Ren cut me off.
“Jules was shot twice, stickin’ her nose into shit that was not her business. You’re all livin’ the relief that she’s breathing so you don’t let your minds go there. But the truth is, she got it in the gut and chest, and the fact she still exists on this earth is a fuckin’ miracle. And both Stark and Crowe have taken bullets during jobs your brother contracted to do. And both those men have years of experience and training. It’s not going to happen?”
“I’ll be careful with the cases I chose to take on,” I assured him.
“In that line of business, you can’t be that careful,” he shot back. “It’s an impossibility. Your brother knows every risk he and his men face when he takes a case. They plan every move they make and every operation they undertake considering all the variables. And they’ve got enough time in on the job, they know every fuckin’ variable they gotta consider. And the one they always plan for, the most important, is they always know it’s a possibility in every job they take that there’s one variable they won’t have covered.”
“I’ve been doing this for a while, Ren. I’ve been watching my brothers, both of them, and Lee’s guys. You learn from doing and seeing, and I have. And I’m good at it. But the bottom line is, I love doing it. It’s in my blood. It’s me.”
“You’ve said that before, but I see you aren’t takin’ into consideration that it’s important to me that you do not do this shit. You do not put yourself out there. You do not get into a situation—or situations, repeatedly—that might take you away from me or, later, our family.”
Okay, maybe another tactic was in order.
“So what do you propose I do?” I asked.
“Find something you like, or enjoy your time at Fortnum’s then turn your focus to raising our kids.”
I studied him closely, hoping he was joking.
It appeared he wasn’t joking.
Nevertheless, I thought it important to seek clarification.
“You want me to be a barista and then a stay-at-home mom?” I asked.
“Honestly?” he asked back, and I nodded. “Yeah. I got my wish, that’s what you’d be. But if that isn’t what you want, we can discuss it and you can find something to do that doesn’t include maybe pissing off husbands you caught cheating or putting you on radar with pimps and dealers.”
I stared at him and said nothing. Not that I didn’t have things to say. Lots of them.
Just that he was sitting there, unmoving except for upending his phone, eyes on me, totally calm and saying this shit to me, which for all intents and purposes was ripping my heart out and tearing it to shreds.
So my voice was strange in a way I’d never heard it be, not even in all the emotional ups and downs with Ren Zano I’d experienced for over a year, when I asked, “In all the time we’ve been together, have you paid even the slightest attention to me?”
I knew it was my tone that made his face turn guarded as he straightened out of the couch, keeping his eyes locked on me and starting, “Ally—”
I interrupted him. “This is me.”
“Honey—”
“This has always been me and you are one of a very select few who have always known it.”
“Yes, I have,” he agreed. “Not that you shared that with me openly. Just that I found that shit out.”
This was true, but at this juncture, it also didn’t matter.
“What I’m sayin’ is,” he continued. “For us and our future, it’s important to me to know you’re safe, but more, to know me and our future plans are important enough to you that you yourself do what you can to stay safe.”
I shook my head. “No, Ren, what you’re saying is, to be with you, I have to prove you’re important enough to me to change everything about me.”
He took a step toward me.
I took a step back and he stopped.
“Ally—” he started again.
I cut him off again. “You don’t want me.”
He shook his head and I saw his eyes flash with irritation when he clipped, “Baby, that’s just not true.”
“Really? Am I having a conversation in a different dimension than the one you’re in?” I asked sarcastically. “Because the Ren in my dimension is telling me I can’t be me and instead, to be with him, I have to be someone who is so, so, so, so, so not me.”
I knew it would happen. It was actually a shock he’d kept his shit tight for as long as he had. And me switching to sarcasm didn’t help.
But at my words, the Italian hothead badass broke through and he lost it.
And this made his voice loud and his eyes cold when he chose a tone like he was talking to a small child, and one who was not all that bright to boot.