Page 10 of Enforce This

Mark had tried to dissuade me from buying it off of him. He said it had been his grandfather’s hunting lodge, and claimed it wasn’t fit to live in full time, but I insisted. It was a three-room shack with a porch that overlooked Lake Yukon.

The porch was in better shape than the rest of the house, and coincidentally, that is where I spent most of my time. Drinking and smoking until the world was more tolerable. Feloni nervously looked around as we crossed it and she waited for me to unlock the door.

Once I had it opened, I gave it a nudge and gestured for her to enter. Her eyes met mine and she nervously wet her lips.

“What if I don’t want Mark’s help…?” she whispered.

“Too bad.”

“W– what if I run? Will you shoot me? If Mark wants you to keep me safe, wouldn’t that be counterintuitive?” she shakily asked.

I smiled at her use of big words, and she narrowed her eyes. I knew she was itching to slap me. If I wasn’t still holding the pistol, I suspected that she might have tried.

“Do you recall how many turns back my closest neighbor was?” I cocked my head, hoping to remind her of how futile any grand show of resistance would be right now.

“Do you know how many mobsters are probably crawling around Maryette County looking for you at this exact moment?” I asked, before she could form an answer to the first question.

“How do I know it isn’t better to take my chances with them, than allowing myself to be locked inside some strange place with you?” Her frustration and stress level made her voice climb and crack awkwardly.

“You don’t,” I quietly admitted.

“I…” She huffed and made a strangled sound, tilting her face away from me. She sniffled and fixated on the lake.

“If you can manage to figure out which direction is East you might be able to swim to my brother’s house. Have you ever swum three miles before?” I taunted, my patience thinning.

Her head snapped back like she couldn’t believe I’d spoken to her that way. Her eyes glistened and her jaw tensed, but she didn’t talk back.

“Get in the fucking house, Feloni,” I coldly instructed.

The conscious weight of the gun in my hand was the only thing that kept me from responding when her hand flew with lightning speed and exploded against the side of my face.

“My name is Trista, you fucking lowlife!” she roared, her face contorting and tears spilling as she struggled to clench her teeth and keep from sobbing.

She closed her eyes and stormed past me.

“Thank fuck,” I mouthed, giving my cheek a little rub.

I took a deep breath before following her inside. She stopped a few feet past the welcome mat and stared at the interior. I’d never felt lacking before, but now that there was a chick standing here openly judging the place, I suddenly felt self-conscious about my bachelor pad.

She swallowed and I realized she was staring past the sofa, at my unmade bed. The nightstand was littered with empty beer bottles and rolling papers. A bent postcard with telltale flecks of marijuana was still resting against the lamp.

“It smells like someone let a skunk in here to play in a pile of dirty socks. What… The… Fuck….” Trista didn’t hold back.

My jaw fell at her lack of manners. I expected as much from Sasha or Crystal, but she wasn’t an old lady who might have been comfortable enough to pop off like that, I’d just picked her up from a college campus!

“How– How in the fuck are you and Makaveli siblings? That’s the true question.” I laughed and shut the door.

When I turned back, she was facing me with an expression I couldn’t read, “Who is Makaveli?”

I blinked, unable to tell if she was fucking with me or not. I snorted and shook my head, “Your brother.”

I wasn’t in the mood for college-girl games. I tried to blow past her, but the smallness in her voice made me realize she wasn’t playing.

“Princess had a baby with my dad?”

“What? No. I’m talking about Mak– You know, Mikey?” I squinted at her. “You feeling okay, Fel– Trista?”

“Oh.” Her voice was quiet yet and she studied the floor for a few moments and sighed. “I don’t know what your friends call him. I only know him as Michael… or Mikey.”

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