Page 14
Story: The Enforcer
“What the fuck does that mean?” He didn’t like the thought of Mary on any man’s list, not even his best friend’s.
“I was going to fabricate a will of a sorts, so she would come into money. Her wanting to get married actually solves this problem for me. At a far less cost than I’d anticipated. Though I’m sure Jazzy will insist on an elaborate wedding gift.” He snorted, as if that bothered him, but Hector knew that to not be true. Gio was the most generous man he knew.
“That’s quite a scheme you had planned there.”
Gio shrugged and sat on a bench with weights. “The girl deserves it. Unlike her skank of a sister, who has bailed on her to chase after some British millionaire.”
Gina Rossi. After she’d almost gotten Jazzy killed, she was lucky to be alive. He wasn’t surprised that Gio still kept tabs on her.
“So”—Gio gave him a scrutinizing look—“tell me why you didn’t step up and offer to marry her.”
“You really need to ask?”
“Yes, I do. Because I see the way you look at her when you think she doesn’t notice.”
Bullshit. He didn’t look at her that often.
Probably.
Maybe.
Probably.
Hector sent him a glare. “You know her. Hell, you could have picked her yourself when you had the chance, but you didn’t because she’s too innocent. Parts of me are so dark they are beyond repair. What kind of life would I be able to give her and a kid?” He wasn’t marriage material. Mary was the light to his darkness, the sunshine to his eclipse. She was everything good that he wasn’t.
Gio narrowed his eyes. “First of all, I didn’t pick Mary because once I’d seen Jazzy, there was no going back for me. And secondly, I was thinking what you could give her was security, protection, a family of her own; things Mary craves. But I can see that you’re going to be a stubborn bastard about this.”
Yes, he was.
Gio got up. “I’ve asked your assistant to email Mary a copy of your men’s resumes. I take it you’re okay with that?”
“Sure,” he gritted out.
“Good. See you tonight. At eight.”
The smug bastard didn’t even let Hector have the illusion that he wouldn’t be there when Mary would announce her choice.
Fuck my life.
Now he had hours to look forward to the moment she would show Gio the picture of some good-looking prick. A guy he had handpicked with Achilles, his second-in-command. Somehow it didn’t seem fair. As if the universe was giving him a big fucking middle finger.
“Oh, one more thing,” Gio said. “I was informed that Zoe’s uncle was called by Child Protective Services today. He’s her last living relative. It’s the same uncle that—allegedly—hurt Britney as a child. The guy likes his liquor. And his cigs, using kids to put them out on. But I’m sure there’s nothing you can do about that.”
Gio dropped a file on the corner of the bench and walked away.
Part of Hector knew Gio was baiting him, setting him up. He knew his friend better than anyone. No way in hell would Giovanni Detta allow Zoe to fall in the hands of an asshole who took his rage out on a defenseless kid.
So, Hector didn’t need to step up. Not his woman. Not his child. Not his problem. Gio would take care of it. He didn’t need to get involved.
He was just going to peek into the file. No harm ever came from peeking.
***
By the time Hector had put down the damning file on the uncle, dinnertime had passed. The bastard uncle had never been charged because there hadn’t been any solid evidence, but everything about him reeked. Britney had never pressed charges. Whether it was out of fear or because she didn’t want to open up old wounds, he didn’t know. The troubled girl had taken her little sister and moved to another town to get away from her uncle. There was a report about a neighbor calling the authorities, but it had been only rumors, and nothing came of it.
If he’d had any doubts about Mary going through with her ‘marry a man in a few days mission’ before, he didn’t anymore. And honestly, he was proud of her for stepping up.
He took a shower and changed into his usual gear; cargo pants, a black T-shirt, and biker boots. He was just about to leave when Achilles strolled in. A few men trickled in after him.
“I was going to fabricate a will of a sorts, so she would come into money. Her wanting to get married actually solves this problem for me. At a far less cost than I’d anticipated. Though I’m sure Jazzy will insist on an elaborate wedding gift.” He snorted, as if that bothered him, but Hector knew that to not be true. Gio was the most generous man he knew.
“That’s quite a scheme you had planned there.”
Gio shrugged and sat on a bench with weights. “The girl deserves it. Unlike her skank of a sister, who has bailed on her to chase after some British millionaire.”
Gina Rossi. After she’d almost gotten Jazzy killed, she was lucky to be alive. He wasn’t surprised that Gio still kept tabs on her.
“So”—Gio gave him a scrutinizing look—“tell me why you didn’t step up and offer to marry her.”
“You really need to ask?”
“Yes, I do. Because I see the way you look at her when you think she doesn’t notice.”
Bullshit. He didn’t look at her that often.
Probably.
Maybe.
Probably.
Hector sent him a glare. “You know her. Hell, you could have picked her yourself when you had the chance, but you didn’t because she’s too innocent. Parts of me are so dark they are beyond repair. What kind of life would I be able to give her and a kid?” He wasn’t marriage material. Mary was the light to his darkness, the sunshine to his eclipse. She was everything good that he wasn’t.
Gio narrowed his eyes. “First of all, I didn’t pick Mary because once I’d seen Jazzy, there was no going back for me. And secondly, I was thinking what you could give her was security, protection, a family of her own; things Mary craves. But I can see that you’re going to be a stubborn bastard about this.”
Yes, he was.
Gio got up. “I’ve asked your assistant to email Mary a copy of your men’s resumes. I take it you’re okay with that?”
“Sure,” he gritted out.
“Good. See you tonight. At eight.”
The smug bastard didn’t even let Hector have the illusion that he wouldn’t be there when Mary would announce her choice.
Fuck my life.
Now he had hours to look forward to the moment she would show Gio the picture of some good-looking prick. A guy he had handpicked with Achilles, his second-in-command. Somehow it didn’t seem fair. As if the universe was giving him a big fucking middle finger.
“Oh, one more thing,” Gio said. “I was informed that Zoe’s uncle was called by Child Protective Services today. He’s her last living relative. It’s the same uncle that—allegedly—hurt Britney as a child. The guy likes his liquor. And his cigs, using kids to put them out on. But I’m sure there’s nothing you can do about that.”
Gio dropped a file on the corner of the bench and walked away.
Part of Hector knew Gio was baiting him, setting him up. He knew his friend better than anyone. No way in hell would Giovanni Detta allow Zoe to fall in the hands of an asshole who took his rage out on a defenseless kid.
So, Hector didn’t need to step up. Not his woman. Not his child. Not his problem. Gio would take care of it. He didn’t need to get involved.
He was just going to peek into the file. No harm ever came from peeking.
***
By the time Hector had put down the damning file on the uncle, dinnertime had passed. The bastard uncle had never been charged because there hadn’t been any solid evidence, but everything about him reeked. Britney had never pressed charges. Whether it was out of fear or because she didn’t want to open up old wounds, he didn’t know. The troubled girl had taken her little sister and moved to another town to get away from her uncle. There was a report about a neighbor calling the authorities, but it had been only rumors, and nothing came of it.
If he’d had any doubts about Mary going through with her ‘marry a man in a few days mission’ before, he didn’t anymore. And honestly, he was proud of her for stepping up.
He took a shower and changed into his usual gear; cargo pants, a black T-shirt, and biker boots. He was just about to leave when Achilles strolled in. A few men trickled in after him.
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