Page 96 of Ravage God
I told myself to. I knew the image was going to haunt me for many, many nights, but I just couldn’t look away.
The tall man backed away, his eyes wide with horror. “You’re fucking crazy!”
He tried to run. He wasn’t quick enough.
Elio advanced on him, moving with the lethal grace of a trained killer. The knife glinted in his hand, dark with blood. “You threatened her. You don't get to walk away from that.”
He kicked the back of the man’s knee until he buckled, and he was down. He didn’t hesitate as he stepped on the man’s kneecap. I jumped when the man let out a bloodcurdling scream that would definitely star in my nightmare tonight, just as Elio gave the other knee the same treatment.
Nausea teased my throat.
Elio pulled the man up, moved behind him, and slit the knife across his neck. I did close my eyes then.
This was a side of Elio I'd never seen—the trained killer, the man who’d risen to his position in the De Luca family, not just because of his name, but because of what he was capable of. There was no hesitation in his movements, and there was no remorse in his eyes.
It was a side of him that I never wanted to see again, even if I knew it was who he was, even if I had accepted this part of him.
The body dropped to the ground with a thud, and I opened my eyes then.
Elio was looking at me with a worried expression on his face.
We didn’t say anything. He probably didn’t know what to say to me that would erase what I had just witnessed, and I didn’t know what to say to him because… what would I say?
Congratulations?
The thought was so ridiculous, I nearly laughed. I must really be losing it now.
Movement from behind Elio caught my attention. I watched in horror as the man—the first man he took out—suddenly stood up, another knife in hand.
And he was running toward Elio.
“Watch out!” I screamed.
But it was too late. I could only watch as the man plunged the knife into his back.
Elio grunted in pain and tried to push the man off, but he was relentless.
I ran over to the metal trash bin cover and picked it up, running to the man.
“No!” Elio shouted.
He didn’t have to worry. I never reached the man in time. Someone pulled him off Elio’s back. A flash of movement came too fast for me to make sense of what was happening before the man was suddenly back on the ground, motionless.
Romeo stood there, taking in the scene, then us, before rushing over to Elio, who was now kneeling on the ground. I did too.
“Fuck, brother. How’d you let this fucker stab you?” Romeo said, his voice light, as if he was trying to keep me from freaking out. It wasn’t working.
“A-Are you… are you o-okay?” I asked. The words were barely coming out.
What was wrong with me?
“Baby, I’m fine. It’s just a scratch,” Elio said.
Romeo shot Elio a look at the term of endearment, but thankfully, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he said, “Yeah. Just a scratch.”
He pressed his palm where the knife had hit Elio, trying to stop the bleeding.
It wasn’t just a fucking scratch.
