Page 15 of Saved By A God
Enzo
The past week has been fucking exhausting.
Since the night at Paradiso, where I was paired with a fucking virgin, my anger has been growing. The attack on Gianna and Riccardo added jet fuel to the fire, and my rage is now a living, breathing inferno.
I got to take some of it out on Ryo Tanaka, the leader of the Yakuza’s son, but the relief didn’t last long.
The moment we landed in New York, I escorted Riccardo and Gianna to the Cosa Nostra’s hospital, where all the parents were already waiting.
Knowing they’ll be okay, I point my Mustang’s nose in the direction of my apartment.
The noise in my head is fucking loud, and I grip my steering wheel tighter, the engine roaring as I floor the gas.
It’s like a constant pressure, a chaotic energy I can’t separate into individual emotions. Not anger, fear, or anxiety, but all of it twisted into something relentless.
Most of the time, I can function through it. Other times, it’s so loud I can’t focus on a single thing.
Flashes of when I walked into the room and saw the red dragon tattoo bombard my mind. There was something about the woman I couldn’t place, and I wonder if I instinctively knew she was pure.
I ignored it, though, but feeling how fucking tight she was should’ve been a red flag. Instead, I trusted the process, that I was paired with a woman who wanted the same thing as me.No names. No talking. No fucking cuddling and getting to know each other.
I didn’t bother trying to make her come because I’ve dealt with that kind of request before, where the woman didn’t want to get off, so it wasn’t weird at all. I know some of them are into withholding orgasms, and when they finally ask for it, they come their fucking brains out.
Everything went by the book until I stepped into the adjacent bathroom and saw all the blood coating the condom and my pelvis.
I rushed back into the room, but the woman was already gone. The pillowcase was smeared with makeup, and there were wet blotches, telling me she had been crying.
She didn’t make any distressed sounds and not once said her safe word.
Taking a turn too sharp, the back of the Mustang skids, and I’m ripped out of my thoughts. I fight for control, and after regaining it, I pull over on the side of the road.
My place is just around the corner, but I switch off the engine and suck in deep breaths of air.
Just like my father, I struggle with emotions. It takes us a while to decompress.
Annoyance tends to overwhelm me, and regret cripples me, while anger can send me into a fit of rage.
I’ve spent my entire life terrified that I might hurt someone I love.
It happened a year ago when I almost drowned Rosie.
At first, I rejected Rosie because I value our friendship above all else, but after I hurt her, it fractured the meager chance of us being anything more.
If I ever hurt Rosie again, I’ll blow my fucking brains out.
That’s how much she means to me.
My phone rings, pulling me out of the mess that’s my mind. I let out an exhausted sigh while digging the device out of my pocket, and seeing Augusto’s name, I quickly answer, “Hey. Riccardo is safely at the hospital. He handled the flight okay. Your parents are with him.”
“Good. Thanks for watching over him.”
“Of course.”
“Listen…” Augusto’s voice sounds weird, and it makes a frown form on my forehead. “I have to tell you something.”
I glance at the other cars driving down the road, taking stock of my surroundings. “Okay.”
“We didn’t have Ryo Tanaka.”
