Free Enforcer: A Prequel Novella to the New Mafia Trilogy by E. J. Fechenda Page B

South Street were closed since it was
so late, making it easier to find parking. I stayed close by Miranda’s side as
we walked up the uneven brick sidewalk to her front door, keeping my eyes out
for any threats. We were the only ones out, aside from a bum digging through a
trash can at the end of the street.
    She unlocked her door and immediately flipped a switch,
which turned on the hallway light. I went in first, doing a quick search of
both floors, taking extra time in her bedroom, flipping up her floral comforter
to look underneath her bed. I checked inside her closet, but there were so many
clothes jammed inside, that any intruder who attempted to hide in there would
be suffocated. When I returned, Miranda was standing in the hallway with her
arms crossed over her chest and an annoyed look on her face. “All clear?” she
asked.
              “Yeah, you’re good.”
    Miranda hung her bag up on the knob at the end of the stair
railing and walked upstairs. I started to follow and she paused, looking down
at me, “I’m grabbing sheets and blanket for you and will be right back down.”
She shook her head and I heard her mumble, “Jesus Christ this is such a pain in
the ass,” as she continued her ascent. I laughed and went into the living room,
which was the first room on the left. Since I did a cursory glance before, I
took more time to really survey the space. It was decorated in muted blues and
grays. A gray suede sectional took up most of the space. Lavender colored throw
pillows that matched the drapes were tossed haphazardly along the sofa.  A flat
screen television was mounted above a bricked over fireplace on the opposite
wall. On the dark wood coffee table there were a few frames so I bent over to
peer at the photos. There was a family picture with Marco, Paulina, Miranda and
her little brother, Paulie. It was taken at the shore house on the deck and the
ocean sparkled behind them. Another picture was of Miranda with a group of
girls, each holding a drink and smiling widely at the camera.
    A creak on the floorboard alerted me to Miranda’s approach
so I straightened up and turned just as she entered the living room with an
armful of bedding. I watched as she quickly made up the sofa.
              “Okay, you’re all set. Since you gave yourself a
tour, you know where the bathroom is?” I nodded and she continued, “I don’t
have an extra toothbrush or anything.”
              “I’ll be fine, go get some sleep.”
    There was an awkward pause and Miranda hesitated like she
wanted to say something else, but instead said, “Well goodnight, Grant.”
    The upstairs hall light blinked off and I heard Miranda
moving around making noise above me. A few minutes later all was quiet. After
double checking to make sure the front and back doors were secure, I went into
the downstairs bathroom where I took a piss and found a travel size tube of
toothpaste in the medicine cabinet. Using my forefinger, I brushed my teeth.
Once back in the living room, I stripped down to my boxer briefs, setting my
Glock on the coffee table so it was within reach. I left the hall light on, but
turned off the floor lamp in the living room before crawling underneath the
covers. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of Miranda’s detergent and fabric
softener; it was definitely more feminine than what I used to.  As I lay in the
semi-darkness I knew sleep wouldn’t come. Emotions warred within me: anger
towards Marco because I knew he did something to piss someone off and rage over
the idea that someone was fucking with my girl. My girl? Fuck, where did that
come from?I tossed and turned, not that I was uncomfortable, but being
in Miranda’s home and surrounded by her scent was turning me on something
fierce.
    I gave up on the idea of sleep and instead listened to the
sounds of Miranda’s neighborhood and familiarized myself with the noises in her
house; the creaks as it settled and of water running through