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His expression softened. “It’s not about what I had to gain, brother.” He pushed over the envelope. “It’s about what you had to lose. I was worried about you. When you came back from Vegas all stressed and anxious, talking about ghosts of girlfriends past, I knew something was up. And I wanted to make sure that your little hostess was worth all the trouble.”
It was kind of touching, somehow, Enzo’s way of looking out for me. In the past, I'd always been the one doing that. But invading her privacy wasn't right. I had my hand poised over the envelope, ready to push it back, when a thought hit me.
Doing this could help. If there was something in these files that proved what I'd accused Briana of, then I could be free of her forever. Sure, it would still hurt. My heart would probably take some time to heal, even though I'd pretend as if it didn't bother me. But at least I'd have some closure.
I gingerly pulled the envelope toward me. “Have you looked in here?”
Enzo shook his head and took a bite of bagel. “Not yet. I didn't think you'd appreciate it if I did.”
I raised an eyebrow, impressed at his forethought. Perhaps Enzo was finally figuring out that the world didn't revolve around him.
Or maybe he just didn't want to get his ass kicked.
“Can you give me a minute?”
Enzo nodded. “There's a game on. I'll be in the living room if you need me.”
With that, he sauntered off. Enzo'd never had difficulty making himself comfortable in my home. There was a point in time where he'd been too comfortable, and I had to kick him out to get back some of my personal space. It was good to see that even if other parts of him were changing, some things were the same.
The envelope contained a few pictures and a couple receipts that I assumed the PI got from the trash. The photos were from interesting angles, like he'd taken them from up a tree or behind a fence. The man was clearly dedicated.
At first, I saw nothing out of the ordinary. Pictures of a little girl I assumed was Mikala playing in the backyard with Briana and the roommate. Pictures of Briana at work in the casino, talking to people. Pictures of Tiffany at work, grinding around a pole. It didn't surprise me to learn that Mikala's roommate was a stripper. It was a tough town to get ahead in, but if you had a good pair of tits, there was always somewhere you could get cash for them, and Tiffany had them.
The final picture was the one that set my hair on end. I gulped, mouth suddenly dry, and stared harder at the photo. It didn't change. I put the photos back in the envelope and tossed them into the recycling bin. The roaring sound of a crowd could be heard in the background as I grabbed my wallet and headed for the door. Enzo would lock up when he left, though whether or not he realized I was gone was completely up in the air.
