Enforcer’s Obsession

Chapter 1

ONE

Hope

Are you sure this is the right place?

I forced myself to relax my white-knuckle grip on my cell phone and watched the three gray dots bounce as my best friend, Molly, typed her reply.

The seconds ticked by, each one longer than the last as my nerves creeped higher. I hated being in unfamiliar places. I closed my eyes and wondered if I should give up and go home.

No, I can’t.

My best friend needed me and I refused to let her down. Not when she’d called me so upset.

When my phone vibrated, naive hope made my eyes fly open, only for it to disappear like a sinking stone as I read her message.

Yeah! I’m at the back.

My disappointment was almost palpable.

I’d been sure Molly couldn’t have meant here.

I’d walked by it twice, certain it was the wrong place.

For one thing, this wasn’t her normal scene.

It definitely wasn’t mine.

I’ve never been to this area—not that I was big on exploring the city we lived in regardless. The street was a bit busy with people off work for the day, some of them giving me annoyed looks as my frozen feet forced them to walk around me.

The building in front of me wasn’t exactly shabby, and in fact, it looked better than other businesses on the street.

It was a two-story red brick building with older architectural style that matched the rest of the area. Unlike the other businesses, which were a mix of small Mom and Pop establishments, this place had mirrored tint on the windows making it impossible to see inside.

An understated sign above the solid wooden door spelled out Carlo’s in shiny gold letters on a black plaque. Underneath the name was something in what I guessed was Italian but I didn’t recognize any of the words.

Maybe to someone else, a place like this wouldn’t be a blip on their radar.

But for me?—

I let my eyes close again, wishing I was the type of person to bail on a friend.

The door swung open and two men, tall and intimidating—not that it took much to intimidate me—spilled out. I hastily stepped out of their way, and they didn’t seem to notice me to my relief. They were pulling on thick coats over their suits, though, and I grimaced at my own clothes.

I’d come from work in my scrubs. It wasn’t like I expected to have plans that night.

In the few seconds the door was open, I was overwhelmed with loud voices and the familiar and stomach-churning scent of cigars, all carried out in a gust of warm air that reminded me I’d left my jacket at work.

“Going in?”

I jumped, looking wide-eyed at the man who’d walked up without me realizing it. He was older, a few inches taller than my own five foot six, stocky, and maybe someone else would have thought of his half smile and patient eyes as friendly.

I just wanted to turn on my heels and run.

Instead, I gave him a brittle, rigid smile that definitely came off more like a grimace and a sharp nod as he went to open the door.

He held it open for me.

I wanted to believe that courage carried me through, but I hadn’t felt brave in years. I stepped out of the way as he followed in behind me with a murmured thanks, and stared like a dummy as I took the unfamiliar place in. My stomach gnawed at my spine, telling me the ringing of the door’s little bell was a death toll for my fate.

It felt like everyone’s eyes were on me, even though I knew that wasn’t entirely true. Forcing air into my tight lungs, I focused on the room in front of me, cataloging every detail. It was warm and lively, with most of the tables and booths taken up. The bar was done up in dark woods and matching chairs. Polished gold-colored light fixtures offered enough light to create a relaxed atmosphere, and despite the place being a bar, it didn’t smell like one.

The acrid but floral smell of cigar smoke was prevalent, and the memories made my gut clench.

I reminded myself that he was not here and this was not my childhood kitchen.

“Hope! Back here!”

The moment felt like slow motion, my friend’s shrill greeting piercing the boisterous noise in the room, making everyone’s attention split between us.

I hunched my shoulders, and shuffled between the tables toward my friend in the back. I kept my eyes glued to the floor as I walked, and didn’t see a single scratch, scuff, or mark.

Yet another indication that I should have been anywhere but here.

Off-brand clogs that had seen better days, jeans that were almost but not quite threadbare and sporting stains I’d never be able to get rid of, a turtleneck, a pale blue scrub shirt, and my honey-brown braids pulled up in a messy bun.

Except for the braids, which were fresh—and had color due to Molly’s insistence—I looked every bit the dog groomer and aspiring vet tech that I was.

As I walked toward Molly’s voice, I glanced out of the corner of my eye, relieved that people had seemed to lose interest and were no longer gawking at me.

That moment’s relief freed me to look around at the other patrons.

Most of the men were dressed in suits, some with jackets buttoned, others down to their undershirts. The women were equally well dressed with full makeup, clearly wearing clothes worth more than my entire wardrobe.

With each second that passed, I felt more conspicuous and more out of place.

At least until Molly stood up and hugged me.

The embrace was quick, but it grounded me.

I was grounded further when I looked up into Molly’s smiling face.

“I thought you were going to be the second person to ditch me today,” she said, her friendly brown eyes sparkling, a bright smile on her face.

I couldn’t help but smile back.

It had been that way with Molly since I had met her four years ago at the animal shelter.

It was my first day there, and I had been so nervous I couldn’t stop fidgeting. It had been Molly’s first day, too, but she’d been my opposite. She smiled at me conspiratorially, and then leaned over to whisper in my ear.

“Don’t worry,” she’d said, “we’re going to do fine.”

And when she’d smiled at me, she’d looked so sure of herself, I couldn’t help but smile back.

At that moment, our friendship had been born.

“I, for one, would never ditch you,” I said, my voice soft, barely audible, though Molly didn’t seem to have any trouble hearing me over the din of the bar.

“That’s because you’re a genius, and that asshole boyfriend of mine—correction ex-boyfriend—is a moron,” she said.

She giggled, then gestured at the small table next to her where her red pleather handbag stood on a round table.

“You look amazing,” I said as I sat down.

And she did.

She definitely fit in here.

Her ankle-length skirt draped her long legs perfectly, and she wore a crop top that highlighted what she called her “exquisite rack.” Molly being Molly, gave no care that the shirt also exposed her soft stomach and the smattering of stretch marks on her brown skin.

I couldn’t help but compare myself, though I knew I would come up lacking.

Molly was a couple inches taller than me and a little heavier, but she was radiant and reminded me of how much of a mousy pudge I was, not that she’d ever agree with me.

I shivered at the thought, those words reminding me of the person who’d first called me that.

I hated him, but even still, couldn’t deny the truth of his words.

I was a mousy pudge, but I’d started to learn to appreciate myself.

Molly’s laugh pulled me out of my thoughts. “I do look good, don’t I? That’s why I decided to come here instead of going home. Like, I can’t waste all this,” she said, gesturing at herself and then laughing.

“I know you wouldn’t dream of it,” I said with a laugh.

“I got you a drink,” she said.

I eyed the open bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, the water clinging to the sides glinting in the light, and the two filled flutes.

“Molly.” I tilted my head in warning. My best friend was nothing if not a bad influence.

She tsked. “The champagne is for me. You have fizzy water, dork,” she said.

I smiled, and then she gestured toward the drink. I picked it up, and she did the same.

“What are we toasting to?” I asked.

“To dicks,” she said.

I gawked at her, but she nodded, her bangs flopping against her forehead as if to emphasize her point. The ends were dyed the same color as my braids and looked gorgeous.

“That’s right. To dicks. Out with the old and in with the new,” she said.

I giggled, then clinked my glass with hers, starting to relax.

“How did you find this place again?” I asked, looking around, though I was careful not to meet anyone’s eyes.

“It found me,” Molly said.

She refilled her champagne and took a big gulp before she continued.

“I was so pissed when I got a text to cancel after he specifically made the plans. A text? Not even a phone call!” She huffed, her eyes sharp with annoyance, though I knew it wouldn’t last. “Anyway, I was so distracted, I took a wrong turn, and found this awesome-looking place,” she said, gesturing around.

“So you just saw it and came in?” My eyes were wide as I looked at her, unable to believe someone could be so bold. Knowing Molly, though, it shouldn’t have surprised me.

She gave me an indulgent smile, and then nodded.

“Yes, Hope. I saw a place that looked interesting and decided to check it out. You know be adventurous. Live a little. Not just go to work, go to school, go home, and do it all over again.”

“Like me, is what you’re saying?”

“Yes,” she replied, taking another gulp of the champagne.

“But it’s so…”

I quickly scanned the place again, looking at the billows of cigar smoke, the pretty women, dangerous-looking men, and… me .

“I know,” Molly said. “But it is interesting. I mean beats going to Chili’s again, right?”

“I will hear no Chili’s slander in my presence,” I said.

Molly smiled, and I took another sip of my fizzy water.

“You know,” she said, “it’s your fault I even wasted my time with that jerk in the first place.”

“Mine?” I asked, looking at her with my brows furrowed.

“Yeah. If you had come out with me to the club that night, I wouldn’t have met him.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t respond.

Besides, what could I say?

If I wasn’t at the animal shelter, I preferred to stay home.

Even though hard experience had taught me home could be the least safe place in the world, now that I was out on my own, I was always more comfortable in my own place.

Being in a new environment like this had me grinding my teeth and my pits sweating.

I was practically a hermit, and though I hated to admit it, the thought of going out to a club with my best friend was one of the most terrifying things I could think of.

Or rather, one of the most terrifying things I allowed myself to think of.

Besides, I knew what was out there, just as I knew I wanted no part of it.

Which was why being in this place made me so uncomfortable.

I shifted in my seat, noticing that the chair was sturdy and the table clean.

I reevaluated my first impression of the place. The outside hadn’t looked too special, but the inside screamed class. The tables and chairs were expensive, and, I noticed, none of the upholstery had holes, rips, or stains.

There was a low hum of music I didn’t recognize, and the air was cloudy withcigar smoke, but not the cheap kind that my stepfather liked.

This smoke smelled of sweet cedar wood and leather. They definitely didn’t sell these cigars at convenience stores. But the quality didn’t make me hate the smell less.

“Well, it is out of the ordinary,” I said.

Molly nodded. “It is, and it’s the perfect place to live my life motto,” she said.

I laughed, and said, “How could I ever forget Molly’s Iron Law of Life, which is, and I quote, ‘the best way to get over one guy is to get under another.’”

She laughed, then took another drink. “Exactly. There’s hope for you yet. No pun intended,” she said after she swallowed another gulp of champagne.

“Well, I don’t think you’re going to find anyone here,” I said, daring to let my gaze drift around the room again.

Stopped dead when my eyes connected with dark orbs that were studying me.

I swallowed nervously, but then froze, wanting to look away, but finding myself unable to.

Every instinct I had screamed danger.

I knew what it was to be prey, and when I looked at him, I felt like a rabbit trapped in the sights of a starving wolf.

He was definitely that.

Appealing, attractive, but undoubtedly a predator.

I let out an audible sigh when he finally broke our gaze to look at his companion.

But even though he wasn’t looking at me, I could sense his attention. Felt like he was keeping tabs on me.

Which I understood.

I was out of place here, and not just because of my clothes.

Still, his attention was…unsettling.

I put a lot of effort into making myself invisible, but I wasn’t invisible to him, and it fucking terrified me.

I dared another glance, barely letting myself linger for a millisecond.

He wasn’t looking at me, but I still had his attention. He was probably trying to figure out what I was doing here.

Or maybe he already sized me up.

Marked me as a victim.

Classified me as someone weak.

After all, that was what men like him did.

I knew that, just as much as I knew my name.

But I wasn’t weak.

I wasn’t a victim.

Not anymore.

Still, if I had my way, none of that would matter, because Molly and I were going to be out of here soon, and I—for sure—would never be back.

But first things first…

“God, Hope, how could I be so stupid?” she said with a huge sigh.

“You weren’t stupid, Molly,” I replied, patting her shoulder.

I kept my gaze focused on Molly as I fought the urge to look for the man again.

It was ridiculous, and I was here for Molly and nothing else.

My friend gave me a watery smile. “That’s nice of you to say, Hope. But let’s face it: I’m a grade-A dummy. I mean, you never would have fallen for Zander’s lies.”

“Molly, you’re not a dummy. Zander is just a great liar, and that’s his fault, not yours,” I said.

She shook her head. “I guess, but I need to take a page from your book.”

I tilted my head as I looked at her. “How so?”

“You have what my grandma called discernment. I need some of that,” she said.

I smiled indulgently.

Molly thought I had discernment, but she was wrong. I knew almost nothing about men, and what I did know made me reluctant to find out more. Single was definitely the way for me. I mean if a dipshit like Zander could hurt Molly so badly, what could the type of man who came to a place like this do?

I didn’t know, and I had no intentions of finding out.

Molly was toying with her glass, collecting condensation on her fingertips. “Are you finished with your drink?” I asked.

It was time to make our exit.

My friend giggled. “Yeah, I guess I had a few too many,” she said.

“How many did you have?”

She shrugged, a soft, hazy I smile on her face. “Three, but you know I’m a one drink only kind of girl,” she said.

It was true.

She was one of the most warm, bubbly people I had ever met, and she didn’t need alcohol to fuel that.

“Well, I guess your headache in the morning will be your payment for the indulgence,” I said.

She shrugged, the smile still on her face.

“Yeah, but it was worth it. And at least there’s eye candy,” she said, her gaze drifting in the direction of the booth in the back where the man sat.

But she wasn’t looking at him. I followed her gaze over my shoulder.

Instead, she was smiling dreamily at the man sitting next to him, one with equally dark hair and the beginnings of a beard.

Every time my gaze had strayed back to that dangerous stranger, his companion hadn’t even glanced in my direction.

But I wasn’t fooled.

My instincts told me that both men knew exactly who and what was around them. So there was no doubt that both men had seen Molly and I, and probably dismissed us as not a threat.

That knowledge didn’t make me feel at ease.

In fact, I knew the nerves that were on a low simmer would only recede when I was back at my apartment with the chain slid across the door. Back when I was a little girl still innocent enough to dream, I’d never imagined I’d be a twenty-three-year-old almost too terrified to go dancing with her best friend.

One who felt more comfortable alone behind a locked door than with people.

Yet that was where I now found myself, and I didn’t bother to pretend that I couldn’t wait to get out of here.

But first I would make sure Molly got home.

“Well, why don’t we go?” I said.

I stood, and Molly did the same.

I grabbed her around the waist when she stumbled, only barely managing to keep my balance. Molly was at least a half a foot taller than me and, as she liked to say, with enough breasts and thighs it would be a shame not to share.

“I was going to say that I could get home fine, but that would probably be a lie,” she said with a quick giggle that made her shoulders shake.

I shook my head, smiling at her. “It would be, and besides, you have to let me take you home so I can read the nasty text you wrote to?—”

I stopped before I finished, the sound of the bell ringing as the door opened cutting off my words.

But the bell wasn’t what shocked me into silence.

Two men had walked in. “Are those?—”

Whatever Molly had been about to say was silenced by a pop .

She jerked against me and I turned.

I watched in horror as she was thrown to the ground.

Before I could fully process what I was seeing, I felt myself falling, falling, falling, and belatedly braced for impact with those lovely wood floors.

Impact came, but was softened by a pair of arms that were anything but.

And then there was a weight on my back, heavy, but strangely comforting.

Comforting, at least until I heard another shot.