Page 63 of Enforcer

Something flips inside me and makes me want to keep her surprised every day from here on out.

She deserves to be doted on and taken care of. She deserves the world.

And if she wants it, I’ll give it to her.

No matter who I have to kill to get the job done.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ALYSSA

Lipsis packed, but Dante assures me he called ahead and got us a VIP table by the stage. The walls and ceilings are an off-shade of beige, and pink and green lights swirl overhead. The chairs are red and look like they cost no more than twenty dollars a piece, but they aren’t the star attraction tonight.

“This looks promising,” Brynne says as security leads us to our table. There’s a menu on the top, and I grab it and peruse the drinks side.

“Yeah, it’ll be a crackin’ good time,” Lorenzo says, and I eye him with enough disdain to have him sitting straighter in his seat.

This is Brynne’s night. Before we left, these two got lectured that if they act up, they have Slate and Dante to deal with.

“Oh, there’s a stage,” Brynne says, utterly oblivious to the two morons across from us who are eyeballing the shit out of everyone who passes the table.

“Lyss?” Brynne says, her voice a bit sing-songy.

“Hm?”

“Why is there a stage?”

I grin, putting the menu back. “Oh, you’ll see.”

The waitress comes to our table and gives us the specials, and Lorenzo takes it upon himself to order a bottle of expensive whiskey and four glasses, telling her we don’t need food.

“Did you eat before coming here?” I ask Brynne.

She nods. “You?”

“I’m no fool. Remember that night at the Gator Tail when we didn’t eat and came straight from the beach? God, the hangover was fucking horrid.”

She groans, gripping her stomach as if its muscles remember all the retching we did the next day. “Yes. I was sick for two days! Never again.”

I giggle as the waitress brings the bottle and our glasses. Lorenzo tips her handsomely and pours us all two thumbs.

“I think we were sober for two weeks after that.”

She nods. “Oh, I know I was. I don’t know about you.”

Lorenzo makes a big, long speech in cheers, and Brynne and I eye one another, glasses high, ready to rattle before he finally finishes.

She looks at me. “I’m so glad to share this with you, Lyss.”

“I’m so grateful to be here, B.”

We clink our glasses before tapping the bottoms on the tabletop, chugging the whiskey down before slamming the glasses on the table.

Antonio and Lorenzo share a look and then shake their heads in unison.

“What?” I ask, eyes watering from the burn of alcohol.

“This isn’t college, and that’s not fireball. It’s meant to sip.”

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