Page 51 of Enzo

I stared at the screen, pointing at the taller of the two. “John,” I said on a breath, my heart pounding. The image was nothing more than shadow and suggestion, but the chill crawling over my skin was real. That was the same silhouette I’d seen at the window. Same height. Same tilt of the head. John had been trying to get to me—at me. “And that… it’s the man with the car.”

“Who?”

“Vinnie.” I remembered his name, his face, and the fact he’d scared me.

Rio cursed.

“Jamie?”

“Yeah?”

You’re sure no one got in?” My voice cracked, and I hated that it did.

Jamie stared at me, his blue gaze steady but grim. “They didn’t get inside.”

Enzo tightened his hold briefly, “Sweetheart, do you remember anything about where this John guy held you?”

I shook my head. Everything was a haze, broken, tiny pieces of nothing at all. “Dark, a warehouse, cold, one room. When I ran, I crossed the freeway, but I didn’t see outside.”

Enzo hugged me, “I want that man dead,” he said in a dead tone.

I clung to Enzo, but I couldn’t hold onto him all day, and finally I had to step away and pretend I hadn’t lost my shit. Whenever he was near, I was hyperaware of him, and I wanted to sit with him, and kiss him, and then regretted feeling that, and I was caught in this endless loop of questioning what the hell I was doing.

Jamie was glued to his laptop, Rio fixed the window, welding bars across the space, Logan paced and talked to his ex on the phone about not visiting with Cassidy at the weekend, citing work—lying to her.

Me being here was fucking everything up.

Even Tudor visited, limping, leaning on his cane, exchanging clipped words with Logan before walking straight over to me. I winced, bracing for the inevitable—this was it. The part where he told me to leave. That I was too much risk. That I was endangering the people at Redcars.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he found Enzo, eyes sharp and filled with a fury I didn’t expect from someone who was so frail and recovering from an accident.

“Enzo,” he said, voice low and controlled, but lethal. “Find whoever did this to Robbie. Find who scared him. And finish it. You don’t stop. You don’t sleep. None of you let this lie.”

Enzo nodded, jaw clenched, silent and deadly. I saw Rio nod as well, but Jamie was still tapping away.

Then Tudor pushed himself upright with a soft grunt and made his way to the couch where I sat like something broken. He lowered himself next to me, wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and pulled me gently to his side.

“We’ve got you, Robbie,” he said, his voice gentler now but no less fierce. “You’re our family, and we’ve got you.”

That broke something in me. The tears welled again, not just from fear, but from the unbearable weight of being cared for. Every part of me wanted to pull away, to disappear into the shame and the self-hate. But I didn’t. I let myself lean in. Just a little. Because something in me, something small and bruised and still alive, wanted to believe him.

Maybe they really did have me.

Maybe, this time, I wasn’t alone.

He left then, stopping one last time to talk to Enzo. I heard the name Killian—that was the lawyer guy who’d helped Logan, which meant nothing. I didn’t need a lawyer, I needed to be safe.

“Fucking asshole,” Jamie snapped, his mouth a tight line, as he tipped his laptop screen so everyone could see.

Enzo stiffened. His hands curled into fists at his sides, trembling.

“Vinnie,” he snapped.

“Didn’t know about the bakery cameras. Rookie mistake,” Jamie said.

“So we can’t find this John guy, then we track Vinnie down,” Enzo said. “And get him to talk.”

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