Page 42 of The Price of Mercy

The cold air stung against Julian’s skin where his shirt had once been, but that sensation was nothing compared to the overwhelming wave of panic that surged through him. His body screamed in protest, but he was too weak to move, the ropes that bound him a prison that he couldn’t escape. He thrashed against them, his limbs aching, his strength fading with every failed attempt. But the more he struggled, the more the ropes cut into him, the friction only making the pain worse.

“Stop,” Julian tried to say, the word coming out muffled and unintelligible behind the tape, his throat raw and dry. But the man didn’t stop. He only laughed again; a harsh, grating sound that sent a chill down Julian’s spine, making him feel smaller, more vulnerable with each passing second.

The man’s hands roamed over his chest, cruel and deliberate, as though every touch was meant to degrade him further. Julian’s skin crawled beneath the man’s rough, intrusive touch. His heart pounded in his chest, a drumbeat of terror, and his breath hitched as he felt the man’s fingers curl into the fabric of his torn shirt, pressing against him with unsettling familiarity. The contact felt suffocating, invading, and Julian’s mind spun, his thoughts a whirlwind of panic and helplessness.

“Feisty, huh?” The man’s voice was low, a sick mockery of admiration. “I like that.”

Julian’s body shook with fear, his vision swimming again as tears of frustration and humiliation blurred his eyes. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t escape. The man’s grip on him tightened, and the weight of his presence was suffocating, a crushing force that pressed down on Julian’s chest, stealing his air.

Every part of his body screamed to fight back, to do something, anything, to make it stop, but his limbs were useless, his movements sluggish and weak. The ropes held him like iron chains, and with each passing second, he was losing himself further into this nightmare.

Tears of fear and frustration burned at the corners of his eyes, but he couldn’t even cry out. He could barely see through the haze of terror that clouded his vision, could barely make sense of the situation. His body was betraying him, his mind slipping away with each breath, each pulse of pain that threatened to push him into the abyss.

And then, suddenly, the world exploded.

The deafening crack of gunshots shattered the air, followed by the violent crash of the door being kicked open. The sound echoed through the warehouse, reverberating off the cold, concrete walls, disorienting and sharp. Julian’s entire body jolted, his heart skipping a beat as panic surged through him once more.

The man on top of him froze, his smug expression slipping into one of disbelief, wide eyes locking onto the doorway. Julian’s pulse thundered in his ears, his brain desperately trying to make sense of the chaotic, frenzied scene unfolding before him.

Another gunshot rang out, sharp and final. The man’s body jerked once, then crumpled to the floor, lifeless, his last breath caught in the air, suspended like a fading echo. Julian’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat as his mind fought to catch up with the reality of what had just happened.

It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be; yet, as the smoke from the gunfire curled and dissipated into the air, Julian’s vision swam, and there, standing in the doorway, was the one person he never thought he’d see again.

Enzo.

The world came to a halt as Julian’s gaze locked onto Enzo’s, the man’s expression hard and unyielding, his eyes wild with a fury that mirrored the chaos of the moment. The gun was still raised, his body poised, muscles taut with adrenaline. But for a fraction of a second, their eyes met, Enzo’s dark gaze seizing his, filled with a mixture of relief and something darker, more desperate.

Julian’s chest heaved, breath catching in his throat, as his body trembled uncontrollably. His mind reeled, trying to process the truth:Enzo was here. He was real. Not a ghost. Not some cruel figment of his imagination. But Enzo, standing in front of him, gun still raised, eyes locked on Julian with an intensity that stole his breath. It felt like a dream.

Enzo’s gaze softened, and without a word, he lowered the gun, his movements sharp and decisive. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, his boots echoing loudly against the concrete, his body a blur of action. When he reached Julian, his hands were shaking, though Julian wasn’t sure whether it was from the adrenaline or something deeper, something more desperate. Without hesitation, Enzo dropped to his knees, his fingers working feverishly to untie the ropes that bound Julian’s wrists.

“Julian,” Enzo’s voice was rough, thick with emotion, and laced with urgency. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

The words hit Julian like a tidal wave, crashing into him with such force that it almost took his breath away. Safe. The word seemed impossible. For what felt like an eternity, he had been lost, trapped in an endless cycle of fear, pain, and isolation. But now, in this moment, he was here, in Enzo’s presence, and the reality of it hit him hard. His body trembled, the raw terror and pain of what he had endured finally breaking through the numbness.

As Enzo’s hands worked to free him, Julian’s body responded in a way he couldn’t control. His breath hitched, his chest tightening as Enzo peeled the tape from his mouth with gentle precision. The touch was so tender, so achingly careful, despite the fury that still burned in Enzo’s eyes.

“Enzo,” Julian whispered, his voice hoarse, broken. His throat was raw, his chest tight with emotion. He reached out with trembling fingers, his hand shaking as it gripped Enzo’s arm, desperately seeking proof that this wasn’t just a cruel hallucination, a fevered dream. “Enzo…”

Enzo’s face hardened, his jaw clenched as if to hold back a flood of emotions, but his hands were soft as they cupped Julian’s face. His thumbs brushed away the tears that had slipped down Julian’s cheeks, tender and sure. “I’m here,” he murmured, his voice low, almost reverent. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Julian’s heart clenched at the sound of his voice. The intensity, the reassurance in those words, it shattered something inside him, something he didn’t realize had been there at all. The overwhelming relief that flooded through him left him dizzy, his entire body shaking as the weight of the moment crashed down on him all at once.

He wanted to speak, to tell Enzo how scared he had been, how much he had needed him, but his throat closed, the words tangled and trapped within. All he could do was reach for Enzo, his grip tightening as if letting go would somehow make everything vanish; make the nightmare return.

Enzo, as if sensing his turmoil, pulled him into his arms, wrapping them around Julian in a fierce, protective embrace. Julian buried his face in Enzo’s shoulder, his body wracked with silent sobs, every muscle in him trembling as the floodgates opened. The dam he had built to survive the hell he’d endured cracked wide open, and everything he had pushed down, every moment of fear, every cry for help, came rushing to the surface in the safety of Enzo’s arms.

Enzo held him tightly, his hand cradling the back of Julian’s head, fingers threading through his hair, soothing him in a way that words couldn’t. His voice was a low murmur against Julian’s ear, steady and unwavering. “You’re safe,” he repeated, the words a promise, an oath. “I’ve got you. No one’s ever going to hurt you again.”

Julian couldn’t stop shaking. He couldn’t stop clinging to Enzo, his body trembling with the weight of everything he had endured. How long had he been trapped here, alone, helpless? How many times had he thought he was going to die, his final moments spent imagining that no one would ever come for him?

But now,Enzowas here. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Julian could breathe.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, wrapped in the quiet aftermath of chaos; Enzo’s arms around him, his heart beating in time with Julian’s. The world outside could burn for all Julian cared. In this moment, in Enzo’s arms, he was alive. He was safe.

Chapter 28

The Cost of Freedom

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