Good. I felt like we were getting somewhere, and that made me feel really good.

Another thing that made me feel good? Seeing Enzo again. It almost took me by surprise. I didn’t realize the effect having him in the same room would have on me. We’d only really hung out that one night, and that was after a near-death experience. And although it was definitely an unforgettable night for a multitude of reasons, I wasn’t sure if things would transfer over onto other meetings.

But, sure enough, I felt the spark the second I laid eyes on him. It didn’t hurt that the last time we’d been together, Enzo had been on his knees and between my thighs, his tongue working circles around my dick. I was glad to find my seat as quick as I could because I knew it would be real damn hard trying to hide how excited I got over seeing Enzo again.

The interview itself was enough to keep my head focused and my cock quiet. I felt like we were finally getting answers, and I could feel the answer to this all at the very edge of my fingertips. The tattoo was a huge clue and something that helped narrow down the list of suspects.

“That’s the symbol for the Blood Scarabs, a gang that just recently started moving in and claiming territory around New York.”

“A gang?” Enzo said. He looked so cute in his stupid designer shirt and slacks. I didn’t care much for brand names or famous designers, but I did have to admit, he looked good in them. Although I suspected Enzo could wear a trash bag and still make it seem like it belonged on the cover of a magazine. “Merda.”

I wanted to echo Enzo’s statement, but I didn’t want to scare Ricardo. Because, although we were getting closer, things also just got exponentially harder. Gangs were insulated environments, hard to crack and even harder to pin down in a crime. If Luanne was actually involved with a gang member, then we were looking at an entirely different beast. A much bigger, much more lethal beast.

“Great,” Ricardo said, sinking back into his chair. He must have realized the difficulty spike as well. “How in the world are we going to get a gang member to crack?”

“It’s not impossible,” I said, coming in to do damage control. “We have a web of contacts at Stonewall that reach out far and wide. We’ll find someone who can talk. It’ll take some time, but I feel confident about where this is heading.” And I did. That was the truth. It was going to be harder than I initially thought, but I was always up for a challenge. It would keep me busy, keep me from obsessing about other things.

About Jose. About the Unicorn.

About Enzo.

“So the gang guy must have done it, then, right?”

“We’re going to follow all of the leads and see where it gets us.” I looked to Ricardo, whose fear was apparent in his big brown eyes. He was a good-looking guy, older, with crow’s feet aplenty. A warm, albeit very crooked, smile. “Please, find the person who did this. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in jail.”

I saw the turmoil in his eyes. His fate was a terrifying one. I imagined that serving time for a crime you knew you didn’t commit must have felt close to being buried alive. A certain desperation would claw at your throat, before it slowly gave up and gave room to numbness. Close to the emotions I’d felt when I lost Jose. A sense of losing yourself, like you’ve stepped to the very edge of the brink, and the pit below was endless.

“We’ll get you out,” Enzo reassured Ricardo. There was a sincere warmth in his tone and in the way he reached over and rubbed a hand on Ricardo’s back, keeping those soft amber eyes on Rick. His eyes were like no one else’s. A liquid gold, a breathtaking yellow. My favorite color, my favorite precious stone, all of it encapsulated in Enzo’s gaze. And it always changed in the light, glittering like a strip of metallic gold one second and the next appearing like a deep pool of amber. I watched him, seeing such a kind soul underneath that sharp, professionally groomed face.

I turned my eyes back to Ricardo. Something had stirred a feeling in my chest. It was a familiar sensation, but one I hadn’t felt in a long time. A very long time. And for once I was scared. I didn’t want to feel it. Nothing—I didn’t want to feel anything. I didn’t have to get involved with someone, not when this case was heating up. Too much work. There wouldn’t even be time to consider opening myself up to another man.

Two hard knocks sounded on the door, and an officer came in and pointed at her watch. “He’s done. Back to the cell.”

She grabbed Ricardo by the shoulder and pulled him up. I was about to get up when Enzo snapped. “Hey, treat him like a person, not a dog, okay?”

“You think this is how I treat a dog?” She was already turning her back to leave. “I actually like dogs.”

Enzo was about to say something else, but the cop was gone with Ricardo. I’d dealt with law enforcement my entire life, so I was a little more used to some of the shit that went down. I didn’t like it, but there wasn’t a ton of reform I could have done in that moment. Besides, I knew she had her fair share of shit thrown her way working in those halls, so that tough exterior was most likely a well-tuned survival mechanism. I had to focus all my energy on figuring out what happened to Luanne and Oscar, and hopefully that would put an end to Ricardo’s fucked-up situation. I grabbed my notepad and tugged on my coat.

“Thank you for helping set up this meeting,” I said, already half out the door. I held a hand out, which Enzo took in his. We shook but didn’t let go for a few moments even though we were as still as statues.

“Zane,” he started. I took my hand back, stuffing them both in the pockets of my coat. “Let’s, uhm, do something tonight.”

I couldn’t stop myself from arching a brow. The king of smooth was a little lacking in his game. “I’m going to get working on the case.”

“Okay, fine,” Enzo said. I thought the conversation was done there.

“How about after?” he asked, pleasantly surprising me. “It’s still early. You can work until, let’s say, eight thirty.”

“And then?”

“And then we’ll do something.”

He was recovering nicely, but I still felt like it would be smarter for me to politely decline. It wasn’t the right time. I knew what Enzo was after, and I wasn’t sure I could really give it to him. And he was a good man—he didn’t need to be wasting time.

“Sorry, Enzo. Not tonight.” I looked to his eyes, finding that beautiful golden hue that captivated me from the start. It was hard to say no to that face. Really fucking hard. But I felt like it would be the best thing for me at that point. I’d get home, jerk it off, and then focus on work. Simple as that. There were lives at stake; no need to complicate my own.

“See you, then,” Enzo said. It was my sign to turn and leave. I walked out of the station, tuning out the drunken yelling and the aggressive cursing. My car was parked outside in the lot. I noticed there was a small dusting of snow on the ground, leaving behind the footprints of everyone who had just walked in and out. I looked up, seeing the heavy gray clouds starting to disperse and make room for the sunshine.

The doors to the station opened up behind me. When they shut, they silenced the chaos that was inside. “Give me one dinner,” Enzo said, coming up next to me. “That’s it. Come on, I owe you. You saved my life.”

He was persistent, that was for sure. And that smile… goddamn that smile. No wonder he got all his clients off the hook. He just needed to flash that grin and the jury would be eating right out of his hand.

“Here, come to this address.” Enzo grabbed my hand before I could protest. He was a bold one, the cocky little asshole. I was starting to really like it. He pulled a pen from his coat and bit off the top, holding it between his teeth while he spoke and scrawled on my hand. “It’s an exclusive place, somewhere I doubt you’ve ever eaten at.”

“Why? Because I’m too poor?” I cocked my head and arched a brow.

He looked up at me as he let go of my hand. “What? No, I wasn’t even making a joke. Only a handful of people have eaten there, that’s why. It’s very limited seating. Extremely limited. Waitlist is at least four years.” Enzo scoffed. “Besides, I doubt the owner of Stonewall Investigations is scavenging for pennies under the cushions.”

I was intrigued. But also, I was getting slightly annoyed. Enzo had that ability—he knew how he could get under my skin so that he could light me on fire. “How do we have such priority seating, then?”

“I know the owner.” Enzo grinned.

“Fine.” I felt myself being reeled in by that smile of his. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Perfect. See you tonight.”

He was practically glowing. This was a side of him that never really showed in his various TV appearances. He was always charismatic, but there was a bravado that seemed to separate him from the viewer. It was one of the reasons why I thought I’d initially dislike him. An overconfidence that felt way too cocky for my tastes. But these moments, where he looked like a kid waking up to the best Christmas ever, felt very refreshing. Almost vulnerable. The moment had me smiling in return, big and wide and unrestrained.

Enzo left with a hug. I got in my car and started it, the engine purring to life. I sat there, letting the heater blast on and warm up the air around me. I looked at the palm of my hand.

Bastard even has perfect handwriting.