My feet hurt so damn bad I wanted to cut them off and toss them into the dumpster. I trudged up the walk to my front door and let myself inside, the mail in my hands as I sorted through it and ultimately tossed the entire stack onto the kitchen counter. Fuck bills. I didnât want to think about how depressing it was that I made so damn little I was struggling in the city.
âMeow!â
Reaching down, I scooped Penelope up into my arms. He rubbed against my face, whiskers and fur going all over. I swiped the mess off of my skin, spitting it out of my mouth and groaning.
âYes, thank you, Penelope. Thank you.â I carried him into the living room, which was really just an extension of the kitchen, and froze. âWhat the fuck?â
When I left in the morning, my dirty apartment had been put on the list as something I needed to deal with when I returned. There were clothes strewn all over the floor, trash everywhere, and something that smelled suspicious somewhere in the kitchen, but I hadnât been able to find it in the three minutes I had before snagging my coffee tumbler and bolting from the door. Now? It was pristine, like the day Iâd moved in. But better.
The smell of bleach burned my nostrils as I walked through my apartment, and I crinkled my nose. Dropping Penelope off on the couch, I ducked my head into the bathroom and found the source of the offensive aroma. My bathroom was probably cleaner than it had ever been. I stormed into my bedroom next, anger and fear coursing down my spine in equal measure.
âWhat the fuck?â
There, on my pillow, laid neatly as if I was in a hotel room, was a note. I snatched it up and stared at the bold, straight lettering.
My stomach lurched. I reached out, my hand grabbing for something to stabilize myself with. Instead, it flew into the dresser, knocking off a plethora of old memories to the floor below. I sucked in a deep breath as the truth dawned on me.
Enzo had been inside my home.
A crazy, murderous, blood-thirsty mobster had been in my goddamn The fear was quickly replaced as fire coursed through my veins. I snatched up my laptop and typed on it, logging into the program connected to the cameras Iâd installed.
Clicking through a few times, I finally stopped when I saw him walking into my place. Penelope hopped up beside me, purring and brushing against me with his long, fluffy tail until I gathered him into my lap and glared at the screen. A familiar scent tugged at my brain, but I brushed it away as I watched him.
Heâd been all through my apartment, cleaning, straightening, and moving stuff around like a damn psychopath! The camera feed cut in and out. It hadnât even alerted me that heâd been inside! My grip on Penelope tightened, and I ground my teeth as I watched him pick up my cat and disappear into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, he came out with Penelope wrapped in a towel, drying him off. I stabbed my finger onto the space bar and shoved that same finger against my eyelid.
I was going to Enzo Vitale. The bastard had been invisible for almost a week. In all that time, Iâd glanced over my shoulder and worried that I would run into him. Every tall, dark-haired man that eclipsed my vision made me think it was him back to fuck with me, but it was never him. So, why the hell did he suddenly pop up now?
I looked Penelope over, my stomach still twisted into knots. He could have hurt him. Okay, Enzo hadnât done anything to my cat, but he have. And even if he didnât, he had violated my space without a second thought. And for what? To clean?
I kissed Penelopeâs head and shoved a hand into my pocket, searching for my phone. As soon as I had it, I stabbed the contact name of my old friend and waited for her to pick up.
âYo, Texas! How the hell are you?â
I grimaced. âNo one calls me that but you,â I muttered.
âYeah, I know. It still gets under your skin, doesnât it?â She chuckled, and I heard the familiar sound of her fingers flying over the keys. âWhatâs up?â
I pinched the bridge of my nose. âYou still doing security?â
âYou bet your sweet, plump ass,â she said. âWhy?â
âI need someone to install a security system in my apartment. Iâm renting, so I donât need a bunch of wires and shit, and my landlord canât know about it. Think you can do it?â
âPiece of cake,â she purred. âWhen do you need it by?â
âTomorrow?â
Chelsea choked, and I imagined it was on one of those energy drinks she liked to chug. âTomorrow? Thatâs short notice. You know itâll cost you, right?â
âI thought we were friends?â
âMy friends call me more often,â she said. âAnd do shit with me. This sounds more like a client needing a last-minute job. Itâll cost you,â she repeated.
âHow much?â
âFifteen hundred.â
âShit,â I swore. âWhy is it so much?â
âBecause my shit is good, and Iâm better,â she said. I could hear her smug grin. âAnd I know you, Tex. You donât want that cheap internet crap you slap up on a wall and only half-records when it wants to.â
âYouâre right, youâre right,â I searched my brain, trying to figure out if I even had that much money to spend. âWhat if we go out? Grab something to drink? Do you think you could shave offâ¦five hundred bucks?â
She was quiet for a minute. âI could use a wingman. Meet me at 7th Circle in an hour?â
âBlu,â I said quickly. âLetâs go there.â
âBet, Blu it is. See you in an hour.â
We hung up, and I turned back to the laptop. Enzo had been on a mission, looking over my stuff and then getting to work like he lived here. I hadnât seen him in days, but at that moment I could swear I still smelled his cologne.
I stood at the bar as music pulsed around me. My heart was throbbing a little too hard, pounding in my ears and drowning the music out.
There were a thousand clubs in New York, but Iâd picked the one that housed Enzo Vitale.
âTex! Over here!â
I cringed as she shouted my name. My head whipped around as I tried to see if anyone was looking at me, but everyone was in their own worlds. I glanced back at Chelsea. Her dark purple hair was up in two round puff balls on either side of her head. Even in the dark, her piercings glowed a neon green. Weâd had matching piercings at some point, but Iâd taken mine out before I joined the academy. I missed them.
âThere you are.â She grinned at me. âHey, can I get a Sidecar over here!â she bellowed toward the cute blonde behind the counter. âAnd an uhâ¦â
âBeer,â I supplied. âWhatever youâve got in a bottle. Surprise me.â
The woman pulled a face as if Iâd just asked her to spit on me. I didnât give a damn. I didnât need a fancy drink right now. What I needed was something to take the edge off and was within my budget. If there was one thing I knew about Chelsea, it was that she was going to make this hurt. At least Iâd get a great security system for a steal.
We took our drinks and moved away from the bar. Not that there was much room to move. We slid through the crowd together until we were in an area with a little more space. Chelsea sipped on her Sidecar, a smile on her face as she adjusted her dark red dress and pushed a springy curl of hair out of her face.
âYou look good,â I said.
Chelsea lit up and shoved dainty fingers against my chest. âAwww, thanks, Texas. Itâs been a while since Iâve gone out. I wasnât even sure if any of this.â She gestured to herself. âWorked.â
I grinned. âHave you seen you? Trust me, itâs working.â
Her bright, beaming grin made me feel better about the bullshit I was currently dealing with. Chelsea had always been able to drag a smile out of me. Weâd grown up together since middle school. And while I had chosen law enforcement, Chelsea stuck to what she knew; technology, security, and selling information to the right people for the right amount of money.
She was a badass. I admired her.
âWhat do you think about the blonde?â she asked, nodding toward the woman behind the bar. âShort hair, nice build. I bet she has a hell of a grip.â
I groaned. âTo choke you?â
âJust a little!â she said. âCome on, look at her.â She stared at her prey, a dark gleam in her eye. âI bet sheâs got a twisted side.â
Laughter rumbled out of my chest, and for the first time tonight, I felt like I wasnât going completely insane. âThereâs something wrong with you.â I pointed out to her. âSeriously wrong.â
âDonât act like youâre not into some messed up shit,â she said, grinning at me. âI was there for your high school whore days.â
My face flushed, and I rubbed the back of my neck while she cackled. She wasnât wrong. Back then, I was all about falling into whatever bed was the closest. Men, women, folks in between and outside of those classifications altogether, they were all ripe for the fucking. Iâd slowed down since I entered the academy. Things were hard enough trying to work without mixing in messy entanglements.
âYou talk about me like youâre not just as bad,â I pointed out.
She grinned. âI never said that. Being whores is one of many reasons we get along so well.â Chelsea elbowed me fondly. âI missed you.â
âI missed you too. Sorry my headâs been up my ass.â
âNo big deal. I know youâve had a lot of stuff on your plate.â She shrugged. âWe both have.â
I pulled her into a hug and forgot about the weight on my shoulders. She wrapped warm arms around me, and I wanted to stay just like that, feeling comfort for the first time in years. When we pulled away, she tilted her head at me, reached up, and swiped at my eyes.
âAre you okay?â Chelsea whispered. âYouâreâ¦crying.â
I quickly dragged my arm over my eyes and made the tears disappear.
Tilting up my beer, I drained the rest of it. Maybe this was why I didnât hang out with my friends anymore. They made me vulnerable where Iâd built a wall around myself to protect me from all the crap in my life.
âLong day,â I answered shortly. âNow, what about the bartender? How do you want to do this?â
Chelsea searched my face, and I saw the way her eyebrows drew together. The concern on her face made me shift from one foot to the other. I prayed she would let it die. Something must have made her come to the conclusion to let it go because she didnât press me.
âI want to talk to her, but sheâs working.â She frowned. âDo you think itâll be enough if I stare at her all night and wait until she gets off?â
I groaned. âYou canât pick someone else to go after? Thereâs a ton of other women here.â
âYeah, but Iâm already staring at her.â
I grinned and shook my head. âFine, weâll wait around. Okay?â
Chelsea lit up, her big eyes sweeping to the bar and back. She glanced up, and then her eyes settled on me. âUm, I think someoneâs staring at you.â
âMe?â I asked. âNo thanks, Iâm not into it.â
She nudged me. âHeâs still staring.â
I turned around to see what she was going on about and froze. Standing above me was Enzo Vitale. The look on his face wasnât the calm, collected expression Iâd seen last time. It looked like he was getting ready to burst a blood vessel. Our eyes locked, and he didnât glance away even for a second.
Something inside of me stirred.
âLetâs get out of here, Chel,â I said as I turned back to her. âWeâll come around another night. Hopefully, it wonât be as busy, and you can talk to the bartender.â
She sighed. âYeah, youâre right. Itâs crowded as shit in here.â Her gaze flickered up to Enzo and back to me. âSure you donât need to take care of that?â
I grinned. âI thought Iâd want to, but you know what? Itâs better to leave it where it is.â I draped an arm around her shoulders. âLetâs go to a little hole in a wall somewhere and get fucked up. Tomorrowâs my day off.â
She rolled her eyes. âYou just want free work.â
âAm I that obvious?â
âHell yes!â She frowned. âBut I use another drink.â
âAtta girl,â I said. âLetâs get out of here.â
We moved through the heavy crowd together while the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Even without turning around, I knew Enzo was staring me down. Everything in me screamed to glance over my shoulder, to take one last look, but I forced myself to keep moving.
I needed to get that security system installed. And then I needed to take Enzo apart piece by fucking piece.