Chapter 34
Thirty-Four
Blair
The drive was silent as we left campus.
From the murderous expression on his face, I was almost too afraid to ask Enzo what was wrong.
I also needed some time to catch my breath well enough to form words.
Damn, he ran fast. I needed to hit the damn gym.
His phone rang, and he switched hands on the steering wheel to answer it.
“How is he?” he asked into the speaker. He nodded a few times. “Tell Nico to have Emeri drive him to the hospital.” A few pauses. “No, I couldn’t fucking wait.” He cursed before speaking Italian, words I didn’t understand, then ended the call.
His fingers flexed against the steering wheel. They did that about every ten seconds on the dot.
“Enzo?” I finally asked when I noticed his speed hit one hundred.
He didn’t reply to me, just kept his focus on the road.
I stared out the window, regretting not grabbing my purse. It had been on instinct that I ran after him. Stupid instinct, but instinct nonetheless.
I saw the brokenness on Enzo’s face and wanted to be there for him. I also wanted to know what had brought that pain on so suddenly.
Enzo rarely looked sad. The devil’s usual facial expressions were those of anger and one that proved he was about to ruin your life. I’d never seen sorrow in those features. Never seen fear either.
And tonight, both of those had been clear on Enzo’s face when he got that call.
“Enzo?” I repeated, unsure how much time had passed, but hoping enough that I’d get an answer out of him.
Silence.
“Can I, uh …” I started, searching for words.
He turned to look at me, as if just now remembering I was in the passenger seat. Reaching out, he turned up the music, as if that was the answer to whatever my question was.
Groaning, I turned the volume down.
“Enzo,” I said again.
“Blair,” he fired back in a mocking tone.
“Can you tell me where we’re going?”
“Should’ve asked that before you jumped into my car.”
I paused. Good point, but still.
Things had been too hectic for me to ask then. I had only prayed my heart didn’t give out while running.
But now, I could breathe, and we had the time.
Though if I pushed him too far, I wouldn’t put it past him to drop me off on the side of the road.
“Let me have silence for a minute, Blair. You’ll get the answers you want later.”
I nodded, making myself comfortable in the seat and even turning on the seat warmer. I stayed silent, giving him that, as he drove.
When he pulled into a hospital parking lot, I had even more questions. He drove into an underground parking garage, swerved into the first available spot, and parked.
I followed him out of the car and toward an entrance where a man clad in a black suit stood guard. He jerked his chin up when he noticed Enzo, moving aside to allow us entry. It seemed these people had special entrances for everything.
We walked down a quiet hallway until reaching a small waiting room. Benny was pacing. Two women were seated, both crying, while a tall man stood behind one of the women, rubbing her shoulders.
Benny’s pacing halted when he noticed us.
Well, when he noticed me.
His gaze tore into me as if I were an unwanted virus that’d just contaminated the entire hospital.
“What’s she doing here?” he asked with fury in his eyes.
I was sure all his anger wasn’t supposed to be directed at me. I was just getting the brunt of someone else’s.
Since I didn’t have the answer and didn't want to piss this man off, I didn’t respond. The last thing I wanted to do was say I’d pretty much come uninvited.
His stare reminded me so much of Enzo.
I was labeling it the Marchetti stare. Cunning yet inviting, beckoning you into their darkness.
“She’d better not have a phone,” Benny told Enzo.
“I don’t,” I said hurriedly, finding my voice to give him the assurance.
He gave me a dirty look in response, like how dare I reply to his question about me.
“Benny,” Enzo warned, pulling me behind him.
My insides went fuzzy at the protectiveness in his tone.
“How’s he doing?” Enzo asked.
Benny waved him over. The guy behind the woman dropped his hands from her shoulders, following Enzo, and they huddled in a corner while speaking in low voices.
The girl whose shoulders he’d been rubbing looked over at me. “Hi. I’m Gigi. Enzo’s sister.”
I shyly waved at her, and my voice was raspy when I said, “Hi. I’m Blair.”
The older woman attempted to force a smile, but it almost seemed she was too weak to do so. “Hi, Blair. I’m Enzo’s mother, Natalia.” She motioned toward the chairs. “Have a seat. We’ll probably be here for a while.”
I walked over to them, taking a chair, leaving one between Natalia and me to give her space.
I was too nervous to ask them what had happened. It felt too invasive. My guess was that something had happened to Monster Marchetti.
As we sat there, I couldn’t help but take in the women. They shared so many features with Enzo.
Gigi was older, looking nearly the same age as Enzo’s mom. Her black hair was pulled into a messy ponytail.
Natalia’s dark hair was down in long, thick curls, the color so similar to Seraphina’s.
Both women were gorgeous—even as stressed as they looked at the moment with puffy eyes and swollen faces from their crying.
When my eyes traveled to Enzo, my gaze caught his. He gave me a subtle nod, and when the doors opened leading to the other side of the waiting room, the three men disappeared through them.
“Breaking news!”
The loud voice caused me to look up at the TV on the wall.
A reporter shouted into the microphone as she stood outside the White House. Breaking news text scrolled across the screen.
“President Byron has been shot,” the reporter informed us. “There has been another assassination attempt on the president of the United States.”
“Holy fucking shit,” I muttered.
“Exactly the words I was thinking,” Natalia said.
“Do you think Dad’s shooting and his are related?” Gigi asked.
And there it was.
Enzo’s father had been shot.