Page 56 of Murder & Mayhem

Keeping my voice low, I quickly rehash this morning’s events, ending with where I am now. I can’t say anything more, but hopefully, they both see this for the opportunity it is. “I’m fine,” I say in a louder voice, ensuring Enzo can hear me. “I just won’t be around for a few days.”

“Someone’s there?” It’s not really a question, and Oliver doesn’t seem to expect an answer as he continues. “Okay.” The way he says it, I can tell he’s deep in thought.

There’s the sound of someone covering the microphone and the indistinct mumble of voices as the two of them argue. I can’t help rolling my eyes while I curse Cain out in my head. I don’t have time for his bullheaded nonsense.

Eventually, Oliver’s voice comes over the phone. “Are you in danger?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Another pensive moment of silence, and I swear I can hear Cain seething in the background. “Alright, we’ll look into it on our end. Find out whatever you can while you’re there.”

“I will,” I confirm, already having formed the same plan in my head.

“Red?” Cain’s rough growl catches me by surprise.

“Yeah?”

“Stay safe.”

Pressure builds behind my eyes—I don’t know why I’m suddenly feeling choked with emotion, but something about the way he said those two simple words strikes a chord with me. Cain’s not the type of person to offer fake reassurances or platitudes. If he didn’t care about me, he wouldn’t have spoken up.

Pushing back the tears in my eyes, I choke out, “I gotta go, Luc,” once again, ensuring eavesdropping Enzo can hear me. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yeah, Red. He’s in good hands,” Oliver assures me. “You just look after yourself.”

I lick my lips. Hesitating for a second and refusing to give what I’m about to say much thought, I blurt out, “I love you. I’ll be home soon,” and hang up the phone.

“All good?” Enzo asks, and I can hear him getting to his feet, the squeak of his polished shoes against the floor as he moves toward me.

With fast fingers, I delete the call history, and plastering on a fake smile, I spin around. “Yup.”

When he holds his hand out, I reluctantly hand over the phone, and pushing aside the tightness in my chest, I lift my chin, meeting Enzo’s gaze with a determined one of my own. “So, what now?”

“Now, we wait for Dante to get home and give us some answers.”

Chapter 19

“God, can you stop with the damn scratching?!” Enzo snarls, hours later. We’ve spent most of the afternoon on the sofas, pretending the other doesn’t exist. He’s been doing whatever it is he’s doing on his phone while I’ve been staring aimlessly at my surroundings, trying to make sense of everything. However, my wig is slowly driving me insane, and I’ve been scratching at it relentlessly for the last twenty minutes.Note to self, don’t buy cheap, crappy wigs in the future.“Just take the damn thing off. What does it matter?”

I throw him a scathing glare. “The last time Dante met therealme, he threatened to kill me if he ever saw me again.”

Enzo just rolls his eyes like I’m being dramatic. “I highly doubt he saved your ass just to kill you himself.”

I swallow back my scoff of disagreement. Even still, I mull over what he said. As the itch all over my scalp starts up again, my decision is easily made, and I whip off the wig, grumbling, “He probably won’t remember me, anyway.”

Enzo snorts, his focus still mostly on his phone. “Sure he won’t,” he mumbles, making me frown at him in confusion. I mean, Dante must threaten plenty of people on a daily basis, and it was eightlongyears ago. I was a scrawny-ass street kid back then. Not only have I grown up and filled out in all the right places, but I’m a completely different person. Even if Dante does recognize me, I’m no longer that scared, little street kid who had no idea what she was doing. I was forced to grow up. Since then, I’ve learned exactly what I’m capable of, the things I’ll do and the lengths I’ll go to, to look after those I love. But more than that, I built myself up to be someone I could be proud of. Someone who doesn’t take shit lying down and won’t let people walk all over her. Someone who can wield a knife like it’s an extension of her arm and slay scumbags like they are nothing but smoke. I may be a stripper, I may appear weak and defenseless, but my name is whispered on the streets of Black Creek with the same mix of fear and reverence as the Rejects, Grim Bastards, and Antonellis. I’m a wolf in sheep's clothing… don’t underestimate me, bitch.

“Why haven’tyoutold him who I am?” I ask. It’s a question that’s been bothering me for some time now but is especially pertinent given my current predicament. I tilt my head to the side, scrutinizing Enzo closely as I attempt to put the pieces together for myself. “I’m guessing you started following me after that night in the alley. To make sure I didn’t talk?” My brows scrunch together, and I chew on my bottom lip in thought. “But, after like a week, you should have realized I wasn’t going to. Why make contact with me? Whyhelpme? I don’t get it.”

I have so many questions, and none of it is adding up.

Sighing, Enzo pockets his phone and meets my troubled stare with an inscrutable expression. So much passes between us at that moment that I can’t pinpoint one individual thing, but whatever it is feels significant. Sadness, regret, adoration, and… love?… pass through his eyes. Each sentiment hits me like an emotional whip, making my heart constrict.

He swallows roughly, making his Adam’s apple bob, drawing my attention. “You should get rid of the contacts, too. He’ll want to see those eyes.”

The cryptic nature of his words snaps my focus back to his face, and my brows scrunch together in confusion. What the fuck does any of that mean? And why are these assholes so hellbent on avoiding my questions?

I’m still trying to figure out the meaning behind what he just said when he gets to his feet and strides out of the room. For a second, I debate following him, but why bother? I’ll only get more non-answers. Instead, I shake off the lingering effects of our moment and head toward the downstairs bathroom.

---