Chapter 12
12
I hate that Enzo is suspicious, but what option do I have? Just go and tell him I’m running from a danger I don’t even understand? It’s hard to explain my past, I’ve not even come to terms with it myself. I don’t even know why I was held against my will. I don’t know why Father had people killed or what kind of evil he was up to, hell, I’ve never even seen the man. All I have is my speculation, and even though that has morphed into belief over the years, I don’t know anything for certain.
And then there’s explaining Anton. The thought of my confidant being painted as a villain, which I can’t see any other way to explain to Enzo he isn’t, hurts. Because in my heart, he really is the uncle I never had. He treated me kindly. Respectfully. He treated me like a daughter even though my own mom abandoned me.
The whole story is fucked up.
God, I hope Anton is okay.
Maybe I can trust Enzo, but the moment I tell him the truth, my cover will be completely blown, and I spent weeks orchestrating this escape. Still, I could use a partner like him… I don’t have the first clue how I’ll change my name on my birth certificate and keep the record sealed without someone’s help.
I thought about easier options like faking a birth certificate or getting one of a child who’s died but I don’t want to do anything illegal. It’s against everything I stand for.
What to do about my identity is a conundrum. Sealing the records of a changed birth certificate could leave me open to my past. But faking my identity could risk my future. Enzo would never hire a criminal. And now that I’m here, I want to be part of this organization more than ever.
And part of Echo Valley, too.
A few weeks ago, I would have never chosen new people over permanently escaping Father. But now? My heart tells me I found some family here. I need to do this right despite the risk.
But that means I need law enforcement. Or… Enzo. He really does seem like the kind of man who would help me. He’s devoted his life to fight against the worse kind of criminals. Against the kind of person who would keep a girl locked up for fourteen years against her will.
Last night I saw another side to Enzo. A side that made me want to see every side of him if I’m honest with myself. I’ve had a bit of a professional crush on Enzo Mendez since I first read about him as an up-and-coming in a tech entrepreneur’s magazine several years ago. The man before me is complicated and impossibly serious for sure, but I would never crush on a simple man.
Enzo does seem like a control freak, though.
But why am I even thinking this way about my boss? I need to find a way to stay here, not mess it up by crossing the line. Last night was confusing. I loved his hands on me. The caring, cautious pressure he swiped across my bare skin. That sumptuous bulge in his tight boxer briefs right in front of my face. The way I swear I felt his eyes drop momentarily to my slung shorts and I set on fire between my legs despite all my pain. Was it Enzo’s touch? Or was I bound to ignite the first time a man came that close?
I’ve never been touched romantically. But that impossibly handsome face of his, those strong hands, those biceps that would hold me tight… I can’t even imagine wanting another man to do it now that he has.
I shake myself from a haze and realize I’m staring at his profile. He hasn’t moved either for moments; his long, masculine fingers positioned over his keyboard are quiet. Maybe he’s still thinking about last night, too.
Being professional is what I should be doing. Making progress on my situation is what I should be doing. I can’t be getting distracted. I have shit to get done and my ass to save. I felt free last night, but I won’t truly be liberated until Ava Scott has an official identity.
I need to focus on the deal I want to strike. Last night, I managed to find out more than he intended me to. It’s something he really needs to know. Something I’ll tell him even if he doesn’t make this deal with me.
But I really hope he does.
His deep brown eyes are impossible to read as he considers what I want. It should scare me that I can’t read Enzo but it just makes me want to know him better instead. I get the feeling he keeps secrets, too. Maybe even ones like mine because there’s something dark and self-loathing in his gaze. Sometimes I feel that way. Like I’m damaged.
Maybe he feels the same connection I do. There’s an affinity in his gaze that wasn’t there before.
To my surprise, he completely ignores my proposition.
“How did you get into computer science?”
His question catches me off guard.
But equally, it’s a relief for him to finally ask something I can answer honestly. “When I was really young, like nine or ten, I think, it was before my mom left and she had to work all the time,” Something took her away from home anyway. “I was on my own at home a lot, and that winter it was so, so boring over Christmas break. I was looking for things to do.”
At that point, I didn’t have Fuzzy coming around to visit, and Maddy was at her grandparents’. Everyone was busy with Christmas celebrations and going around looking at lights, singing carols and picking up trees. Not me. My mom was gone most of the time that Christmas. She came home, slept and left again, sometimes before I got up, leaving fish sticks and French fries in the freezer she trusted me to cook. I’m lucky I only have one burn scar from those days.
“Anyway, there was this really old radio in the house and an old TV, because to be honest, we were dirt-poor. It was an ancient thing. You know the ones with knobs?”
He nods.
“Well, I decided to take these things apart and see how they worked and then put them together again. I went next door and asked the old lady who lived there if I could borrow some screwdrivers, which I assumed I needed. She was a widow and gave me this whole toolbox she said was her husband’s and she didn’t need any of it anymore.” I laugh lightly. “She handed it to me and said Merry Christmas. It really was a great Christmas.”
That Christmas I didn’t care that Santa only left me a Snickers bar not even wrapped in paper. All I cared about was the pursuit of how things worked.
“Taking those things apart and learning how they worked was, I mean, it probably sounds dumb but it was fascinating to me. I took apart almost everything else I could. I’d find things left on a curb somewhere…” I was so obsessed, I wasn’t even above dumpster diving. “I deconstructed anything that wasn’t digital. And then eventually when I was confident I wouldn’t get electrocuted, things that were.”
He blows sharp air out of his nose.
“What? You think I’m silly?” I ask.
“Not at all. I did the same thing with clocks and farm apparatus when I was younger.”
“You did?” My heart squeezes at the thought of us having this in common. “I was pretty obsessed.”
He puts his glasses back on. “One year for my birthday I asked for broken things from Goodwill.”
A warm smile glows in my chest. This is the first personal thing he’s shared with me. Imagining young Enzo asking for busted appliances for his birthday present makes him feel like a kindred spirit. We’re staring at each other as if in a mirror that reflects our best self. Our innocent self. The beginning before solving puzzles became less innocent. Because as much as hacking is the most incredible way to binge on that juicy feeling of curiosity, it often leads down dark alleys. I’m sure Enzo has been down many, too.
I finish answering his original question. “I guess you’ll understand then that when I discovered coding and everything, I just thought it was how deep space must be to scientists. It’s a never-ending way to try and satisfy that part of me that loves figuring things out.”
He gazes at me and lifts his eyebrows above those serious, hooded brown eyes. “And yet it never really satiates.”
In this moment, an understanding passes between us deeper than any exchange before. I’ve never felt this way. Like someone really gets me. Like someone can understand the ache of curiosity and how addictive it is. But I see all of that in his gaze. I still want to know his reasons why, but he moves the conversation elsewhere.
“Your uncle must have been very supportive.”
I change the subject back to him. I want to know him more. “Were your parents supportive? Your dad seems like he’d be a cheerleader for everything.”
Enzo started warming up for a moment there, but I think I lost him.
“He’s a good guy.” This is a severely shortened version of whatever is going on in his head. He’s pulling away again; distance creeps back between us.
Why is Enzo so closed off? I guess he can only wonder the same thing about me. I just can’t help but want to know him. Is it because he’s a puzzle? A code to crack? Or is it the something I felt last night when his hands swept across my back, making me feel safe…?
A rogue lock of hair falls over his forehead, reminding me of how he looked when he leaned over me last night. I know I have to be careful. His hands were saviors, and somewhere in those moments I liked his caress for more than relief. It didn’t just take pain away, it filled me with something at the same time.
That is dangerous. Feelings of love are dangerous. They almost made me stay with Anton. They might make me trust the wrong person. Then again, what does Enzo have to gain from exposing me? Surely he’d want to help me? Enzo is one of the good guys, right? Then again, I think Anton is good, too, but he did keep me against my will. How can I know when to trust someone else when I don’t know how to trust myself?
Focus. I need to focus on why I’m here. If you try to chase two rabbits, you won’t catch either one. “So. Back to my offer…”
I never get a chance to get the rest out because the shocking sound of a gunshot, so close it could be just downstairs, screams through the air and right through my composure. My heart stops as the sharp sound reverberates through my core and my mind is thrust back to the small basement where one of Father’s men would hold my arms to my sides and force me to watch. The smell of gunpowder is thick, and the thud of a body hitting the ground makes me weak in the knees, even though I’m squeezing my eyes tightly shut.
Another crack from outside slices through me.
Panic surges in my chest. My breath is shallow and my vision tunnels…
Enzo’s hand grabs my arm, but I instinctively pull away like I tried to pry myself free from Father’s man. He held my arms so I couldn’t cover my eyes. But I eventually had to open them…
I’m lightheaded and start to fall into the oblivion when two strong arms catch me from behind and lower me to the floor.
Enzo’s voice is thick, like an echo trying to get through humid air. “Ava. I need you to breathe for me…”
His fingers are gentle as they brush hair off my face, and I’m not sure if I’m awake, dreaming, passed out…
“I’m here, Scottie… deep breaths… ”
The world is spinning, but when I open my eyes, I anchor myself with his gaze.
“You’re going to breathe nice and deep for me. In for three counts…”
I draw in a breath along with his spicy cologne.
“Hold for three…”
I hold in his scent.
“Out for three… that’s it… and again. In, two, three…” His voice is calm and soothing.
But another shot rings out, and I can’t help but jolt.
He hugs me into him. “You’re all right. It’s outside. Keep breathing…”
I focus on his hands on my back, the warmth and strength of his chest… I ground myself. What can I see? The crocodile on his polo shirt. What can I hear… no, no … what can I smell…?
Another gun cracks off, and I flinch. Less this time, but goddamn, it’s such a visceral reaction I can’t stop myself. It all comes back. The guys who dropped to the floor while blood leaked out beneath their lifeless bodies. I’ll never forget them. Especially the greasy-haired man who looked me in the eye and begged me to ask them not to kill him. My eyes sting, and I squeeze them shut and breathe in what I can smell. Enzo’s musky, and somehow sharp cologne…
“Keep breathing… you’re safe…” Enzo strokes the top of my head. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He stares deeply into my eyes, checking I’m not going to pass out.
I don’t want him to go but I can’t speak.
He rushes off to the window, throws open the sash, and shouts, “Stand down!”
Then, the faint voice of Santiago rises from below. He must have heard Enzo shouting and reiterates his brother’s command. “Enough for today, gentlemen… ”
Enzo kneels back by my side. “Just keep breathing. You’re safe. Okay?”
I nod and when I open my eyes, the room comes into view. Enzo is there, his gaze firmly fixed on me with worry. God… I’m a damn fool. I swallow, but my tongue is like sandpaper. “Sorry. That was… just…” How do I even explain that?
He helps me up to sit on the chair and keeps his arm on the back of it, still leaning in with comforting energy. “You don’t owe me an apology.”
A nervous smile dances on my lips. “You’re a real Superman behind those Clark Kent glasses.”
He still stares at me like I’m not okay, like he’s watching for any chance of me passing out. He grabs my thermal mug and offers it to me. I sip, and we sit in a deafening silence. Questions burn between us. I nearly suffocate in the inferno of quiet. What will he say next?
Enzo is introspective. Always processing. Never wastes a word. I wish he would just fill the space.
I do it for us. “Why were there guns shooting out there?” I add something nonchalant as if it might explain my reaction. “It was a surprise. I didn’t expect that.”
“Santi has the guards come down to help trainee horses accept gunfire.”
“Oh.” Maybe we can talk about the horses instead of me. “Isn’t that cruel?”
“It’s a slow assimilation. The horses aren’t close to the gunshots, and someone is with them to call the shots off if it’s too much.”
He turns his gaze on me again, and I could set on fire with its intensity. I pull my hands inside my hoodie sleeves.
Clearly, words weigh heavy in his mind. They do in mine, too. What he just saw is a big piece of evidence, that’s for sure. Not many people have a full-on panic attack at the mere sound of a gunshot if it’s not close by.
Finally, he speaks. “I like the sound of the deal you were trying to strike, Ava. But…” He gestures to the window. “Tell me what that’s about.” Thunderclouds shift over his gaze. “Tell me who did that to you.”
I’m at a loss for words. It’s a moment I knew would come but I wasn’t prepared for. Do I tell him?
Then he says words that could bring me to my knees. Ones I want with all my heart but I’m not at all ready for.
“I can help you.”
My heart drops. He has no idea how much that means to me. Still… not yet. I have to prove myself. Give before you get.
“Let me help you first, Enzo. How about that?”
Confusion paints his features.
I try to lighten the space between us and tease a little. “If I help you first, you’ll owe me.”
He throws his face into his hands, but from behind them comes a one-syllable laugh.
“Did you actually just laugh?”
He scrubs his hand down his face, and the Enzo I know is back.
“What?” I laugh lightly.
“You’re just…” He shakes his head, searching for the precise word. “Different.”
I take that word as a compliment. “So what do you say? Do you want to see what I can really do here or what?”
He lifts his eyebrows. “What have you got?”
I play my joker. “GhostEye has been hacked. And not just by me.”