Page 160 of Hexed
Enzo stares at me in awe as I spin around and move away. “Fuck, you’re sexy.”
I grin and wink at him, trying to hide the tremble in my hands. “Focus, Lover Boy.”
He looks back at Frankie. “I’m tired of this game. I have a woman to keep happy, and every second I spend here with you is a second longer I’m not alone with her, so tell me what I need to know.”
Frankie shifts, the chain clanking, and he grimaces. “Your dad came to me a few years back, worried…panicked, even. Like he was losing his mind.”
Enzo’s chin lifts, the barrel of his gun tapping against his thigh.
“There were whispers in the ranks, he thought,” Frankie continues. “He needed someone who was connected enough that he could trust but not anyoneinhis circles.”
“And that was you,” Enzo confirms.
“Yeah, that was me.”
“And?”
“Your dad, he’s…you know he’s not right in the head anymore, don’t you?”
Enzo’s jaw clenches. “You let me worry about what I know.”
“He’s crazy, man. Paranoid. Thinks everyone’s out to get him. He told me he needed to make connections. Wanted to know more about my sister’s husband, and I’m just ecstatic because I figure, if I can be useful, maybe he’ll remember it when it comes time for the books to open, you know? So I hooked him up with Trent. Told him my brother-in-law was a powerful man in the South. Had secret weapons.” His eyes flick to mine. “Things could get taken care of easily without ever tracing back to Carlos.”
A sick sense starts to crawl its way through my middle, anxiety pumping through my blood.
“What things?” Enzo presses.
“Things like being able to do whatever you needed—kill anyone you wished—without all the bullshit tape and blowback. Things that won’t get traced to you.”
Enzo moves forward and pistol-whips him across the face.
Frankie lets out a curse, blood pouring from a large gash on his cheek caused from the sight on the gun. “Fuck, man, I’mtellingyou!”
“Quit being cryptic and spit it the fuck out, or I swear to God I’ll make sure you rot with no honor,” Enzo spits.
Frankie inhales a quick breath and then looks Enzo in the eyes. “Your dad is the one who tried to kill you, and he used Trent Kingston to do it.”
FORTY-FOUR
ENZO
Betrayal is a disease.
A slow-moving bitch of a thing that goes down like cheap liquor, burning your throat and sitting sour in your belly.
I like to think of myself as a forgiving person, but knowing my father was the one behind my attempted murder? ThatIthreatened him so much he tried to take me out and lied about it for the past year?
That’s something I can’t forgive.
And it’s definitely something I won’t forget.
I held up my end of the bargain with Frankie. Obviously, I couldn’t just let him go, but I unchained him, took him out to a deserted area, and made his death quick with a pop to the head.
He didn’t fight it. Just stood there and waited like a man. And it felt good doing something on my own again, thrilling to make a kill not sanctioned by my pops.
Afterward, we came back to Venesa’s hotel suite, because I know she isn’t comfortable being at my penthouse, and it’s not fair of me to ask her to stay there when she’s made it clear where she stands. A problem I’ll be rectifying tomorrow.
Venesa scooches behind me on her hotel bed, rising on her knees and running her hands over my shoulders. I lean back into her, letting my head fall onto her chest, near her collarbone, where her necklace rests, wishing that her presence were enough to drown out the noise in my head. I don’t know if thereisanything that can quiet the noise. Too many moving pieces, particles of dust I have to somehow find and make a tangible thing.
