Page 20 of Enzo (Redcars #1)
TWENTY
Enzo
I loved staying in the apartment at Redcars. It wasn’t much, but it was near Robbie. That first night Robbie arrived, I didn’t leave his side. He wouldn’t let go of my hand, fingers curled around mine like a lifeline, terrified even in unconsciousness. And every night after that, I was happiest knowing he was safe. But last night there was no sleeping at all. I was anxious, grumpy, fell asleep at the kitchen table, and was tangled up in my damn head. I hadn’t heard anything from Mateo about Vinnie, and I couldn’t forget the fear at hearing Robbie scream when John had crashed into the window. All I wanted to do was hold Robbie and kiss him and keep him safe from everyone.
Including me.
Robbie needed safety, stability, someone who wouldn’t make it about their own selfish feelings. I mean, fuck, look how frightened he’d been when he’d pressed the alarm.
I raked a hand through my hair, muttering a curse. Robbie didn’t need confusion. He needed safety, comfort, a place where he didn’t have to be afraid. All of this meant I was awake at dawn, restless and guilty, Logan walking into the kitchen equally exhausted.
“You look like shit,” I greeted him.
Logan laughed. “Back at ya.”
“Late-night calls with Gray?”
He shook his head, drained. “Wish it was that easy. Lawyers are asking me to accept my ex and her new man taking Cassie to Switzerland for fucks sake, and I can’t afford a lawyer of my own and… fuck my life.”
Silence filled the kitchen as we waited for the coffee machine, both tangled in our worries. I jumped when Logan spoke again.
“So that’s me. What’s eating you?”
Frustration boiled over. “Finding Vinnie. Finding John. The others.” I rubbed my eyes. “Wanting more with Robbie, more kissing, holding him, completely fucking things up.”
Logan didn’t look surprised, just amused. “About damn time.”
“Not helpful.”
He shook his head, serious now. “Enzo, anyone with eyes can see how you look at him.”
I sighed, heart aching. “It’s complicated. Robbie trusts me. Depends on me. And after what happened with this John guy, I want to protect him, not confuse him.”
“Robbie’s not fragile,” Logan said, his tone gentle but firm.
“But he is… he’s scared and needy and looks to me to help and I should be doing that and not perving on him.”
“Jesus, Enzo, that’s a lot to unpick.”
I exhaled sharply, frustration curling through me. “It’s not—it’s not what you think. It’s not real. It’s just—” I gestured vaguely, searching for the right words. “We both know he’s running from something, and yeah, I’ve been there for him, but that doesn’t mean this—whatever makes me want to hold him is real. He thinks he needs me because I was the one who found him, and I make him feel safe. That’s not attraction. That’s survival. I’ve Stockholm Syndrome’d him. “
Logan huffed a quiet laugh. “Robbie isn’t a prisoner; you’re not his jailer.”
The side door creaked open, interrupting us. Jamie stood there, bleary-eyed, suspicion flickering across his face.
“Why are you two up?” Jamie asked, eyes narrowing, then he frowned. “Kid okay?”
“Not a kid,”
“Word on Vinnie?”
“Nothing. What are you doing here so freaking early?”
Jamie huffed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Rio went to a fight, and brought home a guest,” he said, using exaggerated air quotes. “Walls are thin.”
I knew better than to ask for details. Rio was a revolving door of hookups and half-hearted relationships, with each new encounter leaving a subtle ripple of tension. Though he rarely voiced his frustration, Jamie often got irritable with his roommate and best friend, his patience thinning with every restless night. Still, we had an unspoken agreement: Jamie kept his grievances private, I resisted prying even when I could smell smoke on him, and Rio remained a mystery wrapped in underground fights, random hookups, and bad decisions.
With a sigh, Jamie trudged toward the kitchen and planted himself in front of the coffee machine, glaring at it as if it had personally wronged him.
“I spotted someone leaning against a beat-up sedan across the street like he had nowhere better to be.” He pressed a button. The machine hissed, sputtering in defiance, but finally, all three of us had coffee, and Jamie’s statement had time to percolate as well. “Thought it was Vinnie and nearly leaped a car to burn the fucker.”
“But you didn’t.”
Jamie showed us his hands. “No accelerant,” he joked, and it was enough to get me to smile.
I took a slow sip of my coffee, jaw tightening.
Logan finished his first coffee, going in for a second. “We’ll keep all security recordings, okay?”
“Yep.”
Logan thumped the wall next to my head which dragged me right the fuck out of daydreaming. “Listen up, work as usual, okay? We’ve got two cars in today—a ‘67 Mustang and some piece-of-shit Civic that barely made it here last time. The Mustang’s got potential. The Civic? Not so much.”
Jamie smirked. “I call the Mustang.”
I snorted, all thoughts of drugs and drama and worry about Rio and Robbie forgotten. “In your dreams.”
Jamie smirked, setting his coffee down. “Oh, I think you mean reality.”
I nudged him lightly, grinning. “You’ve got nerve, kid. I’ve been here nine years. You? Barely three. That makes me the boss.”
“Boss of what?” Jamie shoved back, laughing. “The coffee machine?”
“Exactly,” I shot back, bumping him again. “Show some respect.”
Our laughter echoed around the kitchen, bouncing off cabinets and countertops until a sleepy Robbie appeared in the doorway. His hair stuck up at odd angles, the edges of his sweatshirt crumpled as he rubbed his eyes. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Jamie and I chorused.
Robbie muttered something unintelligible, shuffling sleepily back into the hallway. He probably hadn’t even fully woken up yet, but he didn’t look scared,
Fuck, he looked cute this morning.
“I have updates on security, you want to take this coffee upstairs? I can brief Rio when his dick dries.”
The three of us headed up to the apartment, and Jamie fiddled with his laptop and the TV screen lit up with security views.
“So walk us through it again,” I said, leaning back in the sofa, as Jamie clicked through the options.
“Cameras on every corner—indoor and out. We’ve got motion sensors at every window and infrared perimeter alarms. Reinforced door locks on the main and side entrance, and the yard bay door. All connected to a central system that logs every blip. Manual override, our access. No one’s getting through unless we buzz them in.”
“Good,” I said. I needed that part to be perfect. I needed to know that if someone came for Robbie again, they’d never make it anywhere near him.
Logan asked the first question, ever practical. “What about the fire escape access?”
Jamie nodded. “Sealed. Double-locked and under camera now. Any tampering, we get alerts.”
I leaned forward. “What if someone gets past what you’ve set up—what’s the reaction time?”
Jamie didn’t hesitate. “Thirty-five seconds to full lockdown, faster if one of us hits a panic button. And those are in every room, now, even bathrooms.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t done. “And if they come for him when he’s not here? What do we have in place for extraction?”
Jamie looked at me, serious now. “Then we go to plan B.” He held up a small device, no bigger than a fingernail. “Robbie has this, it’s a tracker and we move. Fast.”
We stopped talking when Robbie came out of the bathroom. He was dressed in sweats and a Redcars T-shirt—mine by the way it hung on him, and he hovered by the door. I patted the couch and it dipped beside me as he curled into my side, his body warm and quiet against mine. He didn’t say anything, just tucked himself in like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. He still startled at noises, still scanned rooms like there was always a threat waiting—but when he was next to me like this, something eased. I felt it in him. The way he sighed into my side. The way his fingers curled into whatever I was wearing.
He was breathing easier.
“Jamie has made this place impenetrable,” I said.
But Robbie sighed. “Like a different kind of prison,” he mumbled.
Jamie turned to face him fully. “Not for long Robbie. You’re not alone in this. We will find them all.”
That made him breathe out again.
He was safe here.
Because we’d made damn sure of it.