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Gia
I caughtmy pistol in midair and pocketed it in the waistband of my shorts. With a grunt, Enzo lifted Atheist. The dog whined against his touch. He nodded toward the gate, and I opened it to let him carry Atheist toward the garage. I locked it behind him and ran up the stairs to the room. My heart was still racing as I closed the balcony door and locked it.
I was finally alone in the bedroom. I reached into my bag, rustled around, and pulled out the little recorder. It balanced perfectly on the curve of my open palm. The holes in the little square box were tiny, but big enough to absorb every word since I’d been there. I closed it in my fist, torn between the truth and the abnormal beat of my heart at the thought of Enzo.
I walked into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was tossed into a bun on my head, dried leaves sticking to it.Enzo dived on top of me when the gunshots rang out.My shoulders fell forward at the weight of betraying my family. I had one fucking job to do. I clutched the recorder to my chest as the battle inside me raged on.
I tossed the recorder down, and it broke into pieces as it skittered across the tile floors. I picked up the remnants and put it back into my bag, tucked away. The pistol rubbed against my skin, reminding me of its presence. I pulled it out and turned the safety on. I didn’t know what made me grab it or why I felt the urge to follow Enzo. He’d let Atheist out a million times since I’d been there, and I usually didn’t join him. Regardless, I was glad I had, even though I was positive I’d hear all about it from Enzo later.
The bed welcomed my tired body into it, and I curled up and wrapped myself in the weighted blanket. I struggled with anxiety. I knew how much that dog meant to Enzo. Atheist was the one thing in the world Enzo could be weak around. I couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard I tried, and all I could do was wait. Waiting was worse than knowing.
* * *
The door closed,and I craned my head to look at the clock. He’d returned without Atheist after being gone for hours, which made my heart drop somewhere below my diaphragm. I sat up, studying his face for clues.
“Atheist?” I asked. His expressionless features were too hard to read.
“They’re keeping him overnight. They think he’ll be okay.” Enzo sat on the bed with a sigh and rubbed his temples. He dropped his gaze and his eyes widened as he pulled the fabric of his shirt away from him to examine it. With a snarl, he tore it off and ripped it to shreds. “Fuck!” he yelled as he dropped his head into his hands. “I can’t lose him, Gia.”
I scooted toward him, but he shrugged out of my grasp, lifting his hand toward me. I recoiled. He looked at me with a slack jaw and wide eyes before lowering his hand and bringing it toward my cheek. He pulled me against his chest and just held me. My posture remained rigid within his embrace.
“Who do you think it was?” I rubbed his thigh, trying to comfort the nervous motions of his leg.
“Who the fuck knows, Gia. It could have been anyone. We have quite a few enemies.” His gaze shot up and stared at the pistol on the nightstand. His lips formed a tight line. “I hope you didn’t think I’d forget that little stunt. How long have you had your gun?”
“I found it a few days ago.”
“And you weren’t gonna tell me?” He grabbed a fistful of my hair and craned my neck to force me to look at him.
“There’s nothing to tell. It’s my gun.”
“You ain’t gonna walk around my house with a goddamn gun.”
“Why? Because you don’t trust me? Shit, Enzo, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done itdays ago!” I rolled my eyes at him, and he jerked me by my hair.
His frustration boiled over like rolling waves of hot water, and he threw me face down on the bed. His hands hooked my shorts as he jerked them down my thighs.
“Enzo, stop,” I commanded, my voice wavering. Despite my verbal protest, my body ached for him.
“Fuck you, Gia,” he growled. He tugged down his sweatpants, and his cock dropped between my legs from behind me, rubbing against my inner thigh. “I’m gonna take what’s mine,” he said through clenched teeth as he grabbed my hips.
“Enzo...” I pleaded, though my hips rose to meet his.
He thrust into me, making me gasp as he surged within me. He didn’t care if I wanted it or not. He only cared that it was whathewanted. I was his to take.And I fucking want him to take it.He pounded against the soft curves of my ass, filling the air with a sound that made me weak. I melted into the mattress.
“I told you, you owe me,” he said as he fisted my hair and drew me toward him. He wrapped his arm around the front of my body, snaking it up my shirt to grab hold of my chest. His animalistic growls rolled over my neck, making me shiver. “You’re fucking mine, do you understand me?” he said through clenched teeth as he fucked me.
I whimpered against his roughness, and it just made him drive his hips harder. He was using all his strength, his muscles tense in his arms as he kept me pinned against him. I felt the entirety of the power inside Enzo Viglione.
The pressure was too much at this angle. Even an inch of him was pushing me too far. I tried to lean forward, but he held his grasp, slamming into me with a callousness that I equally hated and loved. The pain inside me lit a burning wildfire within my pelvis that traveled up my spine and crawled inside my brain. I thought only of the pain he poured into me and the pleasure it gave him. It made my body tingle, and a shiver rode downward like a tidal wave.
“Enzo, I can’t take any more,” I begged. I worried he would tear me in half, and I was only half okay with that.
“You have to,” he growled against my cheek before trailing down to bite my neck. His thrusts slowed and grew more ragged, and I welcomed the release of tension inside me. He groaned as he thrust one more time with a final deep drive of his hips. He throbbed inside me.
He pulled away from me, letting his hand drop from my chest. I toppled against the bed, still half naked and covered in sweat. I rolled onto my back, staring at him as his hard eyes softened. He grabbed me roughly and pulled me into him, hugging me. He brushed the hair from my face, wiping away tears that had silently and unknowingly fallen down my cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his shoulders dropping. “After everything—”
