BANG!

Isabella Garcia

The thought of dying hit me like a brick, and I froze, fear crawling over me. My lips clamped shut, my breath barely a whisper. My eyes stayed wide, still in shock, long after Enzo left.

All I could think was how the hell I’d ended up here.

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes. The fear was crushing, and my heart felt like it was going to explode in the silence that followed.

I listened, desperate for any sound, any clue about what was happening outside. But there was nothing.

Even though my legs were hurting fom squatting, I didn’t sit down. I stayed in my position, crouched, alert and ready. I had to make it out of here. I had to hold Ethan again, play cards with my Cleo, and sip red wine like nothing was wrong.

I couldn’t die here. Not like this.

"Please, God, not like this."

Another bang. Louder. More violent. My body jerked, my fingers instinctively covering my ears.

I squeezed my eyes shut and waited.

Either Enzo shot at the intruder...or they shot at him.

I snapped my eyes open at the thought.

It hadn’t hit me how much I cared about him until the image of his lifeless body flashed in my mind—blood pooling at his side, lips drained of color.

Without thinking, I moved, copying the careful steps I’d seen him take earlier. I stayed low, beneath the height of the windows, and kept my movements silent.

I managed to slip out of the kitchen unnoticed. In the living room, I crouched behind the couches for cover. The front door was wide open, and as I got closer, the voices outside grew louder.

What if there’s more than one intruder waiting for us?

My heart pounded as adrenaline coursed through me, every instinct screaming for me to run. But I forced myself to stay low and quiet, creeping forward as carefully as I could.

I pushed forward, despite my fear, because Enzo mattered that much to me. He needed to stay alive. He owed me answers about why people wanted him dead and why his house had become a target.

“What the hell, man?!” Enzo’s voice roared, cutting through the tension. “This was too risky.”

“But we got him, and nothing happened to you,” another man replied. “I knew nothing would go wrong with me following him.”

Enzo dragged a hand across his forehead, pacing in a tight circle. I ducked behind the wall, holding my breath to avoid being seen.

What did I just see? I was sure my eyes were playing tricks on me. Before I could accept it, I needed to see it again.

Counting to five, I carefully peeked around the corner. Sweat broke out across my skin as the heat rose in my chest, churning in my stomach, and gripping my insides.

There they were—Enzo and another man standing over a person who was sprawled on the ground with blood gushing from his right leg. My gut twisted as I realized the scene was as real as my fear.

Enzo crouched and grabbed the man on the floor by his collar, his eyes dark with a chilling, sinister glare that sent shivers down my spine.

“You did all this?” he asked, his voice low and menacing, the calm before a violent storm.

Without waiting for an answer, he slammed his fist into the man’s face, then yanked him up by the collar again. “You piece of shit!” he snarled, delivering another brutal punch that sent blood spurting from the man’s mouth.

A few drops splattered on Enzo, and he slapped the man in disgust.

Standing abruptly, Enzo stepped out of sight for a moment before returning with a white brick. He tore it open with sharp, deliberate movements, spilling its contents onto the man, who weakly struggled beneath him.

“This is what you betray me for?” Enzo growled, scattering the powder over the man’s trembling body.

It was cocaine. A lot of cocaine. Enough to make my breath hitch in horror.

Oh my God!

I pressed my lips together, clinging to the wall as if it could shield me from the truth unfolding before my eyes.

How did I let myself get involved with someone like this? How did my life spiral into this chaos?

I already knew Enzo was trouble, but now it was undeniable that he was dangerous, and I was in way too deep.

“It’s for Lily, Boss. I swear, it was for Lily,” the man on the floor pleaded weakly.

The other guy silenced him with a harsh kick to the back. “Now Lily’s going to grow up without a father. And who’s to blame for that?” Enzo yanked the man’s head back so hard I thought his neck might snap.

“Please, boss,” the man begged, clinging to whatever hope he had left.

Enzo’s eyes burned with fury. He didn’t hesitate. I barely saw it happen.

In one swift motion, he drew his gun and fired, the bullet striking the man dead center in the forehead. His life ended in an instant.

A sharp gasp escaped me, and I slapped a hand over my mouth, but it was too late. They heard me.

Both men turned in my direction.

Panic overtook me as I ducked back behind the wall, holding my breath and willing myself to disappear.

Heavy footsteps pounded toward me, growing louder with each step. Before I could react, a strong hand grabbed my arm and yanked me out of hiding.

Enzo stood before me, brushing dust off his pants, his fiery gaze still alight with anger. But when he saw me, the flames simmered, his expression softening ever so slightly.

Even then, I couldn’t shake the terror coursing through me. I was face-to-face with the same man who had just taken a life without a second thought.

I was still paralyzed with fear, every part of me trembling. What I had seen was horrifyingly real. The lifeless body was still sprawled on the floor.

The hand gripping my arm was unrelenting, squeezing hard enough to bruise. There was no waking up from this nightmare.

Desperation spilled out of me in shaky, broken words. “I promise I won’t say anything. Please, just let me go.”

Enzo’s voice cut through my panic. “Why did you leave the kitchen?”

He tucked his gun into the waistband of his trousers, but his partner took the opposite approach.

Without hesitation, the man drew his weapon and pressed the cold barrel against the side of my head.

“Marco, put it down,” Enzo ordered, his tone firm but calm.

Marco didn’t budge. His gaze darted between us, but his grip stayed steady. The gun pressed harder into my temple, and I felt it in my bones. This was the end.

I was trembling uncontrollably, my lips quivering as I begged for my life.

In that moment, I realized how much I resembled the man Enzo had just killed. Helpless. Powerless. Begging for mercy that would never come.

I was going to plead with everything I had, and it still wouldn’t save me.

This was it. My end.

“Marco, leave her. She’s with me,” Enzo commanded, his voice steady and unwavering.

Marco’s eyes narrowed. “And who is she?” he demanded, pressing the gun harder against my head. I shut my eyes, bracing for the inevitable, waiting for everything to go dark.

The tension in the room was suffocating. Everyone was on edge—everyone except Enzo. I was terrified, Marco was on the verge of snapping, but Enzo remained composed, eerily calm.

And this was the man who had just killed someone. A man who had a child.

Enzo wasn’t just dangerous, he was a monster. He may not have been the one pointing the gun at me but he was the one I feared the most. 

“She’s my girlfriend,” Enzo said casually, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “She’s mine, and I’ll handle her.”

My stomach dropped. Oh God.

I felt the blood drain from my face as Marco slowly lowered the gun. My eyes fluttered open, and the first thing I saw was Enzo.

Looking at him felt like staring directly into the face of the devil—cold, calculating, and completely in control.

Marco hesitated. “Do you trust her?” he asked, his voice laced with doubt.

Enzo’s answer was both a comfort and a threat. “With my whole life,” he said, his tone resolute.

***

I wanted to run after what had just happened, but with no plan in sight, I had no choice but to follow Enzo’s orders.

He told me to wait upstairs, and a few minutes later, he joined me.

Standing by the door, he asked, “Are you hungry?”

I shook my head, barely able to speak. The thought of food made my stomach churn. I felt like I would throw up if I saw even a crumb.

I had witnessed a man die today, his blood pooling beneath him, and yet Enzo’s first question was if I was hungry?

Without another word, he closed the door behind him and walked into the room. He checked the windows, pulling the curtains shut with meticulous care.

He hadn’t changed out of his clothes from earlier, and the bandage on his shoulder was still visible. I had patched him up myself. I had kissed this man and confided in him about Ethan.

How had we gone from talking about his mother to him killing someone?

Now, he said nothing. I was completely at his mercy, and he owed me no explanation.

In truth, I should feel lucky he was letting me live.

“Do you want the lights on or off?” he asked.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry and raw, and shook my head.

He left the lights on.

Crossing the room, he sat on the large red sofa at the opposite end, a vantage point from which he could watch me.

I was a captive.

He removed his shoes and placed his gun beside him on the sofa, within easy reach.

“You’ve had a long day,” he said, his tone unsettlingly calm. “You should sleep, even if you have questions. We’ll talk in the morning. You’re safe here with me. No one’s coming to get you.”

Then he added, “I’ll be watching you all night.”

What was meant to sound reassuring felt like a thinly veiled threat.

Curled up on the bed, I tightened into a fetal position, closing my eyes as tightly as I could.

I couldn’t sleep. The room felt suffocating, and I could feel his gaze burning into me like a hawk watching its prey.

All I could do was cry—silent, muffled sobs that shook my body—while Enzo sat in the corner, keeping watch.