Enforce, Page 52

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Stalker alert

  Nixon

  I checked my phone religiously.

  It was getting ridiculous. Every damn time the thing went off, my breath caught in my throat, my heart pounded, I started to sweat — I needed a vacation or maybe just her.

  What I got?

  Tex.

  The worst type of punishment, hearing him talk about Mo like she wasn't my sister and being forced to block out every single noise that came from her room at the house when she said she was doing homework.

  Yeah, poly-sci homework didn't get me that worked up.

  It shouldn't her either, damn it. I was just itching to end Tex's life on account that he knew his story wouldn't end pretty and her heart? Just another broken one I'd have to deal with.

  I'd been staying at my house more and more, not because I wanted to Every damn inch of the place reminded me of my father. But staying on campus meant that I would possibly run into Trace, and I didn't trust myself enough not to charge toward her and apologize for being such an ass.

  Chase updated both me and Frank on a daily basis.

  And with every update, I got sicker and sicker. One week he sent me pictures of them eating ice cream at her dorm, and I almost lost it. I threw my phone against eh wall, shattering it on contact.

  Over ice cream.

  She was happy, so I should be happy.

  But she was happy with him. Not me. Therefore, I was pissed. Always pissed.

  Phoenix hadn't made things better. After our little falling out in the hallway, he'd refused to answer any of my phone calls or texts. Finally, he agreed to meet with me and hand over any information he could glean from his father about the shady deposit into their account.

  What we both discovered wasn't pretty.

  It linked them to some unknown family in Sicily.

  Which meant it had to be a well-known family, who was pulling a lot of strings and paying De Lange a lot.

  But why?

  Phoenix had no idea.

  And it seemed like the deeper we dug, the worse it became.

  Not to mention that Phoenix had more bruises on his neck. He looked like hell. When I offered him a place to stay, he flipped me off and left the same way he'd come… broken.

  I couldn't help but feel like a storm was brewing, like my entire life had led up to this moment, and I was somehow missing something huge.

  Things were calm.

  Too calm.

  And in my line of work, calm could only mean one thing. A storm was coming… fast.