by L A Cotton
The unforgettable smell of death.
“We should call for backup,” Gino said, but I was transfixed on finding the source of the pungent scent. With little natural light in the warehouse, I pulled out my cell phone to use the flashlight to guide my way. Old shelving was littered around the space, leaning against walls, and toppled over like a haphazard obstacle course. On the far wall there was a row of busted up lockers. I weaved through the mess aware of the sticky, squelchy sound underfoot.
“Gino,” I called, and he came running, grinding to a halt when I dropped the beam and illuminated the pool of blood surrounding the lockers.
“Do you want to do the honors?” he asked me, and I leaned over, yanking open the first locker.
“Holy shit.” The dead body toppled out, splatting over the floor in a spray of red mist.
“Fuck,” Gino hissed. “That’s Alejandro.”
“Wha—”
Just then the clatter of footsteps sounded from somewhere behind us and we both glanced in that direction.
Someone else was in the warehouse.
Had the guy doubled back? Or had that been his intention all along?
The question evaporated as a figure came out of nowhere, knocking into me and sending me crashing to the bloody ground.
“Enzo,” Gino roared as I tried to buck the guy off me. But with the blood acting as a lubricant, it was impossible to get any leverage.
“Surprise.” He glared down at me, trapping my body between his and the cold ground beneath me.
“Get the fuck off me.” I slammed my forehead into his nose, and he rolled away, grunting in agony. Gino leaned down and grabbed him by his collar, dragging him to his feet. But at the last second, I saw the glint of the blade.
“Gino, watch ou—”
The guy brought his hand high and jabbed it down in one fell swoop, the knife sliding into Gino’s jugular like butter. All I could do was stand there and watch as dark-red blood spurted out of his neck.
“H-help me.” He gurgled, clutching his neck with both hands, blood oozing down his gloved fingers, as the guy yanked his knife free and stepped away.
Gino staggered backward, swaying a little.
“Fuck, man.” I rushed to his side, hardly able to believe what was happening. My hands went to cover his, trying to stem the blood. But it was everywhere seeping through over my gloves like a red river. “Tell me what to do? Tell me…”
“Don’t let him e-escape.” Gino’s eyes went over my shoulder and I glanced back to the guy taking off toward the passageway.
“Go,” he breathed with difficulty. The life was draining away from him before my very eyes.
“Fuck, FUCK!” I let out a guttural roar as Gino bled out in my arms.
“G-go.” His eyes rolled.
I didn’t want to leave him, but when I heard the rumble of an engine, I knew it was now or never.
“I’m sorry, man,” I whispered, laying Gino down. He was unconscious now, blood still spurting out of his wound. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
I ran out of the warehouse and to my car, ripping the door open and barreling inside. The truck was already on the move, but it was a rusted piece of shit that wouldn’t out gun my baby.
Digging my cell from my jeans, I managed to dial Uncle Toni.
“Enzo, son? Thank fuck. Where are you?”
“Gino… he… he’s…”
Fuck. There was so much blood.
“I’m sending back up. Just tell me where you are.”
“I’m going after him.” The words came out icy cold, detached from the bloodbath I’d just left. There would be time to mourn Gino, to raise a glass for him and pay our respects. But that time wasn’t now.
“Lorenzo, listen to me. I want you to pull over and take a breath, son. We’ll get this fucker, we will. But not tonight. Not like this.”
“I can get him. I can—”
“Vaffanculo!” Uncle Toni roared. “I am not asking, Enzo. I am giving you a direct order. Pull the fuck over.”
Before I could talk myself out of it, I hit disconnect and threw my cell into the center console. I needed to do this—I needed to know why he had all those photographs and newspaper cuttings of my family and friends. The need to know burned through me like acid and was the only thing spurring me on. That and blind rage.
I’d been around death, too much for a twenty-year-old guy. But I’d never watched the life drain, literally drain, right out of a friend before. A guy who had taken me under his wing without question.
I followed the truck, keeping a safe distance. He obviously hadn’t noticed I’d given chase, making no effort to speed away. He’d taken the road out of Providence, joining the highway toward Verona. Nicco and Matteo blew up my cell phone, no doubt up to speed from Uncle Toni about what had gone down. I hoped that Marc and Dixon had gotten there in time to get help, but deep down in my gut, I knew Gino was gone.
There was too much blood. I was covered in the stuff. It clung to my clothes like rainwater. The cloying scent only fueling my need for vengeance.
“I’m coming for you,” I chanted to myself, driven only by rage. Part of me knew I should heed Uncle Toni’s orders to step down, but I couldn’t—I couldn’t let this motherfucker escape. So I stayed on his ass, keeping the rusty-black truck in my line of sight.
But the guy didn’t drive to Verona. He pulled off at a gas station about five miles out.
I made the turn and rolled into the forecourt, hiding between a couple of trucks parked up for the night. The guy climbed out of his truck, pulling on a black jacket over his hoodie. I couldn’t see much of his face, hidden under a ball cap he’d obviously pulled on at some point on the drive here.
He disappeared inside and I waited.
My cell phone began blaring again and I finally grabbed it. “Yeah?”
“What the fuck, Enzo?” Nicco growled. “You were told to stand down.”
“And let this fucker escape? He knows us, Nic. He fucking knows us. And he knows about—” The words died in my throat.
“I know… fuck, I know. But I don’t like this. He’s clearly dangerous.”
I wanted to argue that so was I, but another truck rolled into the forecourt, blocking my line of sight to the store and the guy’s truck.
“I need to go.” I hung up, cussing the truck driver.
I had no choice now but to drive around the gas pumps to the small parking lot in front of the store if I wanted to keep an eye on his truck. I made the split decision and edged out my spot and slowly crawled the car around the forecourt. But I was too fucking late, the truck already peeling out of the gas station and back onto the highway. I slammed my foot down on the gas and took off, the screech of tires filling the air. I wasn’t about to lose this guy for anything.
I just hoped no one called the cops before I got to him.
Chapter 14
Nora
I’d just climbed into bed when a knock at my door rang out through the apartment.
God, I hoped it wasn’t Luca. I wasn’t ready to see him again yet, not after last night. I’d crept back into my apartment in the early hours of the morning after waking in his bed, his warm body tucked against mine.
My feelings for Luca were confusing. I was confused. So I’d taken a day off classes to spend time on some self-love. There wasn’t much that a day of slumming around in lounge pants couldn’t solve. I’d binge-watched some mindless TV, eaten my bodyweight in snacks, and enjoyed a homemade face mask, manicure, and pedicure. I felt shiny and new, even if my emotional state was still a mess.
Gingerly, I climbed out of bed and pulled an MU hoodie over my pajamas. It barely covered my legs, but it wasn’t anything Luca or Maurice hadn’t already seen.
But when I checked the peephole, my world imploded.
“Enzo?” I yanked open the door and stared at the guy who had left without so much as a word. “Oh my God, what happened?”
He was covered from head to toe in blood. A dark prin
ce with death on his shoulder.
“Enzo?” I said again when he didn’t reply. He just stood there, still and silent, his eyes soulless.
“Come on.” I gently pulled him inside, noticing the way he flinched when I touched him. I ignored the pinch of dejection though. He was here and by the looks of him, he needed me.
I checked the hallway, noticing the splatters of blood. Crap.
“Wait right here,” I said to Enzo as I went into my bedroom and retrieved my cell phone.
“Who are you—”
I held up my finger at Enzo, silencing him. “Maurice,” I said the second he answered. “It’s me.”
“Miss Abato, what can I—”
“I need you at La Stella now, there’s been a… Enzo is here.”
“Lorenzo?”
“Yes.”
“Is he okay?” Concern laced his words. “Are you safe?”
I smiled at that. If only he knew.
“Yes, I’m quite safe. Enzo won’t hurt me.” My eyes found Enzo’s across the room, but his cloudy expression barely flinched. “You might want to bring some cleaning fluid and a fresh set of clothes.”
Maurice sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ll be right there. Whatever you do, do not let Enzo leave. Not until I’ve spoken to Mr. Marchetti.”
“Got it and thank you.” I hung up, dropping my cell phone onto the sideboard.
Enzo tracked my every move as I slid the safety chain into place and went to the kitchen drawer and grabbed a trash bag.
“You should probably take those off and take a shower,” I said. “Maurice is bringing you some clean clothes. There are towels and a robe in the bathroom. You can use whatever you need.”
“Why are you doing this for me?” His lip twitched.
“The same reason you ended up on my doorstep and not anyone else’s.” I smiled weakly. “You know where the bathroom is. I’ll give you some space.”
Enzo stared at me intently, as if he was seeing me for the first time. I wanted to take that feeling and run with it, but I wasn’t some naïve little girl. I knew from the state of him, whatever had gone down tonight wasn’t good. And from his detached mood, I knew he was probably in shock.
For as much as I wanted to believe that Enzo being here changed things, I refused to let myself go there.
“You should go get cleaned up, you’re a mess.”
Blood caked his hands and face, smeared up his neck and soaked through his clothes. The sight was terrifying, but it didn’t change the fact Enzo Marchetti was still one of the most beautiful men I’d ever laid eyes on.
He opened his mouth to speak but no words came… and that small flash of hope inside me flickered out.
This doesn’t change anything. I had to remember that.
Enzo snatched up the bag and stalked off down the hall, leaving a trail of bloody footprints. I wasn’t even sure he was aware of just how blood-soaked he was.
I released a shaky breath and then set about cleaning up. When I was done, I threw the towel in the basin and braced myself against the counter. This was life with a mafioso. Bloodstained clothes and late night clean up jobs. Yet, the second I saw Enzo standing there on my doorstep, the only thing I wanted to do, was protect him. To pull him inside and comfort him.
What did that say about me if I was prepared to act first and ask questions later?
Across the hall was a good guy who wanted me. A good, honest man who could give me a secure, stable future. A man who would be there when I needed him.
Enzo wasn’t that guy.
He dealt in dark deeds and secrets.
Yet, my heart beat harder for him than it ever had for another.
There was no explanation for that kind of connection. No rulebook for why some hearts entwined so deeply when others didn’t.
It just was.
My cell phone started to vibrate, startling me from my reverie. “Hello?” I whispered.
“Nora, thank God. What happened? I heard Nicco tell Matteo that Enzo is at your place?”
“He just got here like five minutes ago.”
“And?”
“It’s bad, Ari… really bad. He was covered head to toe in blood and had this look in his eyes…” A violent shiver skated down my spine.
“You said was covered in blood?”
“He’s taking a shower. I called Maurice, I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You did the right thing. Nicco is just talking to his father. Are you okay?”
“I guess… I mean, God, Ari…” The threads of my control slowly began to unravel as the weight of what was happening began to sink deep into my bones. “You didn’t see how broken he looked.”
“Do you want me to come over?”
“No!” I rushed out a little too hastily. “I just mean… it’s Enzo. I don’t think we should crowd him. I’m sure Nicco will know what to do.”
In hindsight, I perhaps should have called him first, but Maurice was my personal bodyguard. He lived a three-minute walk away, and I knew he’d contact Nicco and Antonio Marchetti.
“Okay, text me if you need anything. And Nora…” She hesitated, and I knew I wasn’t going to like her next words. “Be careful. It sounds like whatever happened was bad… Enzo will be hurting, he’ll be confused. I don’t want you to misread anything.”
“Remember he doesn’t want me, yep, I think I’ve got it,” I said, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.
“Nora,” she sighed. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“I’m fine, Ari. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll text you later.” I hung up before she could impart any more advice on me.
I wasn’t stupid, I knew Enzo was running on autopilot right now. Trauma did that to people. But he’d still ended up at my apartment. I couldn’t just completely ignore that.
I made us some hot chocolate while I waited for Maurice. He showed up ten minutes later, armed with a duffel bag full of clothes for Enzo and cleaning fluid.
“Where is he?” he asked.
“Taking a shower.”
“Good. When he’s done, I want you to give him these and tell him to sit tight. The boss is coming straight here.”
“Antonio Marchetti is coming here?”
Maurice ran a hand down his face. “He needs to speak with Enzo. You going to be okay? I can take you somewhere—”
“She stays.”
I felt Enzo’s deep graveled words all the way to the pit of my stomach.
“Got it.” Maurice nodded. “There are fresh clothes in the bag. I’ll handle the mess outside.”
“Fuck,” Enzo gritted out, standing there with just a white towel wrapped around his waist. Heat flowed through me like lava. “I didn’t even think,” he added.
“Relax, I got it. Just sit tight and wait for Toni to get here.”
Enzo nodded, his eyes icy cold as they remained fixed on my face.
“I’ll be right outside, Miss Abato.”
“It’s Nora,” I called after him, letting out a sigh of frustration as he closed the door without correcting himself.
Silence echoed through the apartment as my eyes once again found Enzo. “I made us hot chocolate.”
It had seemed like a good thing two minutes ago, but now I felt like a child offering the Big Bad Wolf a candy sucker.
“Thanks.” Enzo let out a steady breath, his ink-covered abs contracting with the motion. “I should probably—” He picked up the bag.
“Yeah, okay.” I swallowed, fire rising in my stomach like a tidal wave.
Enzo took off down the hall and disappeared into the guest bedroom. He’d been here before, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. When things were simpler, and we didn’t have so much blood and destruction filling the cracks between us.
I grabbed my mug and got comfy on the couch. But I’d barely settled when there was another knock at the door.
Assuming it was Maurice, I placed down my drink and traipsed to the door, my heart doing another leap when I fo
und Luca standing there.
“You’re okay,” he breathed, “thank fuck.”
“L-Luca.” I blinked. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard a commotion out in the hall and saw all the blood… what the hell—”
“You must be Luca.”
Every cell in my body fired to life as Enzo stepped up behind me.
“Let me guess, you’re the guy.” Luca’s gaze dropped to mine, a hundred questions there.
“Now is not a good time,” I said, forcing my lips into a thin smile.
“Seriously?” Luca dropped his voice an octave. “You’re going to do this after what happened last night?”
Enzo bristled behind me and I let out an exasperated breath. “You should go,” I said firmly. “I’m okay, I promise. I’ll explain everything tomorrow.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed, hurt flashing there. He lifted his dejected gaze to Enzo and electricity crackled between them.
“Luca, please…” I pulled at his arm. “I need you to go.”
“Fine. But I’m right across the hall if you need me.”
“I know, thank you,” I mouthed, trying to silently convey that everything was okay.
But it wasn’t.
I was literally stuck between the two men in my life.
Luca backed up slowly, reluctance etched into his expression. Running a brisk hand over his face, he spun on his heel and disappeared into his apartment. I closed the door with a soft sigh, turning to meet Enzo’s hard glare.
“You fuck him?”
“You care?”
He made a clucking sound, pressing his lips into a thin line.
“You want a fight?” I let out a resigned sigh. “You won’t find one here, not tonight.” Barging past him, I went back to the couch and sat down.
Being around Enzo was always intense. He was like the sun, pulling everything else into its orbit. Except he wasn’t the sun, not in the way most of us imagined the sun as a warm, inviting thing that made everything seem better.
He was something much worse.
Fiery, hot destruction.