Enforce, Page 33

CHAPTER THIRTY

  Sexy dreams and babysitting duty. Shoot me now.

  Chase

  I dreamt of her, not in a creepy way where I was taking advantage of her, and she was loving it and then somehow she morphed into the picture of my last ex-girlfriend, and then a cow showed up and watched— No, nothing like that. I just dreamt of her smile, which to me, was just as scary.

  I didn't dream of girls' smiles.

  I dreamt of other things… other body parts, other… images. I couldn't get her out of my head, maybe because I was worried about how long she and Nixon had been gone.

  Wiping my face with my hands, I let out a few curses and decided to run to the closest Starbucks. I needed to get out.

  My text alert went off.

  Nixon: I need you to watch Trace.

  I snorted, and texted back.

  Chase: You do realize how creepy that sounds?

  Nixon: She's an Alfero.

  Holy shit! I damn-near dropped my phone onto the ground. My heart was beating so loud and fast I was afraid I was going to have a heart attack. I didn't even know what to text back, how to respond. I knew Nixon would be losing his mind. After all, she had been his best friend when they were little. Next to me and the guys, he'd kind of taken to protecting her. After her parents died, and he'd thought she died too, it seemed like he was never the same.

  Chase: Do you know for sure?

  Nixon: Short of drawing her blood…

  I let out a growl.

  Chase: You hurt her I shoot you.

  Nixon: I would never hurt her.

  Too late for that, but whatever. Great, so I was crushing on his childhood best friend, long-lost soul mate, and the greatest enemy of our family. Could my day get any better?

  Nixon: Just go to her dorm, make sure she does her homework, and let me know when she's done. I have a bone to pick with you, but I'm guessing it's more of a bone to pick with Phoenix.

  Chase: Phoenix?

  Nixon: Finding her in Tim's bed? Know anything about that?

  Shit. That couldn't be told in a text message. With a curse, I dialed his number. He picked up on the first ring.

  "Wow, must be bad if you're actually gracing me with your voice, cousin."

  "Screw off." I rolled my eyes. "And I'm just as guilty as Phoenix. He said he got a text from you to do the usual to Trace, what we do to new kids who we want to leave, so rather than have him all up in her business I took her and—"

  "Please tell me you didn't set her up. Please tell me that she really was acting out like a drunk college student and accidently found herself in the quarterback's bed."

  "Nixon." My eyebrows furrowed. "Dude, you told us to. Or you told Phoenix."

  Nixon started yelling so loud I had to pull the phone from my ear. When he finally calmed down, he wasn't even speaking in complete sentences; a mixture of Italian and English rolled off his tongue in waves. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

  "A lot of things," I muttered, "Look, I had no reason not to believe him, and it's not like we haven't done that before. You know just as much as I do she doesn't belong in our world."

  "Doesn't mean we have to destroy every shred of dignity she has in order to keep her out of it, Chase."

  "Nixon—"

  "No… your punishment is to babysit. No complaining, and I swear to all that is holy, if you touch her — even by accident — I'm cutting off your hands."

  "What if she falls?"

  "Then you sure as hell better hope she lands on a tree branch instead of your arms. I mean it, Chase. This isn't over. I'll deal with Phoenix later tonight. Just head over to her dorm, play nice, and try not to talk her out of her clothes."

  "Yeah." I bit down on my lower lip. "Nixon, I honestly didn't know. I'm sorry, man. You know I'd never intentionally hurt her."

  He sighed heavily on the other end. "Sometimes, I wish you would… I wish you were the type of guy who'd just stay away, but that's not in your nature. You aren't that guy. You like her."

  It was a statement not a question.

  "So do you."

  More silence.

  "Just…" He cursed again. "…play nice and text me when she's done."

  "Right."

  He hung up, and I stared at the wall of my dorm for a good three minutes before I finally made my way over to the girls. How the hell was I supposed to act normal when I knew that Nixon was… number one: losing his shit, and number two: struggling with his feelings big time. And number three? I'm feeling the exact same way.

  I knocked on the door.

  Trace opened it, her big brown eyes widening a fraction of an inch before a blush stained her cheeks. Damn, was it wrong to be hopeful that I had that effect on her? Because she sure as hell had a similar effect on me.

  Her rich brown hair swept beneath her shoulders effortlessly, her full lips curved into a shy smile, and I wondered how many guys had touched those lips. Had Nixon? Bastard. I'd kill him with my bare hands. I was just about to say something when Mo yelled my name.

  "Hey, Mo," I called back and winked at Trace. "Hey, Trace."

  She crossed her arms. "Nixon send you?"

  "Yup."

  "You staying?"

  "Yup."

  "You gonna say anything but yup?"

  I placed my hands on the doorframe and leaned forward. If I went any further, I'd be kissing her. "I'm not much of a talker. I'm more of an action sort of guy."

  "Bet you are." She nodded, her grin spreading like I wasn't dead-serious about taking her against the closest wall. "Please come in. Make yourself at home in our lovely prison."

  "It's not prison." Monroe rolled her eyes. "Nixon just wants to make sure you're safe, and although I could probably kick a couple asses on our floor, we'd be screwed if the football team decided to pull a prank on us."

  Yeah, good one, Mo. More like guns and knives, but sure we'll go ahead and say we're terrified of the tiny football team and their small man-parts.

  "And why would they pull a prank on us?" Trace asked, interrupting the silent battle between me and Mo.

  "You're the shiny new thing. Who wouldn't want to play with you?" I shrugged. "I know if I had the chance to—"

  "I think it's safe to say I know where that sentence was going to end." She held up her hand.

  "Oh yeah?" I plopped down on her bed and put my hands behind my head. "And how's that?"

  "With my shiny new boots up your ass." She smiled sweetly.

  "Damn." I already needed to adjust myself after being in her presence less than five minutes. That had to be a record. Damn Nixon.

  "What?" She pulled out her notebook.

  I sighed. "Nixon's a lucky bastard."

  "Huh? Why?" The girl was either clueless or stupid.

  Then again, I'd never met a girl who was so unaware of the effect she had on the male species. It was like she had no idea she was gorgeous. No flipping clue that, by just looking at her, I was ready to lose my mind. And it wasn't just that. She was one of those people who made you… feel. Yeah, I felt when I was around her, and, like an emotionally starved lunatic, I kept crawling back for more, because in our business it was rare to feel — anything. Maybe that's why Nixon was attracted. Maybe his attraction was all physical, whereas mine? It felt different, because she was different. Hell yes, I wanted her, but I also just wanted to sit by her and soak in her goodness. Maybe in doing that, the bad days would stop being so bad.

  I shook the thoughts from my head and grinned. "I was never good at keeping my hands to myself though."

  Mo came alive at that. "Chase, don't. It's like a death wish, just… don't."

  Yeah, got that message loud and clear.

  "You won't always be around, Mo," I snapped.

  "No, but if you touch what belongs to the devil, he'll probably damn your soul, just saying. And if you want a part of the business when you graduate, you need to be on your best behavior."

  I cursed. She was right.

  "Right. So that was a weird conversatio
n. I'm just going to work on my paper." Trace turned her back on us, which was good since I was mouthing the word bitch to Mo while she flipped me the bird and rolled her eyes.

  Trace quietly worked on her homework while I closed my eyes, not really sleeping, but needing to give them a rest since every single movement she made caused them to strain in her direction.

  See? I was losing my mind.

  It had almost been three hours. I sent a quick text to Nixon to let him know it was safe to visit now that she was probably almost done with homework. Finally, I succumbed to a catnap only to have a textbook land near the family jewels, almost castrating me.

  "Shit! What did you do that for?"

  "Fun. It was fun. And I'm finished, so you can go. I have done all my homework in peace because of you."

  She walked to the door and opened it. She pointed to the not-so-empty hall, while keeping her stare on me.

  I laughed and didn't budge. Nixon had his hand up to knock and a confused look on his face.

  Trace stomped her foot. "Chase! I mean it. You don't have to stay—"

  "He's just doing what I told him to," Nixon said from the door. "You done with your paper?"

  She sent me a glare, and then her eyes widened as if a light bulb had turned on in that pretty head of hers.

  Soon, clothes were flying, and I was staring at her ass pointing into the air as she rummaged through the small closet. Psychotic break? Because of Nixon? Wouldn't be the first time.

  "Mo, your friend has officially lost it," I whispered under my breath.

  "Trace." Nixon walked up behind her and placed his hands on her hips.

  Damn him.

  "Trace."

  I flinched as his lips grazed her ear. When I looked at Mo, she merely shrugged as if to say "Told ya so."

  "What are you doing?" he asked, his body shielding her from my stare.

  She hung her head. "Looking for hidden cameras."

  "What kind of guy do you take me for?" He flipped her around and braced her shoulders.

  "The kind that carries guns and sends his friends to babysit me at my own dorm. The kind that knows the minute I'm done with my paper and magically appears at my door. That kind."

  Nixon burst out laughing. "Wow, sometimes you are just too much." He reached into his back pocket.

  She backed away as if she was afraid he was going to pull a gun on her. I had to admit the thought bore merit. What would a little Alfero do? Would it trigger something? Hell, she had Frank's blood running through her veins. That son of a bitch was scary on a good day. I couldn't imagine what he was like on a bad day.

  "Ever seen one of these?" Nixon flashed her his cell. "Chase texted me ten minutes ago and said you were close to being done."

  "He was sleeping. He—"

  "Is a light sleeper and was under strict instructions to tell me when you finished."

  "Why?" She crossed her arms. "So you could send in the next shift? Who's it gonna be this time? Tex? Phoenix?"

  The name Phoenix had Nixon's entire body tensing. Ah, I knew that stance well. Phoenix was going to have to dig his own grave, which meant I was guilty by association and was going to most likely get the shit beat out of me later that evening. Awesome.

  "You done?"

  "Yes, but—"

  "Thanks, Chase. See ya later." Nixon pulled her out of the room so fast I didn't even have time to say goodbye. The door slammed after them, blanketing me and Mo in silence.

  "So…" She crossed her arms. "…spill."

  "Spill?" I chuckled. "Aw, cute. You wanna gossip. I can make popcorn. PS, are all things big in Texas because I heard that when you and Tex—"

  She threw a pillow in my face then, honest-to-God, pulled out one of her knives and flashed it in front of me.

  I groaned. The girl was a knife throwing lunatic and a hell of a lot better than most men I knew. "Fine, put the knife down."

  Grinning, she shoved the weapon back under her pillow and leaned back against the wall., Her naked feet hung over the bed. "Do you know what's going on?"

  "Well…" I mimicked her movements, leaning my head against the opposite wall. "…your roommate's a legend."

  "Legend?"

  "Yeah… she's an Alfero."

  Mo's eyes widened. "Shut up."

  "I will not." I sent her a mock glare. "Pretty sure that means she's the granddaughter to Mr. Frank Alfero… you know, the one that makes grown man shit their pants? That Frank."

  "He's retired."

  "Ha!" I barked out a laugh. "He's very much active. A boss never retires, you know that, Mo. To retire means you get a bullet to the head and dipped in holy water."

  "So…" She let out a sigh. "…does she know who she is?"

  "Doubtful, I mean, she'd have to be the best actress on the planet. Have you seen that girl blush? You can't just force a reaction like that." I licked my lips, wishing I was licking hers.

  "Well… sucks to be you."

  "Huh?"

  "You like her, Nixon likes her. You do realize that in this little scenario there is no way in hell you're coming out on top."

  "Aw, Mo, that's okay. I don't need to be on top all the time. I can let the girl do some work…"

  She rolled her eyes. "Disgusting. You're my cousin. Be mature. And you know it's true… now that he has her back."

  "He's changed… she's changed," I defended. "And she's a big girl. If she wants him, fine, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to put up a fight. He's the worst type of person for her."

  "What?" Mo snorted. "And you're the best?"

  "I'm not boss." I shrugged. "I don't have a bounty on my head. I'm more normal than Nixon will ever be. So yeah, I am the best, and I can still take care of her."

  Mo frowned and glanced out the window. "You should tell Tex and Phoenix."

  "Not my job." I rolled off the bed and stood. "Nixon will deal with it. For now, I'm going to go back to my dorm, sleep off the scent of that gorgeous girl, and pray Nixon wakes up disfigured from lack of sex."

  "Wow, such a good friend." Mo laughed.

  "The best." I held open my arms.

  With an eye roll, she pushed off the bed and launched herself into them.

  "Love you, Mo."

  "Love you too, Chase."