Enforcer’s Obsession

Chapter 19

NINETEEN

Nico

“Put your shoes on,” I said to Hope one morning.

“Should I ask why?” she said.

She was standing in the kitchen, but moved into the living room where I was, looking at me warily.

“No, you should put your shoes on,” I said.

Her eyes flashed, but she said nothing, and instead complied.

But I hadn’t missed the flash of fear in her eyes. She was still wary of me, but her spirit, that essential part of her that had allowed her to survive, took charge.

She slipped her feet into the leather flats that she tried to pretend she didn’t love, then stood and adjusted her jeans. She still refused to wear the nicer clothes I had gotten, but it didn’t make a difference.

She was a vision in everything—and nothing—so I didn’t push the point.

She flashed me a quick smile, and I looked away, refocusing on something else. My reaction to her had changed, deepened, and despite my best efforts, I felt a connection.

Told myself it was just me being protective.

After all, she was in this predicament because of me, and thus my responsibility.

That was it.

Because whatever else I might want it to be, there was no room in my life for feelings.

No room for love.

No room for Hope.

I knew where that road led, and I refused to go down it again.

“Wait a second,” Hope said, pausing in front of the sofa.

“What?”

“We aren’t going to…” She swallowed, looked away nervously, then looked at me again.

“Going to what?” I asked.

“Going to get married,” she said.

Her voice was almost inaudible over the last word, yet another clue as to how she felt about the marriage.

The need to reassure her was intense, and I shook my head. “No.”

I wasn’t sure whether to be offended or angry at how relieved she looked as she started to approach me again.

Truth was, it pissed me off, every instinct inside of me wanting to claim her for myself.

But I kept that in check.

And what I didn’t tell her I had been rethinking the marriage altogether.

Being close to me made her a target, and marriage was one way to protect her.

But I had resources, contacts, and with those, I could set her up somewhere else, give her the chance to live the life she deserved.

One that didn’t include me.

I looked at her as she got into the car, no longer nervous, looking almost comfortable.

I sure as fuck felt that way, but it didn’t matter.

Hope was a good person.

She deserved the world.

Deserved much more than an old, nearly washed-up gangster could give her. And who knew? Maybe taking care of her, seeing that she had the opportunities she deserved would be a market in my favor, a sign of good character in a life that had so few of those.

After the garage door opened, I accelerated, the way the car jerked making me realize that I pressed the gas harder than I intended.

Told myself it was just momentary inattention, not my reaction to the empty, bereft feeling that crept over me like the arctic cold at the thought of Hope being gone from my life.

It didn’t matter. I’d been alone before, could be alone again.

But while she was here, I would enjoy it.

Enjoy her.

And pretend, at least for a little while, that I was a man worthy of her.

“You’re not trying to get hints?” I asked as I guided the car toward the interstate.

“I know where that’s going to get me, and where it’s not, so I’ll just enjoy the fresh air,” she said.

But as she spoke, there was a soft smile on her face, the sun against her hair and brown skin giving her an almost angelic look. I moved my eyes away quickly, trying to ignore the way my heart squeezed at seeing her.

A quick fifteen-minute drive, and I pulled off the interstate and guided us to a neighborhood.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever been this far outside the city,” she said.

“Well, hopefully you like it,” I responded.

“I’m sure I will. I love open spaces,” she said.

“I’m not sure if this will qualify, but maybe you’ll like it,” I said.

She looked at me, her mouth lifted in a smile and then she shifted her eyes to look out of the window.

We moved through a neighborhood with large lots and larger houses, punctuated by older ones that hadn’t yet been taken over and turned into mini-mansions.

Still, this area had a bit more personality than others. And, most importantly, it had something that I thought—and hoped—would put a smile on Hope’s face.

She watched as I turned down one long street, her eyes widening at the sight.

“I’m glad I found this place,” I said.

“We’re at park?” she said, her mouth opening and closing as she looked at me and then out of the window again.

“So it seems,” I responded as I parked. When the car stopped, I turned to her. “Get out.”

I exited the car, then circled it to open Hope’s door.

“This way,” I said.

“A dog park!” she said as we crossed the parking lot.

“Yeah,” I responded.

She practically beamed. “I love dogs,” she said.

“I know,” I responded.

“Did I mention that?” she asked, looking at me, her cheeks lifted with her smile, her eyes bright.

“Not in so many words, but your job was probably a hint.”

“Yeah, but you’d be surprised by how many people do my job even though they don’t necessarily care for animals,” she said.

“No, that wouldn’t surprise me at all, but I know you’re not one of those.

“Enzo!” I yelled, turning away from Hope in search of my cousin.

He turned, looking like an alien with black slacks and a black button-down shirt in the middle of a dog part.

“Where did you think you we’re going?” I asked, looking him up and down as he approached.

“Fuck off, Nico. I’m here for you,” he said. Then he looked at Hope and nodded an acknowledgement. “Cousin.”

She wrinkled her brow, but then spotted something behind my cousin.

It was a dog, hobbling toward us.

“Is that…?”

She looked at me, then looked at the little dog, which was still hobbling toward her.

She approached the dog cautiously, but I could see the excitement in her eyes.

“Champ?” she said, looking down at the dog.

The dog let out a little bark, and then started moving faster, its one misformed front paw slowing its progress.

“If you don’t mind,” my cousin said, lifting his hands in a plea.

“’Bye,” I said, waving him off, though I barely paid him any attention. Instead I watched Hope as she stopped in front of the dog, then kneeled down, her jean hugging her ass perfectly.

“Champ! How did you get here?” she said.

She stuck out her hand, and the dog sniffed it, though I knew it was just a formality. Champ’s tail was wagging vigorously, his sandy-brown ears perked up with excitement.

“How did you get here buddy?” Hope said, petting the dog.

“I see you found an old friend,” I said, kneeling down next to her.

“What is this?” she asked, still smiling, though her brows were knitted with confusion.

“Well, given the circumstances, I thought you might enjoy having a friendly face around,” I said.

True, though not completely.

I did have an almost obsessive need to see her happy, and given what I knew of her, having this dog would do that.

I also just…wanted to do something nice for her, do something that would have her see me as more than a murderer.

“How did you find him?” she asked, stroking her hand up and down the dog’s back.

“You have a picture of him in your apartment,” I responded.

“Apartment” was a generous way to describe the studio she lived in.

Whatever she called it, it wasn’t fit for her, and no matter what, I would see that she never slept there another night.

“The one on my refrigerator?” she said.

“Yeah, the only picture on display in your apartment as a matter of fact,” I said.

I remembered the way that picture had drawn me, Hope, dressed in blue scrubs with a neon safety vest over her chest, holding a tiny, filthy dog.

The compassion in her face was unlike anything I had ever seen.

“What is this, Nico?” she said.

She was still petting the dog, but looking at me, her expression serious.

“A gift, Hope. Nothing more,” I said.

Her brows furrowed deeper. “I can’t… Nico, I…”

“You can. And any way, it’s too late. I’ve adopted him, and you certainly wouldn’t leave him in my care,” I said.

She looked so excited, so hopeful that it took my breath away.

“But I don’t have anywhere to?—”

“Hope, I’ll see that Champ is taken care of,” I said.

I’d see that she was taken care of too, but I didn’t say that out loud.

She would reject it, so I didn’t waste the words.

“I gotta say,” I said, watching her as she tossed a rope bone at the dog, who tried to wrestle it away, “he’s not the prettiest dog I’ve ever seen.”

Her reaction was instant. “I will not hear such blasphemy! He’s the most beautiful dog ever, and he has the heart of a champion.”

“Ahh, that explains the name,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said, sitting back on her heels as she continued to roughhouse with the dog. “You wouldn’t believe the shape he was in when the shelter first got him. His front paw is a birth defect, but I don’t know what happened to his eye. He was skin and bones, missing big tufts of fur, but when they brought him in, he barked at me, and I fell in love,” she said.

She smiled down at the dog, and I could see that affection now.

“Why?” I asked, though I knew it was a stupid question.

Still, I need something to distract myself, fill the space of the thoughts that I couldn’t afford to have.

“Why not? He’s worth as much as the most beautiful purebred dog. And he deserves to have someone to look after him.” She petted the dog lovingly.

“Good thing he found you,” I said.

“I was always terrified that someone was going to adopt him,” she said.

I looked at the dog, then smiled. “I don’t think you need to be concerned about that.”

“No, I guess not, but I made a deal to look after him as long as I worked there,” she said.

“Yes, according to Enzo, the shelter was very reluctant to adopt him out,” I said.

“Good,” she said.

“I don’t know how you can still care so much about those people,” I said with disgust because Hope might love the shelter, but they hadn’t stuck by her.

“What do you mean?” she asked, looking at me again, as she kept petting the dog.

“You missed a couple of days, and they put you on a leave of absence. That doesn’t seem very considerate,” I said.

I still remember how heartbroken she had looked when I showed her the text from her supervisor, telling her that she’d have to go on leave, and then after two months, they would terminate her if she wasn’t ready to work.

“So, you never had a job I take it,” she said.

“I’ve worked all my life,” I countered.

“No, you’ve been a criminal all your life. That’s nothing compared to the corporate world. That they even bothered to text me is shocking. And I know the people I worked with care. At the same time, they need hands, and if I’m not coming back, I can’t expect them to hold a place for me forever,” she said nonchalantly, like it was nothing.

I chose not to press the issue, but smiled at the little dog.

“Did you have one when you were growing up?”

She let out a little huff.

“Heck no,” she said. What about you?”

I expected the reference to her childhood to be more meaningful, but if it was, she was doing a good job of hiding it, and I decided to play along.

“Yes. His name, if you can believe it, was Skipper,” I said.

She laughed. “You named your dog Skipper? I would have thought Maximus or something like that.”

I shrugged. “I was nine when we got him.” I trailed off and then sighed. “I loved that dog.”

And I had. Skipper had been my best friend, my constant companion, and I’d told him all of my secrets. He’d been free to roam, so he hadn’t been inside of the house when the fire broke out.

I could remember him running to me after my uncle pulled me out of the house. He hadn’t left my side, and in those horrible, dark days after I lost my family, Skipper had been the one I’d cried to.

“You don’t strike me as a dog person,” Hope said.

“Well, good to know that I’m still capable of surprising you. I always planned to get another dog after Skipper died, but,” I shrugged, “life.”

She nodded her understanding. “Yeah. I couldn’t afford a pet deposit even if I wanted to take Champ home, and plus, life in that little apartment wouldn’t have been good for him.”

I stood, then grabbed Champ’s rope bone and tossed it.

The dog took off, and Hope looked at me.

“Looks like we got an escapee,” I said, breaking her gaze.

“Oh!”

She took off behind the dog. “Champ! Champ!”

My phone buzzed, and I looked down and saw a message from the boss.

Nothing of substance, just a single word.

Call.

I would heed his order.

Later, I decided.

I shoved my phone back in my pocket and froze when I looked up and saw that Hope was nowhere in sight.