Accidentally Yours (Merffy Kizzmet) novel Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Nico 5:17 AM, HQ

The sun still hadn’t risen, but HQ was fully awake–and fully unraveling.

Luca paced like a man possessed. Leo leaned over the table, glaring daggers at a printout. Nico scrolled through surveillance hits like a machine, tapping into every possible traffic cam, convenience store feed, and ATM snapshot across the Las Vegas perimeter.

“We’re coming up dry,” Luca said, voice clipped. “No movement on the cards. His backup phone hasn’t pinged since he left the dome. Not one fucking trace

“I got something,” Nico cut in, already enhancing an image on the monitor. “Traffic cam picked up an unregistered vehicle leaving the outskirts of the Burning Man exit zone. Time stamp’s about two hours after the dome.”

He clicked the file.

The screen blinked. Then loaded a grainy photo.

A beat–up gray Toyota Tercel rolled through a red light on a dead intersection just past 3 A.M. The headlights were uneven. The front bumper was zip–tied to the frame. A dent in the passenger door looked suspiciously like it had been punched.

And inside-

“Mother of God,” Leo muttered.

Enzo. Shirtless. Windblown. Grinning like he’d just won the lottery. One arm slung over the shoulder of a petite woman in the driver’s seat.

Cherry red hair. Hoodie falling off one shoulder. A wicked smile plastered across her flushed face.

Nico enhanced the image. “Well, he doesn’t look like he’s being taken…”

“She looks like she just told the sun to eat shit,” Dom said under his breath.

Enzo looked even worse–and somehow better. Eyes glazed. Head leaned toward hers. The kind of stupid, blissed–out grin that only came from tequila, sex, or the kind of drug high that required three days of sleep and a priest.

“Zoom again,” Marco ordered.

There it was: Enzo with his fingers laced in her sleeve. No shirt. No tension. No concern. Just wrecked and radiant in the passenger seat of the sketchiest car in Nevada.

Gino, who’d been weirdly silent, made a noise like a dying animal.

Nico turned. “What?”

“That’s–holy shit. That’s Lola.”

All eyes landed on him.

“Who the fuck is Lola?” Marco demanded.

“The tattoo artist! From downtown!” Gino waved at the screen. “I–I met up with her at Burning Man! I gave her one of those glitter drinks–the same ones I gave Enzo. That’s when I lost track of him.”

“You mean the girl you invited to party,” Dom said slowly, “is the same girl he ended up half–naked in a Tercel with?”

1/3

5:43 pm

Chapter 9

“I didn’t know she took him! I didn’t even know they met!“.

Nico blinked. “So let me get this straight. You drugged your boss–accidentally–and left him alone at Burning Man. And the last known image of him alive is in a getaway car with a woman you personally brought to the festival?”

“She was wearing a fairy outfit!” Gino squeaked. “She didn’t look like someone who’d–I don’t know!”

Marco holstered his gun with a snap. “We’re done talking. We’re getting him back.”

“Should we bring backup?” Nico asked.

Dom pulled on his jacket. “Bring a damn war truck if you want. That girl’s got our Don.”

Enzo

The first thing he registered was the weight, warm. Soft, curved in all the right places.

The second was the drool. A little puddle of it, slow–dragging across his chest in lazy rebellion. Warm too, but significantly less sexy.

The third was hair. A lot of hair. Wild, tangled, and smelling faintly like orange peel, honeysuckle, and tequila regrets. It fanned across his throat like a jungle canopy, and he could feel strands tickling his chin, sticking to his neck, completely untamed.

Enzo cracked one eye open and nearly groaned.

Lola was sprawled across him like a sleep–deprived jungle cat, one leg slung high over his thigh, an arm wedged beneath his back, her entire body blanketing his like she was trying to absorb him in her sleep.

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