In the end, she assures me that I’m not under arrest, but they still will need to ask questions as the investigation unfolds. While walking me out of the interrogation room and to her desk, she speaks to me about options for a place for me to stay until I get an official identity in place.
She’s mid-sentence, in the middle of rifling through file folders by her desk, when she stops, her eyes locked onto my thigh.
My stomach twists and my eyes instantly cut to where she’s staring.
My tattoo.
I’m still wearing the jean shorts, leaving it entirely on display.
Heart thudding, I fondly finger the wonky black letters, a slight smile on my face. Hopefully, her seeing that I’m not trying to hide it will make her unsuspicious.
“I got in so much trouble for that, but I don’t regret it.”
Her brow furrows and she comes around to get a closer look.
“The hell is it?”
“I, uhm, I found a sewing needle and got some pen ink and gave myself a tattoo,” I explain awkwardly. “I’ve been angry with my dad for so long, it was one of the few ways I chose to rebel.”
I hate that I’m forced to paint over such a special memory with an ugly one, but at least I know the real one. I’ll always have Simon to hold on to.
Officer Bancroft chuckles. “I like it. But don’t do that again. Could’ve given yourself a serious infection.”
“Okay,” I say with a soft smile.
“So, there are a few shelters that will take you in, but—”
“I’d like to stay with Enzo,” I cut in.
She tightens her lips, and the look on her face has my nerves reigniting all over again. “Please, he protected me. He saved me. I-I don’t want him to get in troub—”
“Honey, they’re just questioning him right now. I understand that you might feel safe with Enzo and have formed a bond, but why don’t we find someplace that might be able to give you around-the-clock care? You’re going to experience culture shock and have difficulties acclimating, so it’s important that we make sure you’re okay.”
A shot of adrenaline releases into my bloodstream, and I’m beginning to panic again. It’s starting to feel like a constant state of mind.
I don’t want to go to a shelter. It feels like, yet again, I’m being forced to give up my freedom.
I shake my head, taking a step back. She sighs softly, noting the distress on my face.
Before either of us can say anything, a door opens from down the hall, and Enzo is stepping out, with a stormy expression on his face.
His eyes immediately find mine, and his shoulders relax an inch. The moment our gazes meet, he beelines for me, cupping my face between his palms the moment I’m within reach. He tips his chin down, searching my face before ensnaring my eyes.
“You okay?”
I nod. “I’m fine,” I rasp.
He picks apart my expression for a few more seconds before dropping his hands and focusing on Officer Bancroft.
“She’s staying with me.”
Exasperation crosses over her face, and honestly, I know she sees mine and Enzo’s connection as nothing more than a trauma bond. In some ways, it might be. But she doesn’t know that we have so much more than that, and it’s not something we’ll ever be able to explain.
“We have a shelter that—”
“No,” Enzo cuts in, voice stern and final. “I am more than capable of taking care of her.”
I bite my lip, trying not to feel good about that but finding it impossible not to.
The officer who interrogated Enzo—Officer Jones—stands beside Bancroft, studying the two of us with a keen eye. He’s younger and less impressionable. It makes me nervous, but if he’s releasing Enzo, he must not have found anything incriminating.
Yet.
Bancroft sighs again, but she’s relenting. She can’t force me to stay anywhere—not unless I’m going to jail. Enzo’s sharp jaw is set stubbornly, and his eyes are gleaming, daring the officers to argue. There’s no denying his fierce protectiveness and that he clearly has no intentions of letting me go.
“You’re free to go,” Jones says. “But neither of you are allowed to leave the country. I suspect we’ll be seeing each other again, Mr. Vitale.”
Enzo slides his gaze to Jones, not appearing the least bit concerned. I, on the other hand, am shitting myself.
”And we’re under the agreement that her identity will stay hidden from the media?”
“Of course,” Jones agrees. “We will protect her.”