Chapter 7
JENNA
When nine o’clock comes and goes, my heart sinks.
It doesn’t look like Mr. Oliveira is coming tonight, which sucks. I was going to try to talk to him today. I even wrote a little note in case I chickened out at the last minute.
I ate all the pastries he gave me yesterday, and the washed container is sitting on the counter in front of me.
God, I was so full from gorging on the pastries that I slept like the dead for eight hours. I haven’t had such a good day in a very long time.
Seeing Mr. Oliveira every night for the past week, I couldn’t help but form a crush on him. I’ll never act on it, but it feels so amazing, and I’m constantly excited to see him again.
I picture him coming into the store and asking me out on a date. We’d go to dinner at a fancy restaurant. The kind that uses fabric napkins. He’d only have eyes for me, and that would make me feel special.
A dreamy smile curves my lips as I get lost in my fantasy.
When we’re done eating a five-course meal that has my stomach bursting at the seams, he’d take my hand and we’d walk through town for everyone to see I’m not as weird as they think.
Mr. Oliveira would pull me to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk, and slowly, he’d lean down until our mouths touch in a sweet kiss.
My cheeks grow warm as I keep replaying the scene over and over in my mind.
The sound of a car pulling into the gas station yanks me out of my fantasy and has my eyes darting to the window.
Ugh, it’s just a sedan.
When the car comes to a stop right outside the store, I see the four men sitting inside, and the sight of them has my heart rate setting off at a crazy pace.
Shoot.
I don’t recognize them, and it always makes me more nervous dealing with strangers than regulars.
While the driver stays in the car, the other three get out. One lights a cigarette and walks toward the roadside, glancing up and down.
The tiny hairs on the back of my neck rise, and my breathing slows down when only two of the men come into the store.
They glance around, and one hangs back near the counter, his eyes scanning over me, while the other walks toward the ATM in the corner.
The man closest to me pulls a gun out from behind his back and looks me dead in the eye as he orders, “Stay right there and don’t do anything stupid.”
Oh God.
I nod quickly before ducking my head low and wrapping my arms around my middle.
Shock shudders through me as he keeps the gun trained on me while the other man does something by the ATM. Suddenly, they hurry out of the store, and before I know what’s happening, there’s a loud blast and I’m slammed against the shelves behind me.
My body drops to the floor while my ears ring and pain blossoms at the back of my head.
I’m completely disoriented as I’m grabbed by my arm and hauled to my feet. When the man shouts in my face, I struggle to make out his words.
I’m yanked out from behind the counter and shoved toward the ATM that’s been blown open, cash lying scattered all over the floor, while smoke quickly fills the air.
I cough, and when I just stand and stare at the destruction, something connects with the side of my head and cheek, making me topple over and fall between the dollar bills.
“I said pick up the fucking money and load it into the bag,” one of the men shouts, my hearing finally returning.
Dazed and shocked, I move onto my knees and begin to gather the money.
Only then does a trembling start deep in my bones, and intense fear strikes hard. I taste something coppery, and my tongue feels numb.
“Faster!” One of the men, who’s standing outside, shouts. “There’s a car coming.”
“You heard him,” the one closest to me snaps while he shoves at my hip with his shoe. “Get all the money in the bag now!”
“Fuck,” the one standing by the door grumbles. “I’ll deal with whoever it is.”
All of a sudden, there are two gunshots, and my heart leaps up to my throat.
My fear turns to terror as I swing around onto my butt and scramble backward while shaking my head.
The next instant, Mr. Oliveira appears, stalking toward the man who’s holding the bag open while firing his gun at the one who manhandled and hit me.
My eyes are wide as saucers, and my jaw slack as Mr. Oliveira trains his weapon on the last robber, who suddenly moves toward me. I let out a shriek and dart to the side, knocking into a row of shelves, which has products falling over me.
Mr. Oliveira shoots the robber while dashing toward me, and he catches a jar right above my head. As he crouches in front of me, he sets the jar down on the floor before cupping my cheek.
“Are you okay?”
I’m in too much shock to react and can only stare at the man I’ve been looking forward to seeing tonight.
Mr. Oliveira gently takes hold of my arm and pulls me to my feet. He tucks his gun away, then proceeds to check my body for any injuries before he focuses on the side of my head.
“We need to have the cut on your head checked,” he says. “Is there a hospital nearby?”
I glance at the two dead bodies, and then it sinks in that Mr. Oliveira just killed the robbers.
Panic slams hard into my chest as flashes of the robbery, the explosion, and all the gunshots shudder through my mind. My breathing speeds up impossibly fast, and I stare at the blood puddle forming on the floor.
“Foda-se,” Mr. Oliveira mutters, and when he suddenly picks me up bridal style, a whimper escapes me.
He carries me out of the store and to the side of the building. I see the driver in the car, the front of his face all bloody, the sight gruesome.
Mr. Oliveira crouches and sets me down on the ground, then he frames my face with his cool hands and forces me to look at him.
“You’re safe, meu anjo. I’m not going to hurt you.”
I manage to nod, then a sob bursts from me, and I grab hold of his wrist.
He leans down until our faces are a mere inch apart. “I need you to focus for me. Do the security cameras work?”
I nod again, and when I start to move, he helps me to my feet. His hand wraps around the back of my neck, and he sticks close to me as I hurry into the store and behind the counter. I point at the system where the footage from the three cameras is stored on a built-in hard drive.
I watch as Mr. Oliveira erases everything, and when I hear sirens, he darts to me and grabs hold of my shoulders.
“You didn’t see me, Jenna. Understand?”
I nod quickly, then he leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Get the cut on your head checked out.”
Stunned from the kiss, my gaze follows him as he hurries out of the store and gets into his SUV. With screeching tires, he pulls away, leaving me alone.
Slowly, I step backward until I bump into the doorjamb of the storage room, then I spin around and run to the restroom, where I lock myself inside.
The intense trembling returns to my body, and I crouch down, wrapping my arms around my legs while I bow my head.
The terrifying events of the night bombard me, and I begin to cry, my breaths choppy.
Mr. Oliveira killed the four robbers without batting an eye. He moved so fast they didn’t stand a chance. He erased the proof that he was here and left before the police arrived.
I hear Sheriff Barnes shouting, “Is there anyone back here? Jenna?”
I can’t get a word out and continue to cry.
“Come out with your hands up where I can see them,” Sheriff Barnes orders.
Somehow, I manage to climb to my feet and unlock the door. I raise my arms and slowly step out of my hiding place until Sheriff Barnes is able to see me.
“You can lower your arms,” he says as he comes toward me.
I quickly scramble back into the restroom and slam the door shut before locking it again. Sinking to the floor, I’m overcome with a panic attack, and I can’t focus on a single thing.
My vision grows spotty, and I slump to the side as I lose consciousness.
ENZO
I go straight to the motel where everyone is staying, and the instant I bring the SUV to a stop, I jump out and order the nearest guard, “Wipe the vehicle down and get rid of it.”
“Yes, sir,” he replies.
“Which room is Dominik in?” I ask.
“One oh four.”
I walk to the door and knock on it. When Dominik opens, I step inside and let out a heavy breath. “The gas station was being robbed when I got there. I killed the four men, and Jenna got hurt. I couldn’t stay because the police were coming.”
“Take a deep breath,” Dominik says as he gestures at one of the chairs by a small round table. He leans out of the doorway and shouts, “Tell Santiago, Leo, and Cassia to come to my room.”
I hear the guard reply as I sit down while rubbing my palm over my face.
What a fucking shit show.
I shouldn’t have left Jenna there.
“Enzo.” Dominik sits down in the other chair. “Did you leave any evidence behind?”
“Bullets.”
“That can’t be traced back to you.” He tilts his head as the other three come into the room. “Security cameras?”
“Wiped clean.”
“Good. You’re in the clear unless the woman talks.”
My eyes flick to his. “Jenna doesn’t speak.”
“Still, there are other ways to tell the police that you were there and killed the four men.”
“Who did you kill?” Santiago asks.
“Robbers at the gas station,” I reply, and to bring the others up to speed, I add, “When I got there, they were robbing the place.” I stare at the off-white table. “Jenna got hurt. A cut on the side of her head.” I shake my head. “I shouldn’t have left her behind.”
“Will she tell the police you were there?” Leo asks.
“I don’t fucking care,” I snap. “I should’ve taken her with me and made sure she got medical care.”
“Calm down,” Dominik says, his tone low and deep. “We can send men to keep an eye on things and report back to us.”
I nod as I suck in a deep breath.
I haven’t felt panic in a very long time, and the emotion is wreaking havoc on my ability to think straight.
Over the past week of watching Jenna, I didn’t see anyone else going into the house she lives in. The thought that I’ve left her alone after she just went through something so traumatizing is eating away at me.