Chapter 3 Who Will Save Her
Sookie stared warily at the man in front of her, no response forthcoming. Suddenly, Enzo reached out and yanked the cloth from her mouth.
“Fuck your mother!” Sookie swore, realizing she didn’t mean to say that. The man also froze, staring at her intently.
“I’ll ask again, who are you?” Enzo looked at the foolish girl, finding it somewhat amusing.
“Can you let me go, please?” Sookie suddenly relented, truly not wanting to die.
“I won’t say anything,” she vowed.
“I know you won’t,” Enzo glanced at her, calmly stating.
He finished handling his equipment, then walked towards Sookie, hoisting her over his shoulder. Sookie screamed in terror was this the end for her?
But when Sookie saw the large bed, over 2 meters wide, she felt her blood run cold. She screamed, cried, and fear engulfed her, tears streaming down her face.
What was he going to do? She would not let him succeed!
“Don’t you dare touch me!” Sookie roared, refusing to yield, not for anything.
“Shut up!” Enzo bellowed, tossing Sookie onto the bed, irritated by her excessive words.
He grabbed a piece of rope, binding her ankles and securing the other end to the bed frame. She panted, looking at Enzo, feeling like she might pass out at any moment adrenaline surged through her body, combined with the effects of the alcohol she had consumed, making her dizzy.
The next moment, Enzo pressed down on her, securing her hands to the bedhead.
Just as Sookie was thinking about biting off this man’s ear, Enzo moved away from her.
Huh?
Enzo paid no attention to Sookie’s guarded expression.
He was in no mood for this, damn it.
Tonight had gone from bad to worse. First, he had to attend a meeting he had no interest in, on the very day he despised the most. Now, Ricci was dead, and he had this baggage tied to his bed.
Enzo took a cigarette, kicked open the fire escape door, and stepped outside, breathing in the cooler air. He looked at the open space, the city lights sparkling in the distance, the extravagance of the wealthy and the clamor of the poor not reaching him here.
For so many years, he had been alone. He had lived in this building for 20 years, the sole resident since the moment he officially became the head of the Shadowy Saints.
Strictly speaking, the building belonged to the Shadowy Saints. In the past, this place had been used for all sorts of activities, from a garage for storing stolen cars to a safe house in emergencies. For a long time in the 90s, the “Shadowy Saints” used it as a transit point for smuggling old-fashioned American-made firearms to the French Republican Army.
He took a deep breath, gazing across the strait to the city. He would be moving from this place soon; after all, the Poles wouldn’t give up easily.
But he liked it here. It was quiet, and he liked quiet. Lost in his thoughts, he heard a muffled scream from the attic, followed by the sound of something crashing to the ground, perhaps a vase or his desk lamp.
Enzo gritted his teeth in frustration. He glanced at the city in the distance, ran his fingers through his hair, and roared into his phone.
He pressed Landon’s name on the phone. When it rang, he held the screen to his ear.
“I’ve got a problem,” Enzo said.
Landon, his brother and one of the heads of the Shadowy Saints, was at dinner. A woman’s voice responded, “You with Tessa?”
Enzo could almost hear the smile on his face.
“Yes.”
“Bring her along. I need to talk to both of you. It’s about business.”
“Just a moment.”
The phone was silent for a minute.
Honestly, when they were kids, he never thought anything would come of Landon and Tessa Jones sneaking around. Tessa Jones was the daughter of Carl Jones, the head of the Shadowy Saints. It was a recipe for disaster.
Like so many other stories, theirs was twisted. But in short, after her father’s death, Tessa eventually returned to Boston, taking over the leadership of the Shadowy Saints. In other words, his brother was going to marry the queen of the Boston crime scene.
“Hey, Enzo?” Tessa’s cautious and calm voice drifted through the phone. She had inherited her father’s steel-like composure and the ability to assess situations calmly.
“Hey, Tessa. Sorry to interrupt your dinner.”
“No, it’s fine, we’re done. Is everything okay? How did the meeting go?” she asked.
“Not well.”
“What?”
“Ricci’s dead, Mikhail’s injured,” Landon cursed over the phone. “Damn it, Enzo, are you okay?”
Enzo nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose, then looked down at his shoulder. It was bleeding, but he knew it wasn’t severe just a graze from a bullet. He had endured worse.
Enzo briefed them on the meeting and the guy in sportswear, along with Ricci getting shot. He said he needed to leave quickly since Mikhail and Barton’s people were camped out at the South Manchester Line.
He was composed, he had thought it through. Normally, he would have told them everything as usual. But he didn’t mention the part about the witnesses – he didn’t know why he did that.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Enzo?” Tessa spoke softly.
“To be honest, I’m fine.”
Enzo didn’t know why he hadn’t mentioned the girl to them, nor why he was being secretive about it. Maybe he realized how bad the situation was now, especially since he, as a damn fixer, should be good at cleaning up.
Tessa sighed, and Enzo could hear her frustration in the sigh.
When her father managed affairs, he always wanted to push the Shadowy Saints towards more legitimate endeavors. Carl’s goal was to reduce criminal activity and increase legitimate business purposes, and his daughter had been following in his footsteps since taking over. He had been assisting her in facilitating peace between the Italians and the Poles, at least as part of the “move towards legitimacy.”
So far, everything had been going smoothly.
Well, except for the fact that he had been seen being chased in town and was saved by a college girl, and now he had this stupid woman tied to his bed.
“Are you okay?” Landon’s concerned voice echoed through the phone.
At the care in his brother’s voice, he managed a bitter smile. “I’m fine.”
“Listen, we’ll figure out what to do about Barton tomorrow. I’ll let you know later,” Landon said.
Enzo murmured in response and hung up the phone. He was feeling a bit disoriented today, constantly thinking about bringing this girl back and not daring to tell the organization about her. But he quickly straightened things out in his mind.
Because she was a liability, a key to destroying their entire organization, and the best solution lay in the gun at his side.
He shook his head, took a deep breath, and sighed.
He needed a damn drink right now.
He sighed again, turned and walked back to the attic, closing the fire door behind him.
At that moment, he heard another crash.
At that moment, his head snapped towards the now-empty bed.
Damn it.