“Are you going to beg?” I mock. At the very least, he could go out feeling like a man. If I had one thing to thank Lorenzo for, it was his ruthless ways. He taught me any emotion outside of killing was unneeded. When I finally put a bullet in his head and fuck Amara, it will be from his teachings.
“Men don’t beg,” he says quietly, his voice wobbly. Is he going to cry? Is this fucking pathetic excuse for a human going to cry? I’ve seen women handle death better than this guy.
“Glad you figured it out,” I mock, gripping the blade in my hand. With one single arch, I whip the blade at him, watching his eyes dilate, and his chest move for the last time.
The blade sinks straight into his throat. I listen to the gurgling sound of him struggling to breathe while blood fills his throat. I watch the light leave his eyes, and a sick sadistic smile spreads across my lips, causing my heart to swell with happiness.
“You didn’t have to kill him.” Eli sounds as if he is actually hurt. “Now, I have to go and make food runs.”
“Yes, I did. He was a weakness. He wouldn’t have done anything but drag us down.” I’m satisfied with all I’ve done, and as I watch the blood pour from him, I smile even more. Blood wasn’t a sign of death for me, but a sign of victory. I won.
“Remove his body and get ready to go. We have a plan to follow through with.” I’m going to get them. Both of them, or I’ll die fucking trying.
13
Enzo
I haven’t been myself lately. I’ve lost the roughness in my words and touch. I wasn’t the same man as I was before.
“This is… well… a very domesticated version of you.” Amara laughs easily, her hair moving as small breaths come from her mouth. I watch her fidget with the hem of her shirt.
We haven’t discussed anything pertaining to her being taken because I want this date to be just that—a date. A normal thing two people do when they want to get to know more about one another.
Dating wasn’t really my thing. I never fucked and stayed. Hell, I never even comforted anyone until Amara. I didn’t know what compassion, love, or softness was. Death, rage, and fury were all I knew. She lit a spark in my cold heart, stirring flames not stirred since my mother had died.
“See, I can do shit without a gun.” I smirk, reaching for my glass of water. We’re eating at a simple diner in town. The place reminds me of one of those towns you would see in movies. Definitely a far cry from the normal high-end restaurants I go to.
This isn’t my kind of scene, yet we seem to fit in here just right. Hell, being normal isn’t my kind of thing at all. It feels strange, but at the same time, welcoming.
“Lies…” She hisses out, taking the straw of her drink in between her teeth. “I bet you have your gun tucked right in the back of your pants. I bet you keep looking around the room to see who the first person will be to get shot if shit goes wrong, and I bet, more than anything, being this domesticated is fucking with your head.”
Do I really have it written all over my face, or does she simply know me that well?
“Dear Amara,” I growl, reaching across the table to grip her chin, “you know far more than anyone.”
Letting the straw slip from her mouth, she bites her bottom lip, which in turn causes my cock to swell. She makes me want to fuck her a hundred different ways, and right now on this table, in front of all these people is one of those ways.
“Your double bacon cheeseburger…” the waitress says, pulling me out of my little fantasy. “And an omelet for you...” I catch a slight annoyance to her tone as she slides Amara’s plate in front of her. Anger simmers deep within me. What is this bitch’s problem, and why did she feel the need to all but shove my food at me?
“Excuse me, but is there a problem?” I growl, pushing the plate forward. I catch Amara’s eyes as apprehension shows in them. She doesn’t want a blowout, and neither do I, but no one gets away with treating my girl or me like shit.
“Problem…” She says the words like she is pondering if there is a problem or not? She has five fucking seconds to tell me what the fuck is going on.
“Yeah, you know like, an issue. There isn’t a damn reason to shove shit at me. There is most definitely no reason to take that tone with my woman, and if you care about your job in the least bit, you’ll take the high fucking road.”
“Enzo…” Amara says in a hushed tone.
“No. It’s not okay to be disrespectful.”
“Honey, you need to get your dog on a fucking leash.” The waitress, whose name I didn’t get, walks away.
“Bitch…” I’m this close to reaching for my fucking gun and placing a bullet in her head. Guess Pleasant-Fucking-Ville’s crime rate will go up to one with me around.
“You need to relax, Enzo. This is the real world. There are no mafia people here. She is a waitress in a shitty diner, having a bad day. You have to learn to adjust to this being normal shit. You can’t just go around ordering people around and pulling your gun out.” Amara all but scolds me.
“I didn’t pull my gun out,” I shrug, “I thought about it, though.”
Arching an eyebrow, she quips, “Really, so when I watched your hand slip to your back, it wasn’t just to grab your wallet so you could leave a nice tip?” Is she mocking me? “Looked like you were doing more than thinking.”
“I will have you know, I can fucking get my gun out whenever I want.”
Snorting, she glares. “You act like I’m taking a piece of your manhood or something?”
“It’s my gun, and if I want to put a bullet in her head, I will.” I take another bite of my food, and then a drink of water, waiting for her to eat her own food.
Shaking her head, she turns her attention to something out the window. “And to think I actually thought maybe you were changing. Thinking maybe you had left behind the murderous person I met months ago.”
Desperately, I want to tell her I have—but the truth is I haven’t. I’ve covered him up. I’ve pushed a part of me to the bottom… but there is no changing. It’s always going to be there.
“If you thought that part of me was gone, you’re naïve. I was born into this life, Amara. I will never allow that part of me to go away. It’s been ingrained into me since the start of life. If I had a choice, believe me when I say I would’ve made one.”
I can all but feel the sadness seep into both of us. There is an ocean forming between us. I thought I actually saved her, brought her out of the dark, but maybe it’s me who is still keeping her in the dark. Maybe I’m what’s hurting her the most.
“Everyone has a choice, Enzo. Everyone has a chance to change things for the better. Your past doesn’t define you and without a future path outlined, you’re free to do whatever you want.”
What is she saying? I’m growing angry from simple confusion.
“There is no path to choose from, Amara. No path to walk along. My path was chosen long before you came along.”
How can I change something I never had a choice in? How the fuck did we even get to this subject? We’re supposed to have a simple dinner, just like normal people.