty’s standing there staring at her, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, and I snap my fingers.

“Hey, fuckface. Get us the prize, and stop looking at her before I teach you some manners.”

He jolts to a stand and glares, but he listens, getting the stuffed animal down for us and passing it over.

It’s gigantic, so I text Scotty to meet us by the Ferris wheel so I can hand it off to him to put in the car, and then I focus back on the douchebag who works the game. Reaching out, I grab the stuffed animal from him, but with my free hand, I grip his wrist and pull him in harshly. His stomach hits the edge of the counter, and he grunts.

Lowering my voice, I tell him, “I don’t have to know the details to know you’re a piece of shit, so let me make something crystal-clear: If you ever so much as even breathe in Venesa’s direction, I’ll know about it. And I’ll come back here, and I’ll find you, and I will take my time making sure you never breathe again. Do you get what I’m saying to you?”

He swallows, his body physically shaking as he nods. Pussy .

“Good. Glad we had this talk, sweetheart.” I smile and release him, turning to Venesa and telling her we have to meet Scotty.

She eyes me curiously, and I’m confident she heard what I said, but she doesn’t mention it. If anything, there’s a bit of reverence in her gaze, like she’s surprised someone would stand up for her.

It’s a short walk to the Ferris wheel, and the entire time, I’m burning to have Venesa tell me what exactly that fucker Rusty did to her, but I hold back, because we’ve already hit the heavy topics once tonight, and I don’t want to push her for more. Not when we’re having a good time now. And if she wanted me to know, she’d tell me, same way she did with the story about her folks.

Still, I file away the information for later. Maybe I’ll get it out of him instead.

Scotty’s already waiting when we walk up, leaning against the small white metal fence, a giant goofy-ass grin on his face when he spots us walking up.

“Who’s your new friend, E?” He points to the giant squid in my arms and then takes out his phone and snaps a picture.

“You’re deleting that,” I demand, shoving the stuffed animal into his chest.

He laughs and takes it from me, slipping the cell back in his pocket and winking at Venesa. “Oh yeah, sure thing, boss. It’s already gone. Deleted. Eeee-rased.”

“Go back and warm the car up.”

He tips an imaginary hat and then bows to Venesa dramatically before spinning around and heading back to the car.

“Let’s go on the Sea Wheel before we leave,” Venesa says.

She waves her hand behind her to the very tall and extremely old Atlantic Cove Ferris Wheel.

My stomach drops to the floor. “I thought you didn’t like the tourist shit,” I force out through the panic trying to overtake my body.

Christ, get it the fuck together.

“I’ve changed my mind. I like watching you do tourist shit,” Venesa replies.

Sweat beads at my temples, my hands growing clammy. “I’m kind of tired.”

Her brows draw in, and she looks at the giant death trap and then back at me. “Are you okay?”

I don’t know what to say to her, so I hesitate, trying to come up with a solid reason before I have to admit the thought of getting on that thing makes me want to die.

“Oh, is this something you wanted to do with Aria?” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, embarrassment flooding her cheeks, making them a rosy pink. “Of course you do. I didn’t even think?—”

“No, that’s not it,” I cut her off. Her thinking I’d rather be here with anyone else bothers me more than the thought of this stupid wheel does or the thought that it should be Aria I’m here with.

She stares at me. “Are you…scared?”

I grit my teeth, irritation at her calling me out stabbing at my spine like glass shards. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You are, aren’t you?” A slow grin spreads across her face. “Is it the height or the ride that freaks you out?”

“I’m not scared,” I reiterate.

“It’s okay, you know?” She reaches out, her hand hovering over my arm like she wants to offer comfort, but then she jerks it back at the last second.

Probably for the best if we don’t touch each other again anyway.

“What’s okay?” I try to come across as nonchalant, but I’m sure I’m failing miserably.

“To be human , Enzo.” She shrugs. “Everyone’s got their thing.”

“Yeah, well, this is not my ‘thing.’”

She laughs. “I think you’re scared, and that’s fine. We don’t have to do it.”

“I’m not . Don’t you listen? How many times do I gotta say it? Christ .”

“Fine.” She frowns. “You don’t have to be such a dick about it.”

“And you don’t have to be so goddamn bossy. Always telling me what to do.”

Her smile grows, and she mimics my accent. “Big, bad gangsta afraid of a Ferris wheel. Who knew?”

My mouth twitches, and a little of the anxiety evaporates like water in the sun.

“Would you shut up?” I try to sound like I’m angry, but my words come out with a slight chuckle. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Let’s just get on the stupid thing.”

I move to stand in line, my gaze flicking to the people in front of us slipping into the open death trap.

She follows me, watching carefully.

Reaching out, I grip her hand before I think twice, and immediately my chest loosens, a bit more of that anxiety shrinking. So much for us not touching.

Her eyes drop to where we’re connected, but I’m too busy focusing on taking steps and keeping my breaths even to pay attention to anything else.

“Next,” calls out the guy who’s running the Ferris wheel.

His words lasso around my chest and squeeze like a constrictor until my breathing becomes choppy and my vision dims.

Fuck .

Venesa’s grin drops from her face, the challenge replaced by a concerned look. Her fingers squeeze mine. “Listen, let’s just forget about it.”

“Nah. I’m good.” I try to shake off the nerves, but my feet are locked in place like I’m wearing cement shoes.

“Enzo,” she starts.

“Today, please,” the Ferris wheel worker yells out.

Venesa’s eyes flash dangerously, and she turns toward him and points a finger. “You can shut the hell up.”

“Listen, lady—” he starts.

“I said you’ll wait.” Her tone is sharp, and there’s an undercurrent of something sinister, something that sends a chill down my spine, and whatever it is she’s infused in her pitch, the worker obviously feels it too because his entire body tenses and he curls his lips while he nods.

She turns back to me. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, you know? It’s really okay. This was dumb anyway. I actually don’t even want to anymore.”

I shake my head and lean in close, forcing a half grin even though my heart is pounding fast and my legs feel weak, my stomach churning from the panic. “I’ll have you to keep me safe, right?”

She pins me with a look but then nods, those damn teeth of hers sinking into her lower lip like they’re begging me to bend down and copy their imprint with my own.

“Yeah, Lover Boy. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”