Enforcer’s Obsession

Chapter 22

TWENTY-TWO

Nico

“I have never seen a waffle with any of that on it,” I said to Hope as we left the restaurant one afternoon.

I’d clearly hit on something with waffles; she loved them, and we’d become regulars here.

“That’s because you’ve never lived,” she said, a smile playing on her lips.

“If bacon, apples, and caramel drizzle is life…” I said, looking at her skeptically.

She smiled. “It is life. The epitome of life,” she said emphatically.

We set off down the block, Hope walking next to the buildings while I was closest to the street.

“And what explains this love for—how should I call it?—adventurous waffles?” I said.

She shrugged, though I saw a flash of pain in her expression. “Nothing really. My mom was a buttermilk waffle purist, but she always let me get all the fun toppings. She got a kick out of what I picked,” she said.

She’d said it was nothing, but I knew that wasn’t true. I knew that memory meant a lot to her, just as I knew the piece of shit she’d been raised with put a stop to it. Over the last couple of weeks, she’d mention things, just little random statements that she probably thought hadn’t added up to much but had made her past crystal clear.

Among them, the awareness that anything Hope or her mother might enjoy was forbidden by her stepfather.

Not a surprise that a petty little man who was less than nothing in real life would try to lord over a woman and child. I had taken a look at his record, limited as it was. A couple of drunk and disorderlies that I had no doubt were DV charges that had been pled down.

I knew the type.

A bully, one who would never confront a man, but had no problem being playing tyrant to those weaker than them.

Occasionally, men like that found their way into the Moretti family. They didn’t last long. Don Carlo was no bleeding heart, but he always said that men like what I knew Hope’s stepfather to be couldn’t be trusted, and he swiftly got rid of them.

“So anyway, one day you have to try out the bacon and maple. It’s the perfect gateway to?—”

Hope cut off abruptly, and I looked at her curiously, then followed her line of sight.

Saw the man approaching us.

A few inches shorter than me, so maybe six two, late fifties, though he wasn’t gray. He had a solid build with a little softness around the middle. But it was clear he took care of himself. And at first glance, he was just a standard, nondescript man who showed no hint of the monster inside.

Daniel McDonald. Hope’s stepfather, the man who had tormented her.

I looked at her, and she was frozen. She hadn’t been this terrified at Carlo’s that night, but when I looked at her now, her fear was palpable, seemed to keep her stuck in place.

Her stepfather didn’t seem bothered at all. He stopped about two feet in front of Hope, then smiled. Maybe my feelings for Hope were influencing me, but I was sure I’d never seen anyone look more evil.

“What? You don’t even have the decency to greet me after I raised you?” he said.

He was smiling at her, the smile big, taunting.

Hope didn’t say anything, didn’t move, didn’t blink.

She didn’t even seem to breathe.

The man smiled brighter, his disgust with her unmistakable.

“Still freezing like a roach when the lights come on. Like I wasn’t going to see you,” he said.

He dismissed her, then looked at me.

“Found some other sucker to take care of you? Do you have some bastards that you are going to try to pawn off on him to raise?” he said looking back at Hope.

Then he looked at me. “This one needs a firm hand,” he said, whispering conspiratorially.

That got Hope to move.

She flinched, the movement light, almost imperceptible. But I saw it, and it snapped the little control I had.

Before the piece of garbage could react, I pushed him into an alley and kneed him in the stomach so hard he doubled over.

When I let him go, his momentum sent him careening to the ground.

I paused just long enough to deliver a swift kick too his side, and then I was on him.

“You like to hurt people that can’t fight back?” I practically grunted, my voice probably unintelligible to him because of the rage-induced accent that was marring my words.

“Nothing to say?” I said as I hit him again, the satisfying rattle of his teeth after my fist made contact with his jaw only spurring me on.

“No. You only like to hit women and kids, isn’t that right?”

He grunted “Who?—”

I hit him again, three of his teeth flew out of his mouth and clattered down onto the sidewalk. The sight of his blood, the sound of his pain spurred me on.

“You think?—”

“Nico,” Hope whispered.

I froze, the sound of her voice pulling me out of my violence-fueled haze.

I never lost control like that, but in that moment, I had every intention of killing him. Except when I looked in her face and saw the fear and resolve in her eyes, I froze.

“I’d like to go home. I’m sure Champ needs to be let out by now,” she said.

Her words were stiff, but her meaning was clear. As was the pleading in her eyes.

“I’m sure Daniel has important business to attend to, and so do I. I wouldn’t want to waste another second with him when I could be cleaning up dog shit,” she said.

He grunted, and I glared down at him, the rage coming back. I fought to keep it at bay.

“You’re very fortunate that Hope has important business to attend to. But, let me give you a warning. Leave the city. Tonight. Don’t ever come back. If you do, it’ll be the last mistake you’ll ever make.”

I stood, adjusted my shirt, then offered my elbow to Hope.

“Where were we?” I asked as we stepped out of the alley.