But the bastard is smiling. “Finally, I have my revenge for my brother.”
He has worked out that Gianna has sent me.
He doesn’t know the details, but he doesn’t care because we’re both out for blood.
Tossing book after book at him, I move around the room, seeking out something heavy and preferably pointy. But Enzo reads me like a book—pun intended—when he uses a Bible as a Frisbee and clips me in the throat.
I cough, needing air, but soon regain my momentum when he tosses my knife at me, and it embeds into the front of my shoulder.
Immediately, I yank it out because I got my weapon.
Enzo laughs merrily. “Maybe I should keep you alive. You’re fun.”
His words enrage me, but I keep a level head. “You probably shouldn’t make the same mistake Aldo did. He underestimated me, and look what happened to him.”
Enzo’s happiness soon dies, and utter hate overcomes him, which was my intention all along. An emotional fighter is a distracted one.
Emotions make us weak…the first lesson Gianna taught me.
Enzo charges for me, but I duck low and plunge my knife into his back, stabbing him in the kidney.
His white shirt soon stains red.
And just like that, my bloodlust raises her sleepy head.
I want more…
I quickly withdraw my blade and am about to stab Enzo again, but he elbows me in the nose.
Blood pours from it.
This wasn’t part of the plan.
It was supposed to be a surprise attack, and Lettie and I would leave here semi-unscathed. But when Enzo punches me in the stomach, and I feel my underwear growing wet, I realize how wrong I was.
Blood trickles down my legs.
It gushes from my nose.
I need to finish this.
But I can’t.
Once again, it seems Gianna was right because emotions do make you weak, which is why instead of fighting, I do the complete opposite—I run for the balcony doors and kick them open. I don’t hesitate as I dive over the balustrade and drop three stories into prickly blackberry bushes.
I pick myself up without looking behind me and hobble as fast as I can. I have cuts all over and a sprained ankle, but that’s the least of my concerns.
I see an unattended Mercedes with the keys in the ignition. I start it up and take off into the night, cursing myself and cursing Gianna.
I fucked up.
I fucked up big time.
But all I can think about is Lettie.
I can’t go to the hospital.
There is only one place I can go.