Take Me Apart (Vitale Brothers Book 1)
Take Me Apart: Chapter 7

My feet hurt so damn bad I wanted to cut them off and toss them into the dumpster. I trudged up the walk to my front door and let myself inside, the mail in my hands as I sorted through it and ultimately tossed the entire stack onto the kitchen counter. Fuck bills. I didn’t want to think about how depressing it was that I made so damn little I was struggling in the city.

“Meow!”

Reaching down, I scooped Penelope up into my arms. He rubbed against my face, whiskers and fur going all over. I swiped the mess off of my skin, spitting it out of my mouth and groaning.

“Yes, thank you, Penelope. Thank you.” I carried him into the living room, which was really just an extension of the kitchen, and froze. “What the fuck?”

When I left in the morning, my dirty apartment had been put on the list as something I needed to deal with when I returned. There were clothes strewn all over the floor, trash everywhere, and something that smelled suspicious somewhere in the kitchen, but I hadn’t been able to replace it in the three minutes I had before snagging my coffee tumbler and bolting from the door. Now? It was pristine, like the day I’d moved in. But better.

The smell of bleach burned my nostrils as I walked through my apartment, and I crinkled my nose. Dropping Penelope off on the couch, I ducked my head into the bathroom and found the source of the offensive aroma. My bathroom was probably cleaner than it had ever been. I stormed into my bedroom next, anger and fear coursing down my spine in equal measure.

“What the fuck?”

There, on my pillow, laid neatly as if I was in a hotel room, was a note. I snatched it up and stared at the bold, straight lettering. Maybe next time.

My stomach lurched. I reached out, my hand grabbing for something to stabilize myself with. Instead, it flew into the dresser, knocking off a plethora of old memories to the floor below. I sucked in a deep breath as the truth dawned on me.

Enzo had been inside my home.

A crazy, murderous, blood-thirsty mobster had been in my goddamn home. The fear was quickly replaced as fire coursed through my veins. I snatched up my laptop and typed on it, logging into the program connected to the cameras I’d installed.

Clicking through a few times, I finally stopped when I saw him walking into my place. Penelope hopped up beside me, purring and brushing against me with his long, fluffy tail until I gathered him into my lap and glared at the screen. A familiar scent tugged at my brain, but I brushed it away as I watched him.

He’d been all through my apartment, cleaning, straightening, and moving stuff around like a damn psychopath! The camera feed cut in and out. It hadn’t even alerted me that he’d been inside! My grip on Penelope tightened, and I ground my teeth as I watched him pick up my cat and disappear into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, he came out with Penelope wrapped in a towel, drying him off. I stabbed my finger onto the space bar and shoved that same finger against my eyelid.

I was going to murder Enzo Vitale. The bastard had been invisible for almost a week. In all that time, I’d glanced over my shoulder and worried that I would run into him. Every tall, dark-haired man that eclipsed my vision made me think it was him back to fuck with me, but it was never him. So, why the hell did he suddenly pop up now?

I looked Penelope over, my stomach still twisted into knots. He could have hurt him. Okay, Enzo hadn’t done anything to my cat, but he could have. And even if he didn’t, he had violated my space without a second thought. And for what? To clean?

Goddamn crazy person.

I kissed Penelope’s head and shoved a hand into my pocket, searching for my phone. As soon as I had it, I stabbed the contact name of my old friend and waited for her to pick up.

“Yo, Texas! How the hell are you?”

I grimaced. “No one calls me that but you,” I muttered.

“Yeah, I know. It still gets under your skin, doesn’t it?” She chuckled, and I heard the familiar sound of her fingers flying over the keys. “What’s up?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You still doing security?”

“You bet your sweet, plump ass,” she said. “Why?”

“I need someone to install a security system in my apartment. I’m renting, so I don’t need a bunch of wires and shit, and my landlord can’t know about it. Think you can do it?”

“Piece of cake,” she purred. “When do you need it by?”

“Tomorrow?”

Chelsea choked, and I imagined it was on one of those energy drinks she liked to chug. “Tomorrow? That’s short notice. You know it’ll cost you, right?”

“I thought we were friends?”

“My friends call me more often,” she said. “And do shit with me. This sounds more like a client needing a last-minute job. It’ll cost you,” she repeated.

“How much?”

“Fifteen hundred.”

“Shit,” I swore. “Why is it so much?”

“Because my shit is good, and I’m better,” she said. I could hear her smug grin. “And I know you, Tex. You don’t want that cheap internet crap you slap up on a wall and only half-records when it wants to.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” I searched my brain, trying to figure out if I even had that much money to spend. “What if we go out? Grab something to drink? Do you think you could shave off…five hundred bucks?”

She was quiet for a minute. “I could use a wingman. Meet me at 7th Circle in an hour?”

“Blu,” I said quickly. “Let’s go there.”

“Bet, Blu it is. See you in an hour.”

We hung up, and I turned back to the laptop. Enzo had been on a mission, looking over my stuff and then getting to work like he lived here. I hadn’t seen him in days, but at that moment I could swear I still smelled his cologne.

I stood at the bar as music pulsed around me. My heart was throbbing a little too hard, pounding in my ears and drowning the music out. Why the hell did I come back here? There were a thousand clubs in New York, but I’d picked the one that housed Enzo Vitale.

There’s something wrong with me.

“Tex! Over here!”

I cringed as she shouted my name. My head whipped around as I tried to see if anyone was looking at me, but everyone was in their own worlds. I glanced back at Chelsea. Her dark purple hair was up in two round puff balls on either side of her head. Even in the dark, her piercings glowed a neon green. We’d had matching piercings at some point, but I’d taken mine out before I joined the academy. I missed them.

“There you are.” She grinned at me. “Hey, can I get a Sidecar over here!” she bellowed toward the cute blonde behind the counter. “And an uh…”

“Beer,” I supplied. “Whatever you’ve got in a bottle. Surprise me.”

The woman pulled a face as if I’d just asked her to spit on me. I didn’t give a damn. I didn’t need a fancy drink right now. What I needed was something to take the edge off and was within my budget. If there was one thing I knew about Chelsea, it was that she was going to make this hurt. At least I’d get a great security system for a steal.

We took our drinks and moved away from the bar. Not that there was much room to move. We slid through the crowd together until we were in an area with a little more space. Chelsea sipped on her Sidecar, a smile on her face as she adjusted her dark red dress and pushed a springy curl of hair out of her face.

“You look good,” I said.

Chelsea lit up and shoved dainty fingers against my chest. “Awww, thanks, Texas. It’s been a while since I’ve gone out. I wasn’t even sure if any of this.” She gestured to herself. “Worked.”

I grinned. “Have you seen you? Trust me, it’s working.”

Her bright, beaming grin made me feel better about the bullshit I was currently dealing with. Chelsea had always been able to drag a smile out of me. We’d grown up together since middle school. And while I had chosen law enforcement, Chelsea stuck to what she knew; technology, security, and selling information to the right people for the right amount of money.

She was a badass. I admired her.

“What do you think about the blonde?” she asked, nodding toward the woman behind the bar. “Short hair, nice build. I bet she has a hell of a grip.”

I groaned. “To choke you?”

“Just a little!” she said. “Come on, look at her.” She stared at her prey, a dark gleam in her eye. “I bet she’s got a twisted side.”

Laughter rumbled out of my chest, and for the first time tonight, I felt like I wasn’t going completely insane. “There’s something wrong with you.” I pointed out to her. “Seriously wrong.”

“Don’t act like you’re not into some messed up shit,” she said, grinning at me. “I was there for your high school whore days.”

My face flushed, and I rubbed the back of my neck while she cackled. She wasn’t wrong. Back then, I was all about falling into whatever bed was the closest. Men, women, folks in between and outside of those classifications altogether, they were all ripe for the fucking. I’d slowed down since I entered the academy. Things were hard enough trying to work without mixing in messy entanglements.

“You talk about me like you’re not just as bad,” I pointed out.

She grinned. “I never said that. Being whores is one of many reasons we get along so well.” Chelsea elbowed me fondly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. Sorry my head’s been up my ass.”

“No big deal. I know you’ve had a lot of stuff on your plate.” She shrugged. “We both have.”

I pulled her into a hug and forgot about the weight on my shoulders. She wrapped warm arms around me, and I wanted to stay just like that, feeling comfort for the first time in years. When we pulled away, she tilted her head at me, reached up, and swiped at my eyes.

“Are you okay?” Chelsea whispered. “You’re…crying.”

I quickly dragged my arm over my eyes and made the tears disappear. Fucking embarrassing. Tilting up my beer, I drained the rest of it. Maybe this was why I didn’t hang out with my friends anymore. They made me vulnerable where I’d built a wall around myself to protect me from all the crap in my life.

“Long day,” I answered shortly. “Now, what about the bartender? How do you want to do this?”

Chelsea searched my face, and I saw the way her eyebrows drew together. The concern on her face made me shift from one foot to the other. I prayed she would let it die. Something must have made her come to the conclusion to let it go because she didn’t press me.

“I want to talk to her, but she’s working.” She frowned. “Do you think it’ll be enough if I stare at her all night and wait until she gets off?”

I groaned. “You can’t pick someone else to go after? There’s a ton of other women here.”

“Yeah, but I’m already staring at her.”

I grinned and shook my head. “Fine, we’ll wait around. Okay?”

Chelsea lit up, her big eyes sweeping to the bar and back. She glanced up, and then her eyes settled on me. “Um, I think someone’s staring at you.”

“Me?” I asked. “No thanks, I’m not into it.”

She nudged me. “He’s still staring.”

I turned around to see what she was going on about and froze. Standing above me was Enzo Vitale. The look on his face wasn’t the calm, collected expression I’d seen last time. It looked like he was getting ready to burst a blood vessel. Our eyes locked, and he didn’t glance away even for a second.

Something inside of me stirred.

“Let’s get out of here, Chel,” I said as I turned back to her. “We’ll come around another night. Hopefully, it won’t be as busy, and you can talk to the bartender.”

She sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s crowded as shit in here.” Her gaze flickered up to Enzo and back to me. “Sure you don’t need to take care of that?”

I grinned. “I thought I’d want to, but you know what? It’s better to leave it where it is.” I draped an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go to a little hole in a wall somewhere and get fucked up. Tomorrow’s my day off.”

She rolled her eyes. “You just want free work.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Hell yes!” She frowned. “But I could use another drink.”

“Atta girl,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”

We moved through the heavy crowd together while the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Even without turning around, I knew Enzo was staring me down. Everything in me screamed to glance over my shoulder, to take one last look, but I forced myself to keep moving.

I needed to get that security system installed. And then I needed to take Enzo apart piece by fucking piece.