Four
FOUR
Molly
It was after midnight when Enzo finally parked.
“You need a parking space,” he said.
“Enzo, I don’t have a car. So no, I don’t need a parking space,” I said.
“But I do,” he responded.
He flashed me a quick smile and then got out and walked around the car and offered me his arm.
My pride told me not to take it.
I did anyway.
It felt good, too good, walking down the block on Enzo’s arm.
It felt natural too, when it should have been anything but.
I practically floated up my stairs, my keys clutched in one hand while Enzo held the other.
It took me a moment to realize how quiet the hallway was.
But it was quiet, too quiet…
The kind of quiet that made the hairs on my neck lift like antennae.
I glanced at Enzo and noticed that he was on alert.
Then I looked toward my apartment.
The door was ajar.
I stopped.
Blinked.
Then started to reach for the knob.
Enzo pulled me back.
“Wait here.”
He put himself in front of me and walked toward the door.
His body was like a shield, a force that would stand between me and anything that might try to hurt me.
He was almost overbearing in his presence, and for the first time, I didn’t resent it.
I appreciated it.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him, my mind whirling as I tried to comprehend what had happened.
The door was splintered.
It had been kicked in.
My pulse spiked, and I fumbled in the cute little handbag that was only big enough for my phone and a tube of lipstick I hadn’t even bothered to put on.
I pulled out the phone but realized I didn’t have anyone to call.
“What are you doing?” I said when Enzo took the phone out of my hand.
“Stay back, Molly,” he said.
I watched, still dumbfounded as he unlocked my phone and dialed a number.
“How do you know my unlock code?” I asked.
He chuckled, but a split second later was all business again.
“Meet me at Molly’s in fifteen. Bring muscle and a new door,” he said.
He hung up the phone without waiting for a response and then focused on the door.
I tried not to pay attention to the hand at his waistband, or think about what he might be capable of.
Instead I watched him as he moved—graceful, precise, terrifying.
He took one look at the door and pushed it open fully, scanning the interior with a narrowed gaze.
I stayed frozen, heart in my throat, while he stepped inside like he owned the place.
“Stay there,” he said over his shoulder.
His voice was flat.
Controlled.
The exact opposite of how I felt.
He disappeared inside, and seconds that felt like years ticked by.
When he emerged, his expression was dark, menacing.
It promised retribution.
Before I could think, I took a step back.
Enzo’s eyes flickered and his jaw ticked, but he didn’t say anything.
“It’s empty but the door’s busted and the lock is useless,” he said.
“Someone was inside my house,” I said stupidly.
Enzo’s expression softened.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“No. I won’t be forced out of my home,” I said with bravado I didn’t feel.
Sure, I may have sounded strong, but I sure as fuck didn’t feel strong.
To think that the excitement I’d felt just minutes ago had come to this.
Maybe I should thank whoever had broken in.
At least they’d kept me from doing something stupid like sleeping with Enzo.
I glanced at the door again and knew that was wrong.
I couldn’t help but think about that time in fourth grade when someone had broken into me and Gram’s apartment.
She’d been spitting mad.
It took me years to realize she’d been afraid, too, but that she’d put up a brave face for me.
The least I could do was live up to her example.
“Come on, doll,” Enzo said.
“I’m not leaving my home, Enzo.”
To emphasize my point, I walked inside, trying not to balk at the splintered door.
“Fine, hard ass. The guys will be over in a few minutes to fix the door,” he said.
“Tell them not to bother. It’s after midnight, and I don’t have money to replace the door. I’ll figure something out,” I said tightly.
“Molly,” Enzo said, his voice so soft, I couldn’t help but look at him.
When I met his eyes, he smiled.
“That wasn’t a question.”
“Enzo…” I started, but when I saw the set of his expression, I shook my head and muttered, “Fine.”
By the time Enzo’s men had replaced the door, it was almost two in the morning.
The apartment smelled like metal shavings and Enzo’s cologne—dark, citrusy, unnerving.
The essence of danger.
I dropped onto the couch, exhausted.
He stood near the window, arms crossed, watching the street like a hawk.
“You don’t have to stay,” I said.
“I know.”
“Enzo…”
He didn’t even look at me.
“I’m staying.”
I huffed.
“Don’t you have made-man stuff to do? Or women to chase?”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t take the bait.
“I already caught the only woman I was chasing.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue.
Too tired.
Too affected by his words.
He moved across the room and crouched by the door, examining the new lock.
His shirt rode up, exposing the hard lines of his back.
Scars slashed across his ribs like pale lightning.
My breath caught.
He didn’t see me watching, so he couldn’t see the way his body—coiled, powerful, lethal—was doing things to mine.
He turned.
Caught me staring.
Neither of us looked away.
He stood slowly.
“Lock’s solid now.”
“Thanks,” I whispered.
He was too close.
I was too weak.
Desire hung between us heavy and thick.
I was the first to look away.
“You hungry?” I asked, because my mouth had to do something.
He blinked, and the spell broke.
“Always.”
I walked to the kitchen and busied myself with a bag of frozen dumplings and the air fryer Hope had bought me last Christmas.
My hands shook, but I tried to ignore it.
He leaned in the doorway.
“You cook?”
“Barely.”
“But you’re cooking for me,” he said.
“I would hardly call this cooking,” I countered.
He smiled. “You trying to impress me, Molly?”
“If I were, you’d know it.”
His grin was slow.
Dangerous.
Promised things that scared me.
Things I wanted with all my heart.
We ate on the couch, legs stretched out, knees almost brushing.
He didn’t talk much, but his eyes never left me.
Eventually, I stood.
“I’m going to bed,” I announced.
“I’ll take the chair,” he said.
I tried not to feel disappointed.
Enzo was being a gentleman, something that, weirdly, didn’t surprise me.
Enzo gave me another soft smile.
“Don’t worry, doll, I’ve slept on worse.”
I returned his smile and then walked away.
I paused in the doorway of my bedroom, hand on the frame.
“Enzo,” I called.
“Yeah?” He looked at me.
“Thank you.”
His eyes softened just enough to make my chest tighten.
“Anytime, doll.”
I believed him, more than I had any right to.
More than I wanted to.
I didn’t sleep.
Not really.
At some point, I got up for water and found him curled in the chair, one arm over his chest, head tilted back.
The light from outside caught the side of his face, casting shadows over the sharp lines of his jaw.
His expression was peaceful.
He didn’t look like the scary capo with the big gun.
He looked younger.
Tired.
Human.
I padded over to him.
Close enough to hear the slow, even rhythm of his breathing.
He shifted slightly, lips parting like he was about to speak.
I flinched.
But he didn’t wake.
Just muttered something low.
A name, maybe. Or a prayer.
I didn’t know why I stayed and stared at him like a creep.
Maybe because it was the first time I’d seen him vulnerable.
Maybe it was the fact that he’d stayed.
Either way, I watched him until I could breathe again.
Then I went back to bed.
Realized that I’d felt safe enough not to check the door.
Realized that I hadn’t even thought of it.