Enzo (Jinx Tattoos 1)

“Be there in ten.” Snake disconnected

Enzo then peered over at the little girl, entranced with the baby gym she was toying with. This would be the defining moment. He scooted down onto the floor beside her. “Maybe you can be my payment for wading through ankle-high sewage growing up. What do you think about that?” he asked softly. She was spotless. A pure soul that seemed to be offered up to him. “I just know that taking care of you is what I’m supposed to do.” He ran the tip of his index finger over her tiny digits.

A knock came at the door. Showtime. He hurried to the door, ready to hear the verdict. “Hey, man, thanks for coming over,” Enzo said.

“Didn’t want to talk over the phone. Cops always have a hard on for us. We never know when the lines are clear.”

“Hell of a way to live,” Enzo said.

Snake shrugged. “You get used to it.” He glanced down. “Look at her. She’s doing well.”

“Yeah, man, she’s a trooper,” Enzo rep

lied, unable to hide the pride he felt.

“We found the mom. She was discovered in the forest last night. They said she’d been dead for two hours.”

“Shit. What was the cause?”

“H, man.”

“Shit, heroine?” Enzo asked.

“Yeah, it’s rampant. Cops didn’t give a shit when it was just homeless, thieving junkies, but it’s moving into the middle class, and rich kids. Motherfuckers are shooting up and crashing their cars with their kids in the back.” Snake shook his head. “I don’t get what would possess someone to even try the shit. It’s bad news.”

He blinked, trying to process. They’d both lost their mother to heroine in the same woods. “Are they looking for Aoife?”

“No. They suspect she’d given birth less than three months ago, but they have no records. All this shit must’ve been under the table. Maybe it was a john’s or she went to a free clinic and used a false name. Can’t say. Junkies don’t think rationally.”

“Understatement,” Enzo said.

“It’s sad, but good for you. We can move ahead with the paperwork if your mind is still set.”

“One hundred percent committed,” Enzo stated without hesitation.

“I’ll get it worked out. Here.” He handed Enzo a few pages of paper. “This is all the info you’ll need on Margaret Simpson, aka Maggie. She’s claiming Aoife. It’s her rights that’ve been signed away, and we’ve backed it up with a midwife who’s a friend of the club. The paper trail is tight as a drum. I’ll be sending you a manila envelope full of shit, such as Aoife’s date of birth, but first we need to get her to the doctor and test her for blood types, and all that other good shit.”

“When?” he asked.

“Now ... if you want this wrapped up this weekend. We have a clinic that turns a blind eye.”

The power the club had to wield stunned him. “Let me, uh, get her ready to go.”

“Fuckin’ Mr. Dad over here. Where’s the old lady?” Snake inquired.

“Still deciding.”

“She going to be a problem?”

“No. She can keep her mouth shut. It’s being involved firsthand that has her questioning things.”

He nodded his head. “She has to be all in or all out. No half stepping in this.”

“She knows,” he said, hell bent on defending her. The club didn’t do loose ends.

“Make sure.”

“She grew up in Belfast. Her father had ties. She knows the life.”