Page 68 of Vicious Fall
“Go check on Enzo,” my brother says, watching me closely. “I’ll have Amadeo step into his duties until he’s ready to be out again.” He moves away from me before looking over his shoulder, that spot on his jaw damn near black now. “And brother, take a page out of my book and fucking apologise.”
He leaves without another word and I want to hit the fucker again, because he’s right I need to apologise.
Today could have gone different in so many ways.
Enzo could have not called me because he’d been too pissed with me.
Or….
Or he could have died and what I did would have gone to his grave with him, no resolution.
Because if Seven Quad weren’t just trying to send a message and hadn’t used the body of the dealer to do so, it would have been Enzo. While he’s perfectly capable of protecting himself, it's clear they got the drop on him.
Instead of smashing the back of his head in, they could have left a bullet in it.
It’s my time to feel unsteady on my feet, but I make my way back into the room. The doctor is pulling off her gloves, tossing them into the trash. “All done,” she says, her words way too soft for my liking. I glare at her and she swallows. “He can stay in here and I’ll monitor him-”
“No, he’ll come toourroom,” I tell her, already moving over to the stretcher that he’s laid out on. “And I’ll monitor him.”
“Maximo-”
“I’ll call if we run into any issues, doc.” I aim her a look to let her know it's not up for argument.
She nods. “Okay, then. Make sure he takes it easy.” She leaves the room, the door closing a bit loudly.
Clearly, she isn’t happy about my decision but I couldn’t care less.
“Up, Soldier,” I direct him, placing a hand on his shoulder to help him up. I do my best to ignore the bandage around his head, covering his stitches. His cheek is a little shiny and I figure Beth has put some of that liquid stitch shit on it.
Enzo lets out a grunt but allows me to guide him out of the room and to the other side of the house. We move up the stairs and I pass by his room, moving to mine.
Once we’re inside, I lead him over to the bed, helping him down onto it.
I unbutton his suit jacket, tossing it to the floor. “Be still,” I tell him when I go to take his shirt off and he moves. I get his arms out but hesitate when I get to pulling it over his head. Instead, I move over to my nightstand, pulling out my knife. I make quick work of cutting his shirt off, much to his protest. I toss the threads to the side.
I work his pants off of him next and when I step back I take in his body. There’s purple bruises lining his torso. It makes me clench my fists.
I’m going to find out who did this and I’m going to end them.
Gritting my teeth, I strip out of my pants. I spotted blood on them earlier and I know there’s some on my side as well. And I’m pretty sure I stepped on something sharp, but I don’t regret leaving the house barefooted.
I didn’t have enough time to sit around pulling on fucking shoes if Enzo was in danger.
Enzo looks up at me, opening his mouth to say something.
“Don’t,” I cut him off, pushing on his shoulder until he lays out on the bed.
“I’ll be back.” I move into my bathroom, hopping in the shower so quickly it doesn’t have time to fully heat up.
I make quick work of getting the blood off of me and the grime off of my feet. Once I’m done, I dry off with a towel and head back into my room. Climbing into the bed with Enzo, I don’t bother with boxers.
He stiffens for a moment as I wrap my arm around him. “Maximo, I don’t want to have sex.”
“Neither do I.” I swallow, my throat feeling tight. “I just want to hold you, I could have lost you today.”
And it’s true. The realization of what could have gone down today is too much and I need to hold him to remind myself that he’s safe. Maybe that makes me a fucking fool, but so be it.
He relaxes, shifting into my body and I soak in his warmth. I could tell on the way up that he was groggy from the medicine and I have to wonder if it's also the reason he’s being docile after being so pissed with me these last couple of weeks.