The Enforcer (Men Who Thrill Book 1) by Kaye Blue Page A

us before I slowed and found a secluded spot on a dark corner. Once there, I rummaged in my pockets for two of the essential tools of my particular trade: hand sanitizer and baby wipes.
    With a few efficient swipes, my hands were squeaky clean, and after that, I filled my palm with a generous amount of sanitizer, loving that familiar sting of the alcohol as it dried against my skin. A few of my associates—I didn’t have friends—found it odd that I always carried both, thought that maybe I was a secret germaphobe or something. That wasn’t the case; my knuckles were heavily calloused, and at this point, it would likely take a knife to pierce that rough skin, so disease was barely a faint concern, although I’d never bothered to explain that to them.
    And the fact was, baby wipes were a gift to criminal kind. Once, years ago, after I’d just gotten into the job, I’d done some work on a bleeder, and by the time I’d finished, my hands and wrists were covered with blood. So there I’d been, looking like I’d just tried to kill someone, which I had, with no way to clean up. The four-block walk to a safe house had been the longest of my life; I’d been certain that at any moment a cop, a rival, or a concerned citizen would jump me. I’d made it, but hadn’t been caught like that again, so I counted the experience a valuable lesson. That none of my colleagues ever thought far enough ahead to wonder what would happen if they were caught covered in some mark’s blood only helped solidify why they were all headed to prison or an early grave.
    I was too; there was no retirement at the end of my career track, but I sure as fuck wouldn’t make it that easy.
    The hand sanitizer, though, that was another matter. It served a purpose and was useful, but it was mostly a personal quirk. Using it was my own little ritual, tantamount to clocking out, and as I rubbed it into my hands, I always let my mind drift, tightened the reins on the enforcer and let the other me, what little there was left, come out.
    And then, by the time the sanitizer was dry, I had my human face on and went out into the world. One last stop, and then I could indulge in the one pleasure I had in life.
    ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
    I walked into the club, the party in full swing, the screams and laughter of revelers making the walls throb, and headed back to see the boss, greeting others as I moved.
    “It went well?” he said when I finally reached him.
    “Fine,” I responded.
    My boss nodded; the question was mostly a formality. I always did my job well.
    “Good. Do you think he’ll pay?” he asked.
    “If he makes it, he will.”
    “I don’t know why they haven’t figured out how much easier this would be if they just paid and saved you the trouble,” he said.
    I shrugged. “Everybody thinks they can beat the system.”
    “But you prove them wrong,” he replied, a grim expression on his face.
    Most wouldn’t recognize it as a smile, but it was as close as he would come to one. Except when she was around. Even then he was restrained, rightly concerned with her safety, me being one of his only associates allowed to be around her on a few rare occasions. But still, his caution aside, I’d seen a change in him. Not a softening; that was impossible, for him and for me, but he was different now. Maybe a little calmer. More like a man with something to lose, a man with something worth fighting for.
    I envied him. I’d never much considered how entirely empty my life was, but seeing him, seeing the way he was with her showed me what I’d been missing.
    “Have you given any thought to what I asked?” he said, interrupting my wandering thoughts.
    “I don’t need to. It’s not for me.”
    He nodded and then let the subject drop. He probably knew me well enough to know that I wouldn’t be swayed, and that ability to know what fights to pick and when had served him well, was more than part of the reason why he’d managed to maintain his position for so