Chapter 11 Enzo
ENZO
My fingers play with the ring around my neck, and I force myself not to look back. I knew this moment was going to come, that we'd go our separate ways. But why do I feel odd about it?
I may have known her for less than a day, but she's grown on me. She's… unexpected. Fresh. And in my world, that's as rare as hen's teeth.
Maybe that's why I was so struck by her, and why she persists in staying on my mind. I've never met someone like her, so my brain is reacting to the novelty of it. There's nothing else to it.
Satisfied with the logical explanation, I take out the phone my driver had provided, and I dial the buyer, scheduling the meeting in less than an hour. The sooner I get rid of this cursed ring, the better I'll feel.
I still don't know if those men had been after me or the ring. But I'd better not take any chances.
Time and meeting place set up, I swing by a shop to get changed and to look more put together.
Afterwards, the exchange is swift. The moment I see the amount promised deposited in my bank account, I hand over the ring and we part with pleasantries. The buyer had wanted to remain anonymous, and so he'd sent over his personal assistant instead.
While I'd been curious about the man who'd so easily splurge six million on a mere ring, a deep, unknown anxiety makes me absentmindedly gloss over the trade, my thoughts going back to Allegra. And when we're talking six million, my mind shouldn't be anywhere but here.
Even after I leave, I still feel a nagging feeling of… something.
Visions of her being taken advantage of or lying dead in a ditch plague me the whole car ride. Her innocent eyes wide open, her lifeless body in a pool of blood…
"Fuck this!" I mutter, shaking my head. With a quick command, I ask my driver to turn the car around and head back to the ferry terminal.
I'm just going to make sure she boarded the ferry, and then I'll be able to go about my merry way. It's simply irrational, this fear I'm feeling, but no matter how much I try, I can't suppress it.
It's because she's so sheltered… so ingenuous. She reminds me of my sister, Catalina. And as a big brother, I wouldn't want anything to happen to her. Not when the experience of having that guilt on my conscience is already too heavy.
Yes, that's just it. She just appeals to my brotherly instincts. She may be my little tigress, but to anyone else she's just a lamb begging to be slaughtered. That naivete of hers is like a beacon of light for every depraved soul out there… mine included.
After I've ensured that she's well on her way home, I can put the entire episode behind me and truly move on.
When we get back to the port, the entire area is empty. I scan the surroundings, but there's no trace of her.
"Damn," I curse out loud, my eyes alert for any type of movement. I walk in circles for a bit before I decide I should just go home. A noise from a nearby barrack stops me in my tracks. I crane my neck, listening for more.
The more I near the area, the more it sounds like someone's fighting. I wrench open the door just in time to see a man kick Allegra to the floor, her forehead banging with a thud against the furniture.
My gaze goes back to the men, my fists clenching by my side.
They're dead.
Stepping inside, one man charges at me, but I easily deflect the blows and send him flying with a few punches.
Easy to pick on a little girl. Not so much on someone their size.
The second man, the one who dared to put his hands on her, steps forward, and a punch comes directly for my face. I easily dodge, moving to the right, before using my foot to break his equilibrium by breaking his knee. He topples to the ground, his mouth a hard line of pain.
I don't hesitate as I kick him again, my tibia making contact with his mandible. The blow makes him reel back, blood spattering across the floor.
I move swiftly as I tug Allegra to her feet.
"Come, little tigress."
She seems slightly disoriented as she squints.
"Are you okay?" I want to ask her what happened before I came, but she doesn't seem fit for any type of questioning.
She nods, and my fingers go to her head where a red spot is forming.
"You hit your head pretty badly," I say, holding myself back, not wanting to scare her even further by killing the men. Holding her closer to me, I try to take her in my arms.
"I'm fine. I can walk," she immediately replies and takes a few steps just to show me that she's capable of doing it herself. I open my mouth to say something, but I shake my head.
Not now!
Taking her hand, I lead her outside.
"Where are we going?" Her voice is barely above a whisper, and I don't doubt she's in pain. With her frail frame and what she withstood the night before, it's a wonder she's even on her feet.
I look down at her, and I feel my respect for her growing. She's taken everything in stride, barely even complaining.
"To my car." I try to carry as much of her weight as she allows, her independent streak seemingly offended if she receives help.
Opening the door to the car, I move back slightly to allow her to climb in first.
She doesn't.
She stops, raising her eyes to look at me. She moves her head to the side, looking behind us, before pushing me so hard I knock into the door.
Her mouth forms an O and a bloodcurdling scream escapes her lips as she falls into my arms, a wet red spot forming on her shirt. My eyes widen, but I'm already used to this type of scenario.
Safety first!
I take her in my arms and push myself into the backseat, quickly signaling the driver to speed off.
Her eyes are glossy, staring at me with barely any recognition. The vision I'd had before has suddenly become reality.
"Why?" I croak, the notion that she'd taken a bullet meant for me almost unfathomable.
She doesn't answer; even the few whimpers of pain from before are now muted.
I brush my hand over her already glistening forehead, and an uncomfortable weight settles in my chest. My other hand comes away covered in blood—her blood.
And I don't like it.
"Shh, I've got you." I continue to apply pressure to her wound, all the while barking commands to my driver.
We need a doctor. Fast.
The bullet seems to have hit her shoulder, and since there's no exit wound, it's still inside. That means I need someone to operate on her.
Fuck!
There are also those men, and if their attempts on my life so far are any indication, they won't stop. I have the option of taking her to my palazzo in Gozo, but I fear she won't make it that far. No… that's not an option.
Making a few phone calls, I get a surgeon to meet us at another port, a boat ready to go. The palazzo is the most secure location right now.
I rarely care if anyone lives or dies, but as I look at the tiny form in my arms, already pale from blood loss, I can't imagine her dying.
"You can't die on me," I command, even though she can't hear me. But if she doesn't listen, there will be hell to pay.
I'm barely breathing, my heart in my throat as we make our way toward the other part of the island. When we finally stop, I kick open the door and, holding tight to Allegra, dash toward the waiting vessel.
The moment I step on board, I head directly to a room downstairs. Shoving everything off a table, I carefully lay her on it.
She moans softly, and I swallow hard, almost as if I can feel her pain. But I try to banish everything from my mind. I need to act fast.
Turning around, I prepare a big bowl of water, wet a rag, and drag it over her wound to soak up the blood.
"Where is the fucking surgeon?" I yell at a man waiting outside the door.
"He'll be here soon."
With one hand, I keep pressure on the wound, while with the other I check her pulse.
"Little tigress, if you dare leave me, I'll find you in the afterlife and torment you forever. You have my word."
Her small face, weary from pain, stares back at me, no answer forthcoming.
It feels like an eternity passes before the doctor finally shows up and the boat is up and running. He asks me to step aside and starts assessing his patient.
"I need to remove the bullet. It seems to be lodged inside," he comments methodically, his eyes surveying Allegra's frail body. "She's small. Probably severely underweight."
"Is that going to be an issue?"
"It depends. It might slow down her recovery. If her body survives."
"What do you mean, if? If you want to leave with your life, I suggest you make sure she survives." I raise an eyebrow at him, already loading the gun in my hand. The doctor gulps and slowly nods.
Turning his attention toward Allegra, he administers an anesthetic. Then, he takes out a pair of scissors from his case and starts cutting at her shirt.
I tense, and before I know it, my fingers wrap around his hand, stopping his advance.
"She stays clothed."
"But—" He starts to argue, but I'm not having it. I know for a fact he doesn't need to expose her entire torso to do this surgery. Her shoulder area is enough.
"She stays clothed," I say again, this time more forcefully. He quickly nods and works on her shoulder. He disinfects the area before using a scalpel and cutting into her flesh.
I'm highly attentive, following his every move.
"The bullet is lodged in the scapula," he says at some point, using the tip of the scalpel to dig the bullet out. "It's made a mess of her muscle. I'll need to fix it," he continues, and he seems to expect me to step aside.
"Go ahead." Rooted to the spot, I continue to watch carefully everything he does. He works on connecting the tissue before finally closing her wound.
"I'm done with the wound, but she's lost too much blood. You need to take her to a hospital. She needs a blood transfusion."
My brows furrow in consternation.
"Can't you do it here?" I ask, looking at his medical kit.
"I don't have any blood with me."
"Use mine," I answer immediately, holding my arm out for him.
"W-what?" he sputters, his eyes bulging. "That's not how it's done! I need to know her blood type first, and you'd need a blood test—" he continues to ramble, looking at me like an idiot who doesn't understand science.
"We're both O negative. It's fine." I'd found that tidbit of information at the hospital, and now I'm glad for it since it might just save her life.
"But—" he begins, and my patience is running out. One glance at Allegra's almost lifeless body has me feral in my answer.
"I'm clean. See? No problem. Now, do it!
" He must understand the unspoken threat, because he rummages through his kit, removing a tube and customizing it so it's double-sided.
He quickly makes some adjustments before sticking a needle in her arm and then doing the same to me.
He fumbles with the controller until I see my blood slowly leaving me, traveling down the tube and into her body.
The intimacy of the act astounds me, a primal instinct awakening inside me as I watch her accept my blood, thereby becoming one with me.
Mine.