Enforce

by Rachel Van Dyken

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  My life flashed…

  Nixon

  Trace had left class in tears, and I knew that I'd yet again been the cause of them. If only she knew that being mean to her was ripping me to shreds from the inside out. Not only had I made a promise to Frank to leave her the hell alone, but Phoenix had been sniffing around too closely.

  He'd asked me about Trace. Again. And this time when he asked, he'd mentioned the necklace, her grandfather, and our relationship with the Alferos. It worried me to no end, because if he was smart, he'd use her as bait to draw us out. He'd use her to get to me. It would be easy to bend me to his will to get what he wanted, what his father wanted: more money and freedom. And he was angry enough to do just that.

  So telling the girl I loved that I hated her? Mooing at her in the hall? All it had done was prove to Phoenix that she was just like everyone else — a dead end. Normal.

  Not a freaking Alfero.

  Not the daughter of two slain parents.

  Granddaughter to the one Mafia boss who had a chip on his shoulder bigger than mine.

  Shit. I wiped my face with my hands.

  Class dismissed.

  I heard yelling in the hall but didn't pay attention. Instead, I picked up my phone and sent Chase quick text.

  Me: Trace left class. Check on her?

  Chase: I'll call her — but for the record, I'd just leave her alone.

  The phone almost fell out of my hands. The last thing I needed was for Chase, of all people, to tell me to back off. The last time he'd threatened me I'd given him two black eyes and chipped his tooth.

  With a sigh, I sat on the desk and waited for him to text me the okay.

  Five minutes later, my alert went off.

  And that time I really did drop the phone onto the floor.

  Chase: 911 — Batcave — Phoenix has Trace.

  I forwarded the text to Frank as fast as my fingers let me, and then I yelled, panicked. For the first time in my life — I hesitated. Not because I wasn't going to go after her, but because my feet refused to move. Breathing had suddenly become a huge chore, as if my lungs had forgotten how to function.

  I hit my own chest, sucking in the air greedily as I made my way to the door, legs like lead.

  Her face. That's what I saw.

  Her skin. That's what I felt.

  Her lips.

  Every damn part of her.

  And he had her.

  Alone.

  If he touched her, if he laid one finger on her, touched a hair on her head, I was going to murder him, and I would do it slowly. I'd extend it days, maybe even weeks, and I'd smile as his body sank to the bottom of Lake Michigan.

  People stared as I ran through the halls. I didn't even blink as I reached for the gun hidden in the back of my pants.

  Five minutes.

  It took me five damn minutes to run across campus to where Phoenix had her.

  I was going to puke.

  I'd seen some terrible things in my lifetime — but fear had been beaten out of me at a young age.

  Or so I thought.

  Chase reached the door just as I did. I swiped my card over it, but it didn't budge.

  "Shit!" I kicked it with my foot then grabbed the knife from my leg. I shoved it between the metal plates of the scanner and shorted the wires.

  The door opened.

  My breath caught in my chest as my eyes fell on Phoenix's hands as they slid up her thighs.

  A war-cry from hell erupted from my mouth.

  I went for Phoenix's throat, while Chase went for Trace.

  I didn't have time to think about what that meant. All I saw was blood — his blood — the blood I'd happily spill all over the floor.

  My hands reached for his shirt. It tore as I ripped him away from the floor and threw him against the wall with so much force that a few pictures fell to the ground and shattered.

  "I'll kill you for touching her," I spat, landing a blow to his stomach. "You low life…" I hit him again. "…piece of shit!"

  With my left hand, I punched him in the jaw. Blood spewed from his mouth as he leaned into me. My knee met his face again and again. Bones cracked. I both felt and heard them.

  Even if his body was found, they wouldn't be able to identify him. I'd make him unrecognizable then remove his teeth, fingernails, and every damn follicle of hair so they couldn't find his name — so he wouldn't have a burial. I'd send him to hell with bells on.

  I reared back and pulled the dagger from my back pocket and jammed it into Phoenix's hand as he leaned against his own knees.

  He screamed in pain.

  Pain? I almost laughed. He had no idea the pain I was going to rain down on him.

  I pulled the knife out just as Frank walked up beside me. Licking his lips, Frank nodded twice then mumbled, "Get a place ready."

  The man who'd accompanied Frank ran out the door, phone pressed against his ear.

  Phoenix slumped to the floor with a groan. I wiped the knife on my jeans and waited for Frank to assess the situation. After all, it wasn't just my honor at stake. It was his. Trace wasn't mine — as much as I wanted her to be. She was her grandfather's, so in the end, it was as much his call as it was Trace's.

  "Your decision," Frank said in a cold voice.

  "Hammer." I didn't even blink.

  Frank looked behind me, disappeared for a few seconds, then returned with a hammer.

  "You should close your eyes." I heard Chase whisper as Trace whimpered behind me.

  Frank grabbed Phoenix's hands and tied his wrists together with zip ties I'm assuming he had snagged from the cupboard where we kept… toys.

  "You look at her without asking? You lose an eye. You touch her with your dirty hands?" His accent came through thick in that moment, as if he was reverting to his roots.

  "You lose your hands," I finished for him, noticing that Frank's entire body was shaking. That's why he'd said it was my call. Nobody carried out torture when they were that close to the situation. Which meant only one thing.

  He still had no idea how deep my love was for Trace.

  If there was anyone who shouldn't be carrying out the punishment, it would be me. Because Phoenix had touched mine. He'd attacked a girl who held a piece of my freaking soul.

  And for that? I wouldn't offer forgiveness. I wouldn't allow him to repent. I'd destroy him.

  I slammed the hammer down onto his right hand then his left, shattering his knuckles on contact.

  I only stopped when Frank pushed me away from Phoenix. He'd passed out from the pain. And Trace, the love of my life…

  Had passed out in Chase's arms.