Page 102 of The Doctor

My Zeno.

The only ray of sunlight in this horrible, dreadful life.

The man who was kneeling on the floor in front of his would-be killer, the same way he had when he was just a little boy.

Blood pulsed through my ears so hard, it was the only thing I could hear. But I could see the smirk on Stephano’s face. I could see the muscles of Cosimo’s back tighten under his thin shirt. And I could feel a storm raging inside of me, the monster in my brain telling me this fucker’d had a long enough life.

My bloodied, banged-up toes didn’t object as I rushed silently through the door. My shaky hands and sweaty palms didn’t complain as I raised the gun and pointed it at the old man’s back. And my brain fucking cheered me on as I pulled the trigger, putting three bullets through the back of Cosimo’s head.

As his body canted to the side and fell, Raoul and the man holding a gun to Stephano’s head turned their shocked gazes my way. The bastard Provenza had the audacity to raise his gun and point it at me, and I returned the favor, emptying my last few bullets into his chest before the man beside Stephano jerked backward, the back of his head splattering Raoul’s face before both men fell.

A moment later, the door behind Stephano burst open, and my gun clattered to the floor. I wasn’t letting them take Zeno. He wasn’t going to die unless I went first. I threw myself on top of him, knocking him to the floor, only to have my body crushed as something crashed into me in two large thumps.

All the gunshots I was expecting never happened. There was screaming, but the voices had a different kind of urgency than I could have foreseen. All the pain I’d anticipated, the gunshots ripping through my flesh and the hot blood spilling from my body onto the floor, didn’t happen.

I opened my eyes. Twisted my head. Found two sets of dark brown eyes set in two familiar faces staring back at me.

My father and Arik.

“Fucking hell, brat.” Suddenly, Stephano was there, tugging Arik off my father’s back and helping him to his feet. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

I blinked up at my brother. Dragged my attention across the people crowding the room as my father struggled to get up and Stephano yanked him off me by the arm.

Jet was there with his crew, their guns raised as they searched the place. Over by Mario, one of them paused to look down at the lifeless bodies of Ida and Piero Provenza.

“What happened?”

“What happened?” my brother parroted as someone cut the tape wound around my father’s wrists. “You took away all my fun, that’s what happened. I was going to take out that asshole, Raoul, but you finally showed up and then you beat me to it. Stupid fucker deserved to die.”

“Clara?” Underneath me, Zeno shifted. I moved off him, rolled him over and helped him sit up. “Clara?”

“Zee!” I threw my arms around him, nearly knocking him back to the ground. I was just barely aware of Stephano bending down behind him before Zeno’s arms were wrapped tightly around me.

I’d never felt anything as good as that, as good as Zee’s body pressed against mine, his beating heart thudding in his chest, his hands gripping me like he couldn’t get enough.

“You’re here,” he murmured into my hair, but my asshole brother interrupted him from saying more.

“Of course, she’s here. And she fucking saved your asses.”

“Stephano!”

“What? It’s true.” He gripped my father’s shoulder, and his eyes darkened as his smile fell. “Who do you think told me Cosimo was the real threat? Did you know he orchestrated the coup that killed your father? No? Well, Little Miss Smarty Pants over there figured it all out. If you’d give her a single chance, a single fucking chance, to explain, maybe this could have all been stopped.”

Stephano dragged his gaze over to me, sneering like I was shit on his shoe. “If it weren’t for Clara, I wouldn’t be here right now.” He turned then, glancing around the room. “None of you would.”

With that, my brother walked away, calling over his shoulder as he pushed through the door, “I’ve got work to do.”

Zeno tugged me tighter against his chest, burying his head in the crook of my neck. “Please tell me you’re okay.”

Stringing my fingers through the sides of his hair, I edged back so I could see his face. He had a nasty gash and an even nastier bruise creeping across his temple and covering the side of his face. Blood caked his eye, and his eyelid was so swollen it’d be a miracle if he could actually see.

“I’m okay,” I whispered before touching my lips to his. “Are you?”

He rested his forehead gently against my own, his eyes closed. “I will be. As long as you’re here.”

“I’ll never leave you, Zee. I’ll never let you go.”

“I love you, Clara.”