Page 33 of Enzo

TWELVE

Enzo

I wasn’tsure how long Tudor had been standing there, watching me stack parts onto the bench ready for tomorrow, but I felt his eyes before I heard his voice.

“Logan’s heading out for parts, so reckon you want to walk an old man home?”

“You’re not old.”

“And you’re full of shit.” He huffed, a sound that could have been amusement, but he let me take his arm anyway.

“Back in ten,” I told Robbie, who glanced up at me, his fingers gripping the edge of the book he was reading, uncertainty flickering in the crease between his brows. Then, as if catching himself, he tilted his chin—a habit he’d developed lately, feeling the fear but pushing it aside.

“Okay,” he said, watching as we headed to the door.

“Night, Robbie,” Tudor called.

“Night, Tudor,” Robbie said with a smile.

I locked the door behind me and set the exterior alarm—I might only be away ten minutes, but Robbie needed to feel safe. He’d been getting better, pushing past his fears, but I still caught the flicker of hesitation in his eyes when he was alone here. I knew he’d be okay—he had his routines, his spaces, the book he was pretending to be lost in—but I knew the weight of being alone still sat heavy on him. Lately, I’d seen him fighting it, tilting his chin up and setting his shoulders as if he dared himself to be stronger. It made me proud. Watching him push past his fears, standing a little taller, claiming space that had once made him shrink—it warmed something in me. Pride, sure, but also something deeper, something I wasn’t ready to name. It also made me worry he’d never feel safe enough to leave Redcars, but I was trying to fix that. I’d find out who hurt him, and I’d make the world safe for Robbie by taking whoever it was out of any goddamn equation.

And fuck that. He could stay here forever if he needed to, because the idea of him leaving unsettled me more than I wanted to admit. It wasn’t just about keeping him safe anymore. I liked knowing he was close, within reach, where I could watch over him and not wonder if he was okay.

He’d filled out since he arrived at Redcars, gotten stronger, and his body was taking shape in ways that made it hard for me to see him as the broken man we’d found, but he was still fragile. Tiny compared to me, he was delicate, sweet, gentle, and scared, but sometimes, he seemed… confident. And shit, I was losing myself in thought again, right in front of the one person who always saw through everything.

Tudor glanced at me, with that frustrating knowing smile. “You can get right back after,” he reassured me.

The streets were quieter than usual, and the scent of rain lingered in the air, mixed with the sharp tang of exhaust fumes. Echo Park never really slept, but it dozed after the stores closed and before the first evening shift workers headed out to bars and clubs in other districts.

“You doing okay?” Tudor asked as we made our way down the alley toward the trailer park, his voice quieter, as if he were lost in thought.

“I should be asking you that,” I said, eyeing how he moved slower than he used to.

“Don’t fuss.” He waved me off, though the gesture lacked its usual bite.

“You asked me to walk you home.”

“Just needed to talk,” he admitted—a rare confession that made me glance at him twice. “Got some things to say to you.”

“Save me now,” I deadpanned, trying to lighten the mood. That earned me a grunt, but I felt him lean into me a little more. Not that he’d ever admit he needed it. When I’d first arrived at the broken-down garage, it was a place I wanted to escape. Now, I wasn’t sure what I’d do without it or the family I’d found within its walls, including Tudor, the stubborn bastard.

“You were quiet today,” Tudor observed, sharp as ever.

“Working hard on that Chevy,” I lied.

He scoffed. “Lying’s a sin.”

“So is gambling, and I seem to remember you playing poker last week.”

Tudor chuckled, low and rough, and the sound eased something tight in my chest. We reached his home, a mobile home with a small garden, worn but loved. Tudor dug into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys that rattled against each other, fingers slower than they used to be. I pretended not to notice, just like I always did.

“Okay then, night,” I said, and waited for him to close the door.

“Come in for a bit.”

“I need to get back.” To Robbie.

“Ten, is all,” He said, and I glanced back in the direction of Redcars and then followed him in with a sigh.

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