Chapter 4
ENZO
I’ve been in the States for a week, and I haven’t made much progress dealing with the MC because I’m too busy stalking Jenna.
After visiting the factory and learning that the MC club has been beating up the workers, I’ve put in an order with the island for a security team to guard the premises.
They arrived yesterday, and now that I don’t have to worry about the factory and workers, I’m driving toward the dive bar where the bikers are known to hang out.
Every night I watch Jenna, and during the days, I get a few hours of sleep before trying to do something productive.
It’s not normal behavior for me, but I can’t keep myself away from that damn gas station.
Luckily, I haven’t heard shit about the bastard I killed the night I arrived. I’ve asked the control room on the island to keep an eye out for any chatter regarding the murder, but so far, nothing has turned up.
I’ve also asked them to find out everything they can about Jenna. All I could give them was a photo of her, her name, and where she works, so the team has their work cut out for them.
My phone starts ringing, and I glance down at the screen. Seeing John’s name, I accept the call.
“What?”
“Hi, boss. I just want to check in with you. How are things in Aurora?”
“Fine. Any problems in Lisbon?”
“No. It’s quiet here, so I can come to the States to join you.”
“No, stay in Lisbon.”
Approaching the bar, where motorcycles are parked, I end the call without another word.
I’m dressed in my usual suit, so I’m going to stand out like a sore thumb, but I don’t give two shits.
I stop the SUV at the front, blocking a couple of bikes, and switch off the engine. Just as I’m about to open the door, my phone beeps with an incoming message. Seeing it’s from the island, I quickly open it.
Full Name: Jenna Dotson
Age: 26
Birthday: 08/01
I devour every single piece of information, learning that she doesn’t have a father and that her mother resides in Florida. She started working at the gas station right out of school, and her credit rating is very low because she doesn’t make enough to survive.
Her bank statement shows a balance of eighteen dollars. She makes a withdrawal once a week, and there’s only one subscription going off at the end of every month.
She’s lived in Aurora all her life, and I wonder why she didn’t move to Florida with her mother.
There’s a photo of a cheerleading team, showing Jenna in a white and blue uniform, a wide smile on her face, and her chin lifted high. It’s from an article in the local newspaper, congratulating the team for winning some kind of competition.
I keep staring at the younger girl, taking in the happiness shining from her eyes.
The woman I met at the gas station and the girl in the photo could be two different people.
I glance up, my gaze narrowing as I process the meager information I’ve learned about the shy woman with the mesmerizing eyes.
From the moment I laid eyes on Jenna, I became obsessed with her. I should be worried about the strong reaction I have toward her, but instead, I find myself curious to know more.
I want to know every single little detail about her.
I want to steal her away from the gas station and lock her in a room where only I can look at her.
I want to explore every inch of her body and find out just how innocent she is.
I want Jenna Dotson all for myself.
Which is fucking insane. I’m always in control. Work is all that matters. But still, I’m so captivated by Jenna, I can’t stop myself from watching her.
Men wearing worn jeans, T-shirts, and leather cuts come out of the bar, they’re eyes locked on my SUV.
I push the door open and pull my gun out from behind my back, where it’s tucked into my waistband. Flicking off the safety, I stay behind the door for cover as I stare them down.
“Who’s the leader?” I ask, but it comes out sounding more like an order.
One of the men takes a step forward while tapping on the badge sewn into his cut. “I’m the vice president. You must be Enzo. We heard you were here but didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to come to our bar.”
My eyes narrow again as I lock eyes with the man.
“Your factory has been open for over a month,” he says with a smirk. “You owe us ten thousand dollars for July, and while you’re at it, you can pay us up front for August.”
The corner of my mouth lifts as a chuckle rumbles from my chest.
I didn’t plan on attacking so soon, but hell, why not? Now is as good a time as any.
I check the other men’s patches, and when I see one that says Sgt.
at Arms, I don’t hesitate. My arm flies up and I pull the trigger.
I shoot him in the shoulder, and just because I really want to make a statement, I shoot another man in the leg and the vice-president in his side as they all duck for cover behind their bikes.
Just as they all pull their weapons out and open fire on the SUV, I get back into the driver's seat and start the engine.
As the wheels spin, kicking up a cloud of dust, I speed onto the road and floor the gas.
A wide smile spreads over my face, my heart beating a little faster.
That was fun.
Soon enough, I hear engines roar, and checking the rearview mirror, I see four motorcycles coming after me.
I slow down, giving them time to catch up to me, and when the first one comes up beside my SUV, I turn the steering wheel sharply, slamming into the bike and sending him careening off the road.
I let down my window before I slam on the brakes, and as the other bikers swerve to try and avoid a collision, I dart out of the SUV and open fire on them, hitting two while the third lets his motorcycle slide to avoid the bullets.
The man climbs to his feet and glares at me.
I make a show of tucking my gun back into my waistband, then take off my jacket and toss it on the driver’s seat.
As I walk a few steps closer, he says, “You’re dead meat.”
I shrug and indicate with an impatient wave for him to attack.
He lets out an angry roar as he charges me, and when he takes a wild swing at me, I lean back, avoiding his fist. He almost loses his balance, and I go on the offense, delivering a blow to his kidney.
As the air whooshes from his lungs, I move faster, punching him consecutively in the face, which causes him to stagger backward.
I launch my body into the air and kick him in the throat, and as he drops to his ass, I land on my feet.
Adjusting my vest, I roll my neck before I stare down at the man now covered in blood.
“I don’t care whose territory this is. If you cause any further trouble at my factory or interfere with my trucks transporting my goods, I will kill every last one of you.
” I take a step closer to where he’s groaning on the hot surface of the road, and I nudge his gut with the point of my shoe.
“Stay out of my business, and I’ll stay out of yours. ”
“This is Demons’ territory, fucker,” he growls.
“Not anymore.”
Done delivering the only warning I’m giving the club, I walk back to my SUV and climb inside. I start the engine, and when I begin to drive, the man has to roll out of the way to avoid being run over.
Well, after that little showdown, the club is going to be out for my blood, and law enforcement is bound to pay me a visit.
Picking up my phone, I call the control center on the island.
“Afternoon, Mr. Oliveira. How can we be of assistance?” Miro, who always takes our calls, answers.
“Send another team of ten men to me and find out if we have anyone on our payroll who can cover things up in Minnesota.”
“Give me a few seconds while I check.”
I continue to drive back to the house I’m renting, while I hold on the line.
“We have Secretary Spackman,” Miro says. “Do you need me to get a message to him?”
“Yes. Advise him that things are going to get hot in the vicinity of Aurora, Minnesota. While I’m here, he'd better keep the police from sniffing around me.”
“I’ll take care of that immediately, sir.”
“Thank you.”
“Your order for security has been processed, and the guards will be in Minnesota first thing tomorrow. Do you need anything else, sir?”
“That will be all. Thank you, Miro.”
I end the call, and a few minutes later, I pull up to my house that’s surrounded by green trees. Even though the place needs a lot of work, it’s beginning to grow on me. I’ve ordered new furniture and can’t wait to get rid of the old shit in the house.
The day after I arrived, I was surprised to see the property borders on a lake. I’ve bought a speedboat, which will be useful if I need to make a quick escape via water.
Checking the time on my phone as I climb out of the SUV, I see I still have four hours before Jenna starts her shift at the gas station.
I take a few seconds to look at the damage to the side of the SUV and let out a disgruntled breath. At least it’s just a dent with a few scrapes.
I head into the house, and taking the stairs up to the second floor, I go straight to the bedroom, where I exchange the empty magazine of my gun for a full one.
I’ve been sleeping downstairs in the living room because the weapons I got from the island take up most of the space in the main bedroom, and it’s easier to keep an eye out for potential intruders.
Moving to the window, I glance at the boathouse down below, thinking I should move some of my arsenal there. Having all the weapons in the same spot is risky.
The day after I arrived, I walked through the two-story house again and saw a gym. I can put some of the guns there as well.
Grabbing a box of grenades, two handguns, and a submachine gun, I head downstairs and exit via the back door. I have to set everything down on the lawn so I can dig the keys out of my pocket, and finding the right one, I unlock the boathouse.
There are shelves along the walls, and a pile of thick rope in the corner. The water laps gently against the wooden surface that acts as a walkway around the area where the boat will be moored.
I’ll have to oil the weapons regularly so they don’t rust out here.
I set the box and handguns down on one of the shelves and walk to the corner where I hide the submachine gun under the rope.
Leaving the boathouse, I lock the door before heading back to the house. After I’ve carried most of the weapons down to the gym, I take a quick shower and change into a clean suit.
When I was nineteen, I bought my first suit, and the look instantly became a favorite. Now it’s second nature to wear one.
Walking into the kitchen, I open the fridge and grab chicken breasts and mushrooms to make rissóis. Usually, I’d use shrimp for the filling, but I couldn’t find any that looked fresh at the nearby stores.
While I prepare the breaded pastry, which are half-moon shapes, I think about my altercation with the MC club.
I could just blow up the bar when most of the members are there and pick off the stragglers.
I play with the idea for a little while before I decide against it. I’d like to meet face-to-face with the president and hear what he has to say.
As I fry the rissóis, my thoughts turn to Jenna and what I found out about her. I shake my head, thinking I didn’t learn all that much.
I’ve talked to her every time I’ve been in to get a cup of that god-awful coffee, but she never says anything and just blushes.
Lifting a pastry that’s ready out of the oil, I set it down on a paper towel, then I freeze as a new idea pops into my head.
I could kidnap her. It would be so easy to grab her on her way home. The roads are always quiet.
While I play with the thought of taking Jenna, I continue making the food, and by the time all the rissóis are ready, I let out a sigh.
Kidnapping someone like Jenna is dangerous. She’s already fragile, and it might break her completely, which is the last thing I want.
I’ll have to be patient and see if she relaxes over the next few days. Maybe she just needs to get used to seeing me around.
I let out another heavy sigh because patience is not a virtue I’ve mastered.