Page 23 of Enzo

As soon as my feet hit the ground, I send a little thank you up to whoever’s listening and pull out the pair of socks I borrowed—okay, stole—from Enzo’s drawer. Because this is New York, and I’m not walking the streets barefoot. I might have also seen a fifty-dollar bill on his dresser that I swiped. I’ll send both the socks and the cash back to him. Despite his claim that I’m alittle thief, I’m not. Desperate times call for desperate measures, though.

I quickly hail a cab, climb in, and give the driver the address for my apartment. I’m not going back to the dorm. That Kayleigh is gone. There’s also a strong possibility that Enzo will turn up there looking for me.

The first thing I do as soon as I get home is check every room. It’s small, so it doesn’t take me long. Then I find my phone and dial my mom’s number. When it rings out and I’m prompted to leave a message, I tell her to call me back.

I need to dial into the agency. I have to. As I’m considering what I’m going to say to my boss, Geoff’s name pops up on the screen. That’s weird. Why would he be calling me on this line?

“Hello?” I answer.

“Kayleigh, where are you? I’ve been looking everywhere for you?” he rushes out.

“I’m fine. Why are you looking for me?”

“We need to talk. Can we meet up? Tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you,” he says.

“I’m calling in. I need out of this assignment. Something came up. I have to go home to my mother’s,” I lie.

“Don’t do that yet. Let’s meet up. Where are you?” he asks again.

Something’s off. I don’t like the urgency in his voice.

“I’m in my dorm room,” I lie again. Then I walk into my office and power up my laptop. I have cameras back at the school. I’m sure Enzo knows I left by now and is about to turn up there looking for me. “I’ll meet you at the usual place. Give me an hour,” I tell Geoff.

“Okay, don’t call in yet. Let’s talk first,” he urges.

“Sure.” I have no intention of doing that, though. I need to get out of this assignment, and something is very off with my partner.

I call my superior, Jane Kingston. “Kayleigh, what have you got?” she answers on the second ring.

“Nothing. I need out,” I tell her. “There’s been a complication.”

“What kind of complication?” Jane asks.

After explaining the situation to her, leaving out the night of orgasmic bliss I had with Enzo of course, she tells me to get out of town. Which is exactly what I plan to do.

I take the world’s quickest shower and then get dressed, arming myself as much as I possibly can. I pull a duffel bag from the top of my closet and start loading it with clothes before leaving the bag on the bed and making my way back to my office. I’m going to need my passport and some cash.

A loud knock on my door has me pausing. So I tiptoe into the foyer and peek through the peephole, finding Geoff standing on the other side of my door.

What is he doing here?My head tells me not to open it.

I slowly step backwards, my heart pounding in my chest and my entire body overcome by its natural fight-or-flight instincts. When I hear a key turn in the lock and the doorknob twist, I decide I need to fight.

I reach behind my back and pull out the Glock I only just picked up. By the time Geoff is stepping in, I have my gun raised and aimed at his forehead.

Except he’s not alone. I get two shots out before a body slams me to the floor.

“Fucking little bitch.” The words are screamed into my face, and then a fist comes down, connecting with the side of my head. My vision blurs and everything goes black.

Chapter Seventeen

Iunderestimated her. Fuck. I’m completely fucking stunned, staring at my bed. My empty fucking bed, where my little thief is supposed to be. The rustling of curtains has my head snapping up.

“She fucking didn’t,” I growl while stomping over to the open window. I peer over the ledge and can make out the pathKayleigh took, right down the goddamn fire escape. “I’m going to kill her,” I hiss under my breath.

What the hell was she thinking? She could have broken her fucking neck.

“Lose something?” Pops asks, his tone full of humor.

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