Page 36 of Enzo

“Hi, my name is Robbie. I work the reception. Can I get your name and a number to contact you on?” The words tumbled out, too fast, and I felt my face heat. Why couldn’t I sound normal for once?

The guy standing in front of me was tall, with red curls, and green eyes that widened as if I’d surprised him, and extended his hand, which I took because that was what I was supposed to do.

“Gray Davies. Call me Gray.”

I let go of his hand fast, my gaze darting to his chest where an ID hung then scribbled his name down before realizing what the initials under meant. A journalist. Fear clogged my throat, thick and heavy, making it hard to breathe. My hands shook, and I had to clutch the edge of the counter to steady myself. A journalist investigated things. Might know my name. Might have seen aMissingposter. Might be here to find me. Someone sent to drag me back. Someone dangerous. My pulse thundered in my ears, my mind racing with half-remembered nightmares. What if he knew who I was? What if he’d been digging, putting pieces together? I forced myself to breathe, but each gasp stuttered and hitched in my chest. I felt shaky, my legs weak.

“You don’t need to write it down,” he said in a kind tone, but other people had pretended to be kind and I’d fallen for it before. “I have the info you need.” He handed me a card, but I felt this deep need to have the details in my book, so I added them and then handed it back. That wasn’t how business cards worked, but I was close to losing my shit already.

“We’ll call you when your car is ready, sir,” I recited my rehearsed words, not thinking he needed to be told his car was toast, and felt relief when he nodded and turned away. But I knew better. I’d learned that just because someone looked like they were leaving didn’t mean theyactuallywould. My stomach twisted. Maybe Gray was playing a game, pretending to turn away to put me off guard. I gripped my notebook tighter, my fingers cold and stiff. People who seemed friendly sometimes had the worst intentions. I remembered the last time someone smiled or acted casually, and then…

Stop.

Enough.

I kept my eyes on Gray’s back, willing him to step outside, to disappear so I could breathe again. But then he stopped and turned back, and I knew this wasn’t over.

“I’d like to check out the car if that’s okay,” he said.

I bit my lip. Logan said he should leave, and there had been pain in his voice. Real pain, not the usual frustration Logan had for strangers poking around. This was different. It was as if Gray had done something personal that cut Logan deep. Why did Logan hate him? What had he done? I didn’t know, but I was sure of one thing—Logan’s anger always had a reason, and whatever that reason was, I wanted no part of it.

“Logan wouldreallylike you to leave now,” I stepped back a little. Something about Gray made me nervous, not in a bad way exactly, but I knew Logan didn’t want this guy hanging around. I didn’t know what had happened between them, but it was enough to make me anxious.

“No worries,” Gray said. “I’ll leave as soon as I’ve seen my car.”

“Logan said…” I trailed off. My voice sounded thin, and I backed another step when Gray shifted his stance.

“Can I help you?” Enzo appeared from nowhere, stepping between us, his thumbs tucked into his belt in a way that meant trouble if things didn’t go his way.

“Gray Davies—you have my car here,” Gray said, extending his hand. Enzo ignored it.

“Can I help you?” Enzo repeated, voice low and sharp.

I shuffled to my left, clutching my notebook tight to my chest. If Enzo was here, everything would be okay. I knew that. Enzo wasn’t only strong—he was solid, immovable, the kind of person you could rely on to step in when things felt too big to handle. Seeing him now, standing between me and Gray, eased some of the panic knotting my chest. My breathing steadied a little, but my hands were still cold and shaky. I told myself to stay calm, to keep breathing. But still, part of me couldn’t shake the worry this was all about to go wrong.

“You have my car. A Toyota Corolla,” Gray said.

“I know,” Enzo replied. “I was the one who towed what’s left of it.”

“By hand?” Gray quipped, gesturing at Enzo’s muscles.

Enzo didn’t smile. “We’ll call you when it’s done.”

Gray lingered, peering around Enzo to where I stood. “I asked Robbie if I could see my car first.” My heart jumped, and my breath stuttered. Fear tangled with anxiety, tightening my throat. My hands shook, and I gripped my notebook tighter, feeling the paper cut into my fingers.

What if Gray wasn’tjustsome guy with a wrecked Corolla? What if he was here for something else—something worse? What if Logan’s anger was because Gray was dangerous? I didn’t know, and not knowing terrified me. My stomach knotted tighter. Logan would hate that I was letting this happen, but I couldn’t exactly stop Enzo from deciding things.

Enzo didn’t answer right away. He stared, assessing Gray as if he were deciding whether to throw him out or let him stay. Finally, Enzo jerked his chin toward me. “It’s okay, Robbie. I got this.”

“Thanks, Enzo,” I blurted, watching Gray follow Enzo deeper into the garage. I clutched my notebook like a shield, my breathing stayed shallow, and my heart raced. I wanted to tell Logan, but what if he was still pissed off? What if I’d only make things worse?

“What the fuck was all that?” Enzo snapped as he stormed into Logan’s office after the Gray guy had left. He kicked the door shut behind him but the tiny window over the garage was open, and with my door not all the way shut I could hear everything.

“Come into my office, why don’t you,” Logan shot back, his voice tight with frustration.

“Who the hell was that, and why do we have that not-rare-at-all piece of shit to fix when it’s clearly destroyed, and what in hell’s name did you involve Robbie for?” Enzo’s voice rose, filled with tension that made my pulse jump. My stomach twisted. I knew I shouldn’t have tried to help. Iknewit.

“Gray’s a journalist,” Logan said, and Enzo cursed loud enough to make me flinch.

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