16. Isa #3
Elio got into position, his arms relaxed by his side, but his stance wasn’t. He never moved his eyes away from them, ready to spring. His breathing seemed to have changed—slower, more deliberate. I'd never seen him like that before, and it terrified me.
“Last chance,” Elio said, his voice unnervingly calm. “Walk away, and I'll let you keep your kneecaps.”
They didn’t take the chance. They all came at once.
Elio moved, too, jumping on the one with the knife first. My eyes strained in the dim light, trying to see where Elio was, but it was hard.
I could hear a few grunts, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and then a thud as a body hit the ground.
I flinched, and for one quick second, I thought it might have been Elio, but no.
It was the man with the knife. He was out cold on the ground.
And Elio got his knife.
Dark liquid seeped onto the concrete, and I covered my mouth, trying hard not to lose it just as Elio turned to the other two.
He went after the tallest one, ramming his elbow into the man’s face until blood splattered out from his nose, before turning to the shorter, smaller man, ramming the knife into the side of his neck.
He pulled the knife out with quick precision, and the man crumpled to his knees, clutching at his throat as blood spurted out from between his fingers.
I couldn’t look away.
I told myself to. I knew the image was going to haunt me for many, many nights, but I just couldn’t look away.
The tall man backed away, his eyes wide with horror. “You’re fucking crazy!”
He tried to run. He wasn’t quick enough.
Elio advanced on him, moving with the lethal grace of a trained killer. The knife glinted in his hand, dark with blood. “You threatened her. You don't get to walk away from that.”
He kicked the back of the man’s knee until he buckled, and he was down. He didn’t hesitate as he stepped on the man’s kneecap. I jumped when the man let out a bloodcurdling scream that would definitely star in my nightmare tonight, just as Elio gave the other knee the same treatment.
Nausea teased my throat.
Elio pulled the man up, moved behind him, and slit the knife across his neck. I did close my eyes then.
This was a side of Elio I'd never seen—the trained killer, the man who’d risen to his position in the De Luca family, not just because of his name, but because of what he was capable of. There was no hesitation in his movements, and there was no remorse in his eyes.
It was a side of him that I never wanted to see again, even if I knew it was who he was, even if I had accepted this part of him.
The body dropped to the ground with a thud, and I opened my eyes then.
Elio was looking at me with a worried expression on his face.
We didn’t say anything. He probably didn’t know what to say to me that would erase what I had just witnessed, and I didn’t know what to say to him because… what would I say?
Congratulations?
The thought was so ridiculous, I nearly laughed. I must really be losing it now.
Movement from behind Elio caught my attention. I watched in horror as the man—the first man he took out—suddenly stood up, another knife in hand.
And he was running toward Elio.
“Watch out!” I screamed.
But it was too late. I could only watch as the man plunged the knife into his back.
Elio grunted in pain and tried to push the man off, but he was relentless.
I ran over to the metal trash bin cover and picked it up, running to the man.
“No!” Elio shouted.
He didn’t have to worry. I never reached the man in time. Someone pulled him off Elio’s back. A flash of movement came too fast for me to make sense of what was happening before the man was suddenly back on the ground, motionless.
Romeo stood there, taking in the scene, then us, before rushing over to Elio, who was now kneeling on the ground. I did too.
“Fuck, brother. How’d you let this fucker stab you?” Romeo said, his voice light, as if he was trying to keep me from freaking out. It wasn’t working.
“A-Are you… are you o-okay?” I asked. The words were barely coming out.
What was wrong with me?
“Baby, I’m fine. It’s just a scratch,” Elio said.
Romeo shot Elio a look at the term of endearment, but thankfully, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he said, “Yeah. Just a scratch.”
He pressed his palm where the knife had hit Elio, trying to stop the bleeding.
It wasn’t just a fucking scratch.
I shook my head.
Elio wrapped his arms around me and pulled me carefully into his body, as if I were a fragile thing and he was afraid I would break at any given moment.
I felt like it.
“Massimo is coming,” Romeo said. “I just got here first. Why don’t you take Isa home, and I’ll take care of the mess? It doesn’t look like the wound is too deep, and it has stopped bleeding already. I’ll be by tonight to check on you.”
Elio didn’t say anything. He looked around at all the bodies.
“Go take care of your girl,” Romeo said. And that was all the push he needed. He helped me up, and I nearly fell back. Romeo stood up, as if he were afraid I might fall. Elio tightened his arms around me.
“I got her,” Elio said.
Romeo nodded, and I let Elio lead me out of there. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. It didn’t matter, anyway. Not when the image of all those bodies was already deeply entrenched in my brain.