Page 34 of King of the Bronx

Chapter Fourteen

Enzo

“You can go,” I told Cal as I walked up to my apartment door.

“You sure she’s not goin’ to run?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Nah, she knows we’ll find her.”

Cal hesitated.

“I think I can handle her,” I said, trying to keep my anger in check.

He pushed off the door and went to the elevator. I took a deep breath before walking into the apartment. Light from the rising sun streamed in through the window, highlighting small dust particles in the air. I locked the door behind me and waited for Bello to greet me. After a moment of nothing, I set my keys down and walked across the room. The kitchen and dining room were quiet. I walked around the corner and spotted her snoring lightly on the living room couch. Bello slept beside her, curled up into her side. Her lips were puffy, and her face is smeared with makeup from her tears, but she still looks absolutely gorgeous. I’m beyond pissed at her. If it had been anyone else, I wouldn’t have hesitated to kill her right there in front of everyone. It would have been a good reminder not to fuck with me. Now, I look weak. Weakness like that would lead to other people thinking they can steal from me. I should have killed her.

Bello’s eyes popped open, as if he finally sensed my presence. He didn’t wag his tail or jump up like I expected. Instead, the dog just stared at me. Even my own dog was mad at me. I walked out of the living room and back to the kitchen. It was nearly six a.m. now. My body was exhausted, but I can’t sleep. I’d spent the night wallowing in anger before coming home. I haven’t used the coffee pot since I’ve moved into this place, but I grabbed it now and started to brew a pot. I needed to get answers, and Raven isn’t going to give them to me. Plus, I didn’t trust her, even if she did offer up so sort of explanation for stealing from me. I had to find out what was going on. Jacob was looking into the brothel. I needed to meet up with him soon. I leaned against the counter and watched as the coffee slowly dripped into the pot. I didn’t turn around as I listened to her walk toward me. Her steps were hesitant.

“What are you going to do with me?” she asked quietly, her voice filled with sleep. It was the same question I asked myself over and over again.

“I haven’t decided yet,” I said, not taking my eyes off the coffee pot.

“Enzo—”

I turned to glare at her. “I don’t want to hear the excuses. You stole from a high-ranking made man. Do you know the kind of torture I would have put you through if you were a man?”

She flinched as if I’d struck her. Bello, who sat beside her, let out a bark. She fidgeted with a ring on her finger as her lip quivered.

There was an empty feeling in my stomach. I hated being the one to make her cry. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and kill the person that hurt her. But that person was me, and I couldn’t do anything but watch her fall apart in my kitchen while I stood there like an asshole.

I grabbed two ceramic mugs out of the cabinet.

“Sit down,” I said.

She walked over to the island and sat in the metal chair. I poured both of us coffee. Remembering the way she liked her coffee, I took out a container of coffee creamer and sugar before setting it down in front of her. Her eyes were red with tears, but she lifted the side of her mouth into a sad smile as she used the spoon to start putting her coffee together.

The room was silent as we sipped our drink.

“You aren’t allowed to leave this house. I’ll have Cal pick up some of your stuff from the apartment. If you need something, I’ll have someone go get it. I’ll have a man outside the brothel at all times like I do now.”

“So I’m a prisoner?” she asked.

“Be grateful that you’re alive to be a prisoner,” I snapped. She looked back down at the coffee.

“I didn’t have a choice. I had to get thirty-thousand dollars. Everything I have is at risk,” she blurted out.

I narrowed my eyes at her. I wanted her to tell me the story, but I can’t believe her right now. When people get desperate, they do stupid things, so maybe there really was something big at risk.

“We’ll see about that,” I said. I got up from the stool, leaving my coffee cup on the island. I grabbed my keys off the small table by the door and left.

*****

“What do you got for me?” I asked Jacob, the private investigator that sat across from me at the burger joint. I owned the place. It was designed like an 80s diner. It was a hot spot during the summer, but right now, it wasn’t open to the public.

“It took a lot of digging, but I think your girl is in some hot water.” Jacob was in his early sixties. He’d been a cop at one point in his life until he realized he could make a lot more money playing for the other team. He spent five years in prison for it.

“Like what?”

“She grew up in foster care. Bounced from foster home to foster home. She got kicked out of a lot of them. Once she was eighteen, she started helping a local street thug get drugs across state lines for a pretty penny. She hung around some bad people, pimps, drug dealers, those types. Then she met Ben. He owned the brothel. I checked and it looks like he built the thing from the ground up, but from what I hear, the Irish got a hold of it.”

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