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“Thank fucking God. I was about to get my gun out and shoot myself in the other shoulder,” Enzo mocks. I smile at him as he attempts to sit up.
“No way. Don’t move the fuck around. I need to get you sewed up. You’re lucky that it didn’t hit anything important,” Jared orders, moving back over to Enzo. I get up from the bed, not sure what I should be doing. I’m stuck here as much as Enzo is. Not that the safe house is bad. We have internet access, TV, and it is a cozy little cabin. Except, knowing why we are here, makes it seem like a jail cell all over again.
“Come hold him down!” Jared yells to me. I move to the side of the bed slowly. I’m not sure where Enzo and I stand after everything. I saved his life, and he saved mine. I’m sure the debt has been paid now.
Sitting down on the soft comforter, I ask Jared, “Where do you need me?”
“Just hold his arm on that side. Enzo, quit fucking moving. This isn’t your first rodeo.”
“Yeah, well, it’s the first fucking rodeo that hurt this bad.”
My mouth gapes open. I should have known he’d been shot more than once. Still, it seems weird to think about that. Placing my arms against his skin, I hold him securely.
“How many times have you been shot?” I ask, my face mere millimeters from his. His brown eyes warm as they pass over my face and then down to my lips. I know what he’s thinking. He wants to kiss me, devour me until there is nothing left of me. I know it because that’s how I am feeling.
“Yeah. I was shot in the leg when I was seventeen. Drug deal gone wrong. Then another time when I was twenty-one.” The way he refers to it makes it seem so nonchalant.
“Yeah, and I saved his ass then too…” Jared cuts in, sliding the needle and thread through his skin.
“You didn’t save me, fucker. You just patched me up,” Enzo growls as if someone else saving him doesn’t sit well with him. If that is the case, things between him and I aren’t going to go well. I won’t rub it in his face that I saved his life, but if he tells me he can’t let me go, I will remind him that he is standing here because of me. That is if I can even walk away from him.
“Shut up and stop moving,” Jared shoots back, and Enzo’s face turns to mine once again. I get the feeling that Jared and Enzo go way back. Not that Jared told me a lot about himself on the ride here. Aside from the small questions he had asked me, I know nothing about him.
“Are you okay?” Enzo asks, his voice is as smooth as butter. His hand that I am pressing against his abdomen strokes across my skin. My insides turn to mush, and though I am a mess… I still want him. He has that effect on people.
“Yeah, I’m fine…” I barely get out without a moan. I don’t want to make Jared uncomfortable, and I don’t really think that Enzo will be up for sex, so I just keep it to myself.
“Are you sure?” He is pushing his physical pain to the back burner. Why is he so concerned with me? Worry marks form on his face as he frowns at me. He thinks I am lying. I really am okay. I am shaken up a bit, and I will forever feel guilty for ripping someone from their family, but I will move on. I have to.
“I’m…. I’m okay. Really. I’m not the one shot,” I answer, smiling at him. This is something I haven’t ever seen in him. I have never seen him be gentle or kind. He is always dark and crude. It’s as if a switch flipped within him.
“Where are Mack and Eli?” Enzo asks.
“Securing the perimeter and picking up some supplies. They should be back soon. You’re good to go, boss. But no rowdiness.” He picks up the buckets and clothes and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. Is it that obvious that we need a moment alone?
Silence passes between us as he stares at me. I can’t read him. I used to be able to tell what he was thinking or at least what kind of mood he was in.
“You saved my life,” he says softly, pulling me down toward his lips.
“Yeah, I did. Does that mean the debt is paid?” My own feelings are starting to come forward. If he tells me I can leave, will I? Will I ever be safe without him, or am I as damned as much as he is?
Anger flutters just under the surface. His mocha-colored eyes turn dark as his hand reaches up into the back of my hair, holding it tightly, holding me securely.
