Brea Alepoú

“You’re crazy.”
“You have no idea.”

Who knew a man like Enzo Vitale would be jealous of a little old cat?

“You know what they say. If you love something, let it free or some shit like that.”
I shook my head. “That is ridiculous. It should be, if you love something, lock it away so that it never escapes.”
Giancarlo laughed. “Man, I’m starting to feel bad for a cop.”

He was in need, and what kind of person would I be to ignore the man that had my mind, body, and black soul in the palm of his hands? I’d be worse than a monster.

“I... I trust... you.” Tex’s words were slurred as I continued to own every inch of him.
A smile graced my face, and I felt lighter than ever. As if I could take on a thousand bullets and still live. Irrational, but maybe that was what love did to people.

“I have you.”
“Sweet but stupid. You were shot.”
“Great observational skills. No wonder you became a cop.”

“From now on, I’m the only one allowed to hurt you or make you cry. Every inch of you belongs to me.” I bit his lip. “Even your life.”
Tex groaned. “Yeah. Where do I sign, Satan?”

I smoothed my thumb over the scar left on Tex’s cheek.
“What?”
“I’d kill for you.”
Tex stared at me. Silence blanketed us for a few heartbeats. “I know, but I don’t want you to.”

Today is my wedding day.

Between the two of them, I was sure one would put me in an early grave from stress.