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Brielle and our baby.
* * *
When I reach the warehouse,Brielle is stepping outside, blood dripping down her face and splattered across her clothing. Bruises cover her arms and face. A gun dangles from her grip. She looks like a deer trapped in the headlights and ready to run at any moment.
I turn off the car and get out as she raises the gun and points it at me. Even in her state of shock, her hands are steady and there’s no doubt in my mind that she could kill me if she wanted to.
“It’s just me,” I say, walking slowly toward her. “What happened? Are you alright?”
She shakes her head, the gun lowering slightly. “I need to go to a doctor. I need to know that the baby is alright.”
“You need to go sit in the car. I’m going to make sure that everyone in there is gone, alright?”
Brielle looks up at me, her green eyes wide and glazed over. “They’re all dead.”
“Alright, well, I want to go look. Here are the keys. Go sit in the car and keep the doors locked. If I’m not out in five minutes or if anyone else shows up, you drive away. Got it?”
“I’m not leaving you here,” she says, her voice monotone as her gaze flits away from me. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“You should. Promise me that you’ll do that, Brielle.”
She bites her lip, her eyes glossy as she nods.
Before I can stop myself, I take her chin in my hand and tilt her face up to mine. I kiss her quickly before pulling away. “Go get in the car.”
Brielle wipes some of the blood from her face — her own or her attackers’ I can’t tell — and goes to the car. I wait until she’s locked inside before heading into the warehouse.
She isn’t lying. Everyone is dead.
The deeper I walk into the warehouse, my gun drawn, the more blood I see. There are six bodies in total, all of them with multiple bullet wounds.
Pride swells through me when I think about how she fought her way out of this. She never should have had to, but at least she was able to handle herself.
I’m never going to let anything happen to her again.
I jog out of the warehouse and to the car, eager to not let her out of my sight again. I send a message to Matteo before heading straight for the hospital.
“Are you okay?” I ask, reaching out to put my hand on her thigh. “Sofia told me about a doctor for the cartel that works at the hospital here. I’m going to take you there so they can check you out and then we’re going to be on our way to the Russo estate.”
“It’s okay. I’m fine,” she says, her voice soft as she looks out the window. “Just make sure the baby is alright, then you can take me home.”
I nod, a lump rising in my throat. I’ll take her to the hospital, but I’m not taking her home, regardless of what she says. I’m not leaving her unguarded a second longer.
“You know, my father once paid men to take me hostage and beat me up. They kept me for days, beating me and torturing me. He thought it would be a good way to teach me that I can’t rely on another person to save me.”
She turns to look at me, scoffing. “Are you comparing stories or trying to lecture me about how to protect myself right now? Because either way, I’m not really in the mood.”
“None of those.” I run my hand up and down her thigh lightly. I need to feel her and know that she is safe beside me. “I’m telling you this because I understand what happened in there, at least partly. I want you to know that you can talk to me.”
Brielle laughs. “When the fuck have I ever been able to talk to you about anything, Salvatore? I couldn’t even tell you about the baby without you sending me away.” She scoffs. “I’m good, thanks.”
“I made a mistake. I freaked out and reacted poorly. That day, I learned that I wasn’t scared of dying, I was terrified of losing everyone that I love. Everyone that matters to me. Somewhere along the way, you became one of the people who matter.”
She crosses her arms and leans back in the seat. “I never asked to be that. It would be easier for both of us if I wasn’t.”
As I park the car near the emergency wing, my breath hitches.
Everything going on in my life would be easier if I didn’t care about her.
