Chapter 7 Lorenzo
LORENZO
I saw her before she saw me.
Across the field, Natasha had embraced Lachlan MacKenzie like she belonged there. Laughing. Relaxed. Her cheek lay on his bicep, his arm wrapped around her—casual, thoughtless affection. The kind earned in time. It seemed like they loved each other. Loved each other for years.
That couldn’t be the case.
The three of us crossed paths three Decembers ago. The infamous Dodger. The Golden Highlander didn’t have dibs on her. I’d studied him like a case file for a black-ops mission for years. I’d etched every detail about him in my memory, like evidence waiting for the right time.
Was this the right time to deck him?
Probably not. I hid a smile as I watched the tick of his muscles as he stormed toward me.
Watched the way his thumb ran over his fists in barely restrained violence.
Golden Boy had a tell. When he mentioned the elevator, I wanted to tell him his current restraint paled to mine in that moment with Natasha.
Instead, I pivoted. Best not to poke the bear in front of my military fra, Jamie.
Smiling, I turned the conversation away from me and his woman in the elevator.
“Hey, I’m a fan.” Though I ramped up the Italian accent for women or every once in a while to get what I wanted from a friend, I played it up—just to be consistent.
Paired the melodic consonants with a nice-guy act.
“You’re my favorite player. That postseason slide last year?
I studied it frame by frame.” Hmmm? Did he notice my choice word—frame?
A subtle reference to Natasha’s career. My thoughts revolve around your woman. She will be mine. She. Will. Be.
Mine.
“But baseball’s a game, yeah?” I lowered my voice so that my disrespect didn’t carry any further than the Scot in front of me. “That’s what you do. Play games for big money. Take pictures. I respect it.”
“Yep. I make big money. Just to play a game. Such a blessing. But we’re talking about off the field. Natasha. She’s not a game. She’s not a trophy, my man. She’s a woman to be loved. And a woman used to certain luxuries. Luxuries you can’t afford to satiate. Respect that.”
My trigger finger itched. I stared at my mark.
PID. Positive identification of a target acquired.
At Jamie and Jordyn’s wedding two years ago, I had vowed not to kill him.
Even though I talked crap, I loved baseball.
Yet I despised every man who valued money over humanity.
Like I was nothing. The fair game? Letting Natasha choose? Not an option.
A woman used to certain luxuries. Luxuries you can’t afford to satiate. A million ways for his demise flashed in my mind.
“Okay, boys.” Natasha walked up, saving me from snapping his neck like a twig.
“Ciao, Natasha.” I continued to ramp up the Italian accent that so many women loved in bed.
“Hi, Lorenzo.”
Ouch. That didn’t sound like my girl. “If this is the second—ahem—third round of fighting,” she said, “me and my cousin can go.”
“Nae.” Lachlan groaned beneath his breath.
“Enzo?” she said, eyes swinging to me, and I caught Lach’s wince. He didn’t like that, her using a nickname.
I shook my head. “Clearly, I’m the problem. I’ll bow out.” Today.
I softened my stance, shoulders sagging, and focused on that helpless, lost-puppy look I knew she couldn’t ignore. Her gaze bounced away from me. Dang. She couldn’t look me in the eye. Didn’t ask me to stay. Next thing I know? Natasha exhaled. Relief?
I turned away. As Lachlan embraced her and kissed her head, I mouthed over my shoulder, See you Monday, Tasha.
I hope she didn’t realize I knew her schedule with that cancer doctor.
Meeting her at the hospital could be risky, but I’d have Rain infiltrate the hospital security film again.
She’d scrub footage for the entire floor in case Vassili Resnov checked.
And, yeah, he’d checked. Rain had told me that someone else had found a back door after she had scrambled the elevator and parking structure footage weeks ago.
At the lot, my boots struck pavement, the sound measured, soldier-sharp. Mission parameters set. Objective locked. The Scot had gotten under my skin, but killing him …
“You can’t kill your brother’s … brother.” Sighing, I slipped into the truck, duct tape in multiple places from where the sun cracked the leather.
I shook the image of Jamie from my mind and dialed Rain Howard.
The cyber operator picked up on the second ring, voice silk wrapped in steel. “Talk to me.”
“Almost snapped his neck.” My knuckles whitened while I choked the steering wheel. “The arrogance. He thinks money keeps her warm at night. Thinks because he throws a ball and poses for cameras, she belongs to him.”
“Enzo. Focus, baby.” Her tone dropped, steady. “Maybe you should let this go.”
I dragged in a breath. My head wanted blood. My chest … empty. Okay, maybe not empty. I had a heart. I’d fought spine to spine with his brother, Jamie. For now, that connection kept Lachlan alive. “You know why I can’t let it go. Why I can’t let him go. I never had my father. Vassili saw to that.”
“I know,” she said in a purr. “I’m listening. Just let it out.”
“My papa was a fighter. UFC. Just like Vassili.” My voice cracked before I forced it low again. “A greater man than Vassili could ever be.”
I shut my eyes. Saw the fight that haunted me. Every replay burned in my memory. Blinking it away, I said, “I don’t want Natasha …” I lied.
“Of course not, she’s that monster’s daughter.” I heard the hitch in Rain’s voice. My denial gave her the confidence to proceed. “What do we do next?”
“Use Natasha to prove I’m not powerless because I grew up foster.”
“Oh, baby. Don’t forget, I was a foster youth too. We are not powerless.”
We’re talking about me.
“You have a plan, Enzo. Monday, you’ll get rid of her.”
I exhaled slowly, tension bleeding from my shoulders. “Monday,” I echoed, the promise etched in stone.
Rain hummed. “I’ll handle the hospital footage. Like last time. Vassili won’t see you there.”
Good girl. Always covering my flanks. Always believing in me.
“Game plan’s set,” I murmured. “See her Monday. And Lach?” A smile curled my lips, glass sharp. “He won’t see the end coming.”
Or the fact that instead of killing him, I’d allow him to be eaten alive by how Natasha chose me. Because I didn’t intend to get rid of Natasha like Corporal Rain Howard assumed. Nothing so simple. I’d have her first.