Page 6 of Fallen Rook

“Hello, Enzo.”

Not this son of a bitch again. What was he doing here?

Chapter Two

Enzo

Supervisory Special Agent Rothwell had been all over my ass for the past three years, clingier than an XS condom. I mean, sure, he was tasked with bringing my family down, and I was the enforcer. But I liked to refer to him as my stalker, since he seemed to concern himself specifically with me. I literally couldn’t take a piss without his Clark Kent face and nerdy, thick-rimmed glasses popping into my vision.

He was always there, skulking around, watching me from a rearview mirror, the front of a coffee shop, behind the warm towels rack at my gym’s sauna.

Maybe he wasn’t here for me this time? Maybe he was gay…? I mean, he could be. The only boner I knew Tom Rothwell to have was for imprisoning the Ferrantes, though. Which obviously meant we weren’t exactly chummy.

But why would he follow me to a random club? He knew me better than to expect I’d flay a victim in front of an audience.

My lungs squeezed out their remainder of measly air as the graveness of the situation dawned on me.

The straitlaced federal agent had just killed the dude who tried to blackmail me.

With his bare hands.

And didn’t so much as blink.

In fact, he continued looking calm, self-possessed, and completely unfazed by the entire ordeal.

Maybe I was just imagining it?

I looked down. Cash was still here. Still dead.

I pinched my own wrist. Hard. Glanced between Agent Rothwell and Cash again.

This wasn’t a hallucination, or a nightmare. This was real.

What in the ever-loving fuck?

This was a bad, bad time for my dick to suddenly wake up. Nonetheless, I realized I was painfully hard, my pulse thumping against the side of my cock.

Adrenaline. It was just the adrenaline. And those steel blue eyes.

No. Not the eyes, Enzo.

Snapping into action, I tucked myself in, pulled up my sweatpants, and slipped my hand into my pocket to rearrange myself.

“I’m talking to you,” Tom said in his haughty, princely tone.

“Hey, bro.” I crouched, prying Cash’s phone out of his pocket and casually slipping it into my hoodie’s pocket. “Thanks for the help. That was…”

Heroic.

Brave.

Romantic as fuck.

“…pretty dope,” I finished lamely. I still couldn’t compute what just happened. The surreal last few minutes slowly worked their way into my conscience.

“He was a risk to a member of the public,” Tom drawled in contempt, stepping back from me. The patronizing scowl of a villain headmaster at a wizarding school returned to his face. A face that was rather stunning.

The motherfucker was hot, and not in the same way I was.