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Authors: DC Renee

BOOK: Three Loving Words
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Twelve

Enzo

I always liked this club.  It had a wide range of beautiful women, from underage college girls who wanted a night of fun to cougars who thought I was God’s gift to them.  I could dance when I needed or wanted, but most of the time, my buddies and I got a table and watched.  The ladies would usually come to us.  I was out with three friends that night, but we had an unspoken rule – every man for himself.  If we happened to find a group of four single hot girls, better for us. But it never really worked out that way.

We hadn’t been in the club for more than a few minutes when Chad spotted my kill for that night.  He just didn’t know I was going to mark the territory yet.

“Hot damn, check out that fine ass.”  It had truly been a fine ass.  The girl was with two others, who had been facing us.  They were both good looking and either would have been good for me, but something about the one whose back was to us was more alluring.  Maybe it was the way she moved, slightly unsure but oh-so-sexy.  Maybe it was the way her dress clung to every curve, showcasing her amazing body.  Maybe it was the way her hair fell down her back, slightly sticky from sweat and a bit mussed from dancing that made it look like sex hair, and it had me imagining all the ways I could grip those locks while I pounded into her.  Maybe it was none of those things, but something was definitely appealing about her and I hadn’t even seen her face.

“You know a body like that has to have a face to rival.”  I hoped what Chad said was true.

“I guess we’ll see,” I spoke as I started striding toward her.

“What the fuck, man. I saw her first,” he called after me.

“She has friends.”  He knew better than to challenge me for a girl.  I’d win, hands down, every time.

I saw him head for one of her friends, but moments later, she was telling him to fuck off.  I didn’t care; I had my hands all over my prize, and the way she felt in them was unbelievable.  Her scent was familiar, but I couldn’t place it.  It didn’t matter.  Her body melted into mine and we moved slowly to the beat, our bodies practically singing with anticipation.  Oh, this was going to be good.  I looked over at Mikey, who was having more luck with her other friend.  He tipped his head to let me know the front of my partner was just as good as her back.  That was all I needed.

“I want you,” I told her, and I felt the tremble of her body.  I imagined her body quivering under mine.  “I want you,” I repeated again for good measure.  She was going home with me.  And that was when things fell apart.

“Enzo.” I heard the voice loud and clear even though she spoke it low.

“Paige?”  I wasn’t sure if I was questioning whether it was really her or whether it had truly been her that had spurned such a reaction from my body.

“Enzo?” her friend who had pushed Chad away asked.

“Chandra, meet my husband.” She waved a hand at me as if I was nothing.  “Enzo,” she stated my name again.

“I …uh …” her friend, Chandra, stuttered.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Paige finally asked me, her voice full of questioning and no sense of anger.  Well, that was just dandy because as I stood looking at her, I was getting pissed.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I gritted.

“I’m out with my friends,” she snapped back, her voice getting a bit of an edge.

I didn’t know what came over me, but I grabbed her arm and dragged her away.  I saw her look back at her friend and shake her head, some sort of indication not to follow, I assumed, but I didn’t give a damn.

I pulled her into a hallway near the bathrooms where the music didn’t overpower our conversation.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Paige?” I asked her again.

“I told you.  I’m out with my friends having a good time.  Or I was until you showed up.”  She sounded frustrated.

“You look like a fucking whore.”  She didn’t look any different from the hundreds of other women at the club, probably even more covered up than some were, but she had no right to look like a temptress in the first place.  Showing that much skin was not allowed for her.

“You bastard,” she cried, and I saw her shoulders heave with the effort to not actually shed any tears.

“I might be a bastard, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re here parading yourself around and dancing with every Tom, Dick, and Harry.”

“You danced with me!” she yelled.

“And I thought you were an easy lay, so that proves my fucking point,” I screamed back.

I hadn’t necessarily thought she was easy, but I had wanted her.  My blood boiled thinking of all the other guys who looked at her that same way.  How many people had imagined her naked?  How many guys had touched her before I got there?  How many people had she flirted with and danced with and led on?  I was irrational and fuming and a whole mix of emotions.  And it always seemed to be that way with her.

“And what about your boyfriend?  You think he’d like knowing you were rubbing up on other guys’ dicks?”  It actually made me smile a bit to think there was trouble in paradise.  Hell, I was starting to think I’d rather have her here than with Luke.  Even his name left a bad taste in my mouth.

“That’s none of your business,” she retorted.

“I wonder how he’d feel about you shaking your ass for everyone.”

“Is this about Luke or about you?” she asked, her voice full of venom.

“This is about you!  You are my wife and the way you act in public for everyone to see affects me.”

“And the way you act in public?”

“Is my own fucking business.”

“So is what I do,” she stated.

“No!  I will not have this.”

“What are you going to do, ground me?” she asked hotly.

“Not a bad idea,” I sneered.

“You can’t control my life any more than you already do.”

“You sure about that?” I asked.

“Ugh!” She held up her hands as if in defeat.  “You … you … I don’t even have the right words for what you are!”

“I’m your fucking husband, so act like you’re my wife,” I said ardently.

“In name only,” she spoke quietly, her voice sounding slightly forlorn.

“It doesn’t matter how.”

“It does to me!”  I didn’t even know what in the hell she meant, but it really truly didn’t matter.

She was starting to push my buttons again.  I had wanted to go out and have a good time and here I was about to be stuck babysitting her.  No way in hell was I letting her out of my sight with the way she was dressed tonight, and I wasn’t ready to go home.  It was more like I didn’t want to have to explain to my friends that it bothered me that every guy, including them, was ogling my wife.

I slapped my hand against the wall I had been leaning on as I pushed away from it.  I saw her flinch at the sound.  It pleased me and infuriated me at the same time.  I wanted her to be wary of me but not like that.  I had proved time and time again that I wouldn’t touch her, so what the hell was her problem?

“Dammit, Paige!” I yelled in her face.  “We’re in this because of you.  So suck it up, little girl, and behave or I’ll make you behave.”

She opened her mouth and then shut it.  Good.  I didn’t give her a chance to respond before I grabbed her and started pulling her back to the dance floor.

“Where are we going?”

“You think I’d trust you to act appropriately after what I just witnessed?  Oh no, no way.  I’m watching you closely all night.”

“I’ll just go home.”

“And bring yet another fuck buddy into my house?  No, thank you.”

“You’re an asshole!”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m not going home yet, so that means you’re hanging with me for the rest of the night.”

“I hate you,” she whispered so low I barely heard her over the music, but I did and it struck me cold.

“I hate you too, Paige.  I hate you too.”

Thirteen

Paige

“You didn’t tell me your husband was hot,” Chandra whispered when we got back to Enzo’s table.  Lynn and one of Enzo’s friends had hit it off, so I had a feeling we would be hanging out at his table regardless of whether Enzo wanted it anyway.

“Haven’t you ever heard that a personality changes how good looking a person is?”

“I believe it.  He’s jealous,” she added after a beat.

“Of what?”

“Doesn’t matter, but keep it going.”

“How?”

“Flirt.”

“With?”

She moved her eyebrows toward the two other friends sitting with us.

“Those are his friends,” I whisper-cried.

“So?”

She was right.  So?  Operation Make Enzo Jealous just got a new stepping-stone.

Enzo’s overbearing demeanor ended up working in my favor.  I flirted with his friends for about another hour.  I got several pinches under the table and a few very hard looks, but it was worth it.  It was after that hour that Enzo announced he was ready to head home.

“You’re coming with me,” he announced.

“My car is at Chandra’s.”

“You’ll get it tomorrow.”

“How?”

“I don’t know or care, but you’re coming with me.  That’s the end of it.”  The look he gave me had me realizing I wasn’t getting my way.

I said my good-byes and we drove in silence all the way home.  I saw his knuckles turn white several times as he clutched the steering wheel.

The only words he spoke to me were when we finally got home.  “You don’t ever disrespect me like that again, got it?”

I didn’t respond, so he took a step closer.  “Do. You. Understand?”  He punctuated each word as its own sentence.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.  I just went out with my friends,” I whined.

“You wanted to be my wife.  You asked for it.  So now, you have to live with it.  You conduct yourself in a manner that is appropriate for a married woman.”

“I didn’t ask for this!”

“Yeah, well, it’s what you got.  So deal.”  He stormed away, getting the last word and leaving me a crying mess.  I had never felt good enough for my parents or for my sister, but I never cried.  It had steeled my spine, made me tougher, and made it easier to deal with things.  And here I was crying all the time with Enzo.  I had to stop letting him get to me.  I just didn’t know how.

*****

The rest of the semester flew by much the same as my life.  I’d like to say it was uneventful but living with Enzo was always a roller coaster.  You just never knew if you were getting on one with a lot of loops and drops or a kiddie ride.  I was able to get my grades up thanks to Luke.  The first time Enzo saw Luke after the whole club incident was worth the entire night.  I could tell Enzo had thought things were amiss between Luke and me from the things he had told me at the club, and when he saw Luke, he was none-too-pleased.  If I hadn’t known better, I’d think that bothered him more than me “whoring” myself out at the club, as he so eloquently put it.  Needless to say, I hadn’t gone back to that club or any club all semester.  Enzo had ruined that experience for me, much as he damaged everything.

He was still the same hateful Enzo toward Luke, which brought a huge smile to my face every time.  Even if he wasn’t jealous, it still made me happy to know his mood was shot to hell, if only momentarily.

His attitude toward me never wavered.  He still made snide remarks when he could, shot me glances filled with disdain any chance he had, spoke my name as if we were conducting a business transaction, and ignored me almost as much as I ignored him.  I continued to ignore him as often as I could, which was pretty much my only defense against him.  We argued plenty, and I use that term mildly.  It was more as if I did something that disturbed Enzo; he’d belittle me, yell, get in my face, and make me think he was going to do more than he did. He’d get visibly upset when I’d recoil, he’d storm away with the last word, and I’d go cry in my room.  I was getting used to the routine.

I hated him probably even more than he hated me, but I had rarely uttered that sentence whereas he never failed to deliver the three loving words time and time again.  I knew living with Enzo was some sort of punishment for something I had done in another life, but I never figured out what.

The day of my last final of my very first semester at college was a hair away from being yet another form of punishment for my past lives’ crimes.  My car was old with many miles, but it had always been reliable.  My parents never had a ton of money, but they found some when it was time to buy Nora a car.  The used, or rather, the very used Honda Civic was what they got her.  It had then been passed on to me when Nora left for school.  She had taken good care of it, and I had tried my best as well.  But it had one foot in car heaven at all times.  And that day, it decided it was going to try out the car clouds.

I guess I can’t blame it completely on my car.  I had been cramming for my exam and ended up staying up later than I had hoped, which in turn had me waking up later than I wanted.  I had rushed to make it to my final on time, and I had already been crunched for time when the car wouldn’t start.

“No, no, no, don’t do this to me,” I screamed at my steering wheel.  I pounded on it so hard I honked the horn.  When that didn’t work, I talked to it as if it was a person, pleading with it to get me to school one last time and then I’d let go.  Nothing.  I got out of the car, raged at it, kicked the tires a bit, and stormed inside.

I didn’t want to bother Luke, but I would if I had to.  I looked at the time but realized he was in the middle of a final.  I tried Chandra’s phone with no luck.  I even dialed Lynn, but she didn’t pick up either.

I didn’t have much money, but I was more than willing to fork over any cash I had to for a cab if they could get me there in time.  Ever wonder why cab companies tell you to call in advance?  It was because they apparently weren’t at your beck and call just waiting to pick you up.  The cab would only be at my place in thirty to forty minutes, “depending on traffic.”  I couldn’t wait that long. I was officially screwed.

I felt the tears trailing down my cheeks way before my voice registered that it should be wailing along.  I had put my head in my hands and wallowed in self-pity.  All that hard work, all that time and effort, and all that thought of being independent and making something of myself down the drain.  I berated myself for not thinking ahead, for getting myself into this mess, for just being me.  I was pretty sure I had been mumbling all these things out loud when I heard the scrape of metal against the table.  I looked up from my hands to see a familiar set of keys and hand next to my head.  I trailed that hand to its owner.  I felt resentment like I never had at that moment.  Enzo was mocking me.  He knew I had no way to get to school, he must have heard my phone calls and my musings, and he was using that to his evil advantage.  I looked at him and how incredibly well put together he was, as always.  I tried to envision the detestable glare, his reproachable sneer as he looked upon my red-glazed eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, and puffy face; I braced for the comments I knew he’d make about how this was my fault and that was what I got for trying to make it on my own.  I saw none of that; I heard none of that.  I saw pity in his eyes, and I heard the sincerity in his voice when he finally spoke.

“I need the car at one, but that should be plenty of time for you to take your exam and make it back here.”

“Wha-what?” I stuttered.

“Just please have my car here back by one,” he responded with a bit of irritation at having to repeat himself.

“Why … why are you helping me?”

Enzo seemed to ponder this question.  He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand as he thought of an answer.

“I honestly don’t know.  But you had better head out if you’re going to make it.  So I suggest you go and you can think about all this later.”

I grabbed the keys from his hand, my fingers brushing his hand.  It felt nice, but I didn’t have time to think about that other than it was probably related to being grateful.

“Thank you,” I told him quietly as I rushed out the door.

It had been the most surprising Enzo moment thus far.  One of the only days I didn’t hate him.  I didn’t hate him one bit.  In fact, I kind of liked him at that moment.

Even when I came home and he was back to his old self, “My car better not have a scratch on it,” leaving the ‘or else’ unspoken, it didn’t bother me.  I even almost felt like maybe he had put on a hard façade to compensate for his flash of congeniality.  I knew that was a pipe dream to think he was secretly a nice guy underneath it all, but that day, I lived in that fantasy.  It was only the next day when I “put the cereal in the wrong place,” and got an earful about it that I went back to hating Enzo.  The funny part was that I hadn’t even touched the cereal. I had just been dancing and singing a song while cleaning the kitchen after making breakfast for myself when Enzo stomped in and raised hell.  It was just another part of my life I was getting used to - hating my husband.

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