“You broke into a man’s house, left cookies, and tried on his suit jacket. That’s not quirky. That’s folklore. That’s mobster-hunting forest sprite energy.”
I open my mouth to argue and close it.
He has a point.
“He’s not mad?” I ask quietly.
“Mad?” Enzo looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. Which, fair. “Stevie, he left the door unlocked for you. That’s mafia foreplay. That’s mob for consent.”
“What?”
“You think a man like Dario just forgets to lock his door? He wanted you to be able to get in.” Enzo shakes his head. “He probably didn’t expect you to try on his clothes, but here we are.”
“Oh my God.”
“He was pretty entertained by that part.”
“Please stop talking.”
“Especially the cologne. He said you really went for it.”
I drop my head onto the table. “I want to die.”
“No you don’t. You want fries and a firm hand on your throat.” He slides the basket over like a peace offering between feral creatures. “Eat. You look like you haven’t had a real meal in days.”
“I eat.”
“Coffee and anxiety don’t count.”
I raise my head. “You sound like Saul.”
Annoyance flickers across his face. “Your marshal?”
“He’s not my marshal. He’s just assigned to me.”
“Uh huh.” Enzo’s expression is unreadable. “He brings you stuff. Blankets. Coffee. Baking supplies.”
“How do you know that?”
“I told you. It’s my job to know.” He picks at his fries. “He cares about you. More than the job requires.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
“And you?” I ask instead. “Is this more than the job requires?”
He looks at me for a long moment.
“Dario asked me to make sure you’re safe. That’s the job.” He pauses. “Sitting here eating fries with you... that’s not the job.”
“Then why are you doing it?”
Please say it’s because you want to fuck me into a goddamn new identity. Please say that.
“That night. At your apartment. I showed up to intimidate you. Scare you into keeping your mouth shut.” His voice is quieter now. “And you looked at me like I was a person. Offered me cookies. Asked if I wanted milk.”
“You looked hungry.”
“I looked like a threat. That’s what I’m supposed to look like.” He meets my eyes. “But you didn’t see that. You saw someone who might want cookies. Who might just be tired.”
