Page 29 of Enemy of Ours #1
My gaze scans the pews behind the small crack of the door, looking at each man pacing between the columns leading up to the front of the aisle.
A few men are sitting in the pews, looking bored; one actually appears to be sleeping, his head tipped back towards the ceiling with his mouth hanging open, drooling.
I count a total of eight, including a teen and a nun, but there could be more in the back for all I know.
My eyes sharpen on the bishop and priest, both standing next to a completely naked Iris.
Both of their gazes are leering at her body, making me see red, and I decide right then that their eyes will be plucked from the sockets with my knife.
I’ll keep them alive long enough so I’m the last thing they ever see.
“Enzo, you take the right, ten o'clock. Three men total. One sleeping in the pew, the other two walking between the columns,” I whisper between grinding teeth, breathing hard as I watch that fucking bishop skim his knife down her belly, “James, one man standing behind a teenager and nun, in front of the church, one o'clock.”
I give them details, not bothering to look behind me as I continue to watch the bishop and priest like I’m homing in on prey.
My thoughts aren’t clear anymore; all I can see is her being touched by perverted men and feeling unhinged, like a part of me locked inside is being released.
This side of me is never revealed because I am always in control and collected.
I try to make most of my kills quick and clean whenever possible.
I’m the Don. I’m supposed to stay calm in any situation, to lead by example for my men and the familia on how we should behave and conduct business.
However, today is a different story. I’m going to make those bastards suffer for making my Iris cry.
She’s being so strong, though; even as tears leak down her cheeks, she doesn’t stop cursing at them and fighting.
That’s my girl.
“The priest and bishop are mine.” With a growl between my teeth, I extract both of my guns from my shoulder holsters and double-check the chambers because I’m fucking paranoid like that.
“Count of three?” Enzo whispers, his features tight and serious.
He gets into a stance on my left side with his guns in his palms and arms up to start shooting as he guards my back.
James places the butt of the rifle on his right shoulder, both hands tight, to hold it steady once he starts shooting.
He comes to stand on my right, one eye squinting so he has a clear shot with his other.
“One.” I begin the countdown, taking a step back from the doors.
“Two.” My one thigh tightens to hold my balance as I lift my other leg up, leaning my upper body backwards to gain momentum when I’m ready.
“Three!” I slam my foot against the church door, kicking it open and striding in as everyone turns their heads in surprise at our loud entrance.
“Such beautiful skin.” I hear the bishop say just before he turns to meet my stare with a sinister grin as he starts to press the blade into Iris’s belly, a trickle of blood escaping the small cut and dripping onto the floor at the bottom of the cross.
“Get your hands off her,” I tell him in a deadly tone, taking off at a run down the red-carpeted aisle to the front of the church with my guns pointing straight at him.
For an old man, he moves pretty fast. One second, he’s pressing the knife into her belly in front of the cross, and the next, he’s standing at her side with the blade at Iris’s neck.
I can feel my heart pounding in my ears as everything narrows down to the knife at her throat.
I know it only takes a second to swipe the weapon across the flesh for it to open and bleed out like a river, ending their lives.
“You don’t want to do anything rash, now do you?” The fucking creepy bishop taunts me, his other hand sliding up and down her side, playing in her blood.
“Romeo,” she whispers in a shaky voice, but I can’t look at her right now, or I’ll do something very dangerous, like give up my guns on a gamble he might let her go and just end up getting us both killed instead.
James takes down the guard who was standing slightly behind the nun and teenager with his gun raised to shoot me.
The boy screams the second the bullet passes through the guard’s skull, soaking both of their clothing from behind.
I glance quickly at the nun, observing her black and blue face and the pure terror in her gaze as the boy next to her trembles in fear, his cross rattling in his hand.
I hear James approaching from behind me and catch a glimpse of his rifle barrel aimed directly at them.
“Go. Both of you get out of here,” he tells the nun, pointing his gun at the back door before turning his attention to the priest, who begins to slide against the wall as if trying to blend in and escape.
“Ah, ah. I don’t think so, motherfucker,” Enzo says as he appears beside me, tucking away his gun as he strides over to the priest and holds him up by his white collar.
The nun quickly grabs the boy and escapes out the side door that leads into the priest's quarters and is probably running like hell to get as far away from here as possible.
I don’t take my attention away from the bishop as he touches what’s mine. I’ll cut off that hand he’s slowly moving up towards her ribs, just under her breasts.
“Don’t worry, Kitten. It will all be over soon.” I promise her, seeing her body wiggle against the cross out of the corner of my eye, trying to get away from the creep's exploring hands.
“I’ll kill her before your gun can even go off,” the bishop threatens, digging the blade tighter into her skin. “Leave now, and the church will spare your lives. This message is for Danny O’Connor alone.”
I shift my left arm, feeling the second blade slide down into my palm and cut me along the existing scar on my hand. I’m counting on this fucker to continue being cocky, not expecting me to take him out with my throwing knife instead of the bullets in my gun.
“Not happening. I’ll let you live long enough to say goodbye to God before I send you to hell.” I smile darkly while delivering my threat, allowing him to see that I am completely serious and willing to do anything for Iris.
Anything.
He starts to open his mouth to spill out more shit, his dirty hand skimming over my girl’s nipple.
I don’t hesitate. I flick my wrist, putting all my strength behind the throw as my knife slips from my hand, flying across the space between us.
He doesn’t have time to react as my blade sinks into his left side, between his ribs, and penetrates his lung.
He blinks in shock, stumbling away from Iris and collapsing on one knee as he holds his bleeding side.
He’s not dead yet, but he will slowly bleed out while his lung makes it difficult to breathe.
I’m already running towards Iris, finally looking at her as I start untying her wrists on either side of the cross.
“I got you. You're safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.” I keep repeating those words even when she starts to sob, leaning her head forward to cry into my shoulder as she hangs on the cross.
“Boss!” Enzo shouts somewhere off to the right, catching my attention with the urgency in his tone.
My hands pause on the ropes, whipping my head to the right, and I see the bishop running toward me.
His eyes are wild, almost manic. He raises my bloody knife above his head to stab me.
The fucker pulled it out from between his ribs; blood is already gushing out and soaking down the front of his robes.
I let go of the ropes, feeling the brush of Iris's hair on my arm as she tries to lean forward to follow me with a cry escaping her lips.
“Romeo! Don’t leave me!” she sobs out, making my heart break at the desperate plea for me to stay by her side.
I pull out my gun, shooting the bishop’s wrist before he can get any closer. His whole hand explodes, chunks flying everywhere… It’s the same palm that touched Iris. He screams in pain; his hand is no longer there, just a stump in its place.
Everything happens at once. The priest shoves his thumbs into Enzo’s eyes, making him let go of him and drop his gun.
My cousin hunches over in pain, blindly trying to reach the priest but misses him.
James aims his rifle at the priest, shooting one of his kneecaps, but I can’t pay attention to what else is happening.
The bishop won’t stop or stay down. I think he knows I’m going to kill him either way.
He charges at me with bared, yellow teeth and tries to tackle me by shoving his body into mine while reaching with his only remaining hand for my gun.
I don’t expect him to fucking bite me, but the feeling of his jagged teeth piercing my flesh between my shoulder and neck takes me by surprise.
His hand wraps around my gun, finger on the trigger, but I grab his arm before he can aim at me or Iris.
Both of our hands are wrapped around the weapon.
He presses his digit down, and a bullet is released from the chamber somewhere above our heads with the sound of glass shattering.
I sucker punch him on his wound with my other arm, his gasp of pain letting me know I hit the right spot.
His grip slackens, and I tighten my fingers around my gun while placing the barrel under his chin.
I squeeze the trigger and fucking shoot his brains out with the last bullet.
Revenge feels good. However, it only lasts for a brief moment. Everything comes with a price, and maybe this is mine for being in a world of crime. Or killing a bishop on the sacred ground of the church. All luck always runs out at some point.
Iris sucks in a sharp breath behind me. I turn around, my eyes wide with panic, and I watch the scene unfold as if in slow motion.
“Iris!” James cries out hoarsely
“No!” I shout, stretching my arm out to reach for her, to shield her with my body, but it’s too late.
That one stray bullet pierced through the stained glass window of an archangel, creating a spider-like web around his wings.
The thing about old churches and their stained glass windows is that they are extremely fragile.
The glass keeps cracking, spreading until the whole thing shatters into a million little pieces.
It’s at this moment that my heart stops beating. Iris is glancing up at the stained painting of the angel Gabriel, her eyes wide as the glass begins to break apart and rain down over the cross… the cross she’s still tied to.
Her cries of pain will forever haunt me.
I will forever carry this guilt in my heart.
Maybe if I had been just a few seconds faster, I could have saved her.
I promised to protect her; she’d be safe with me.
Instead, I can only watch as the glass shreds her skin, falls into her open eyes, and causes a trail of blood to flow down her cheeks while she screams.
This is my fault. All my fault.
I don’t remember moving. I can hardly think straight, but the next moment she’s cradled in my arms as I rock us back and forth, repeating the same two words over and over.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I palm the side of her head, trying to gently wipe away the specks of glass shining on her face, but all the worst of the bleeding is coming from her eyes.
My palm grazes the silk of a ribbon in her hair. I unravel it from behind her head and slowly move it over the corner of her eyes to try to stop the bleeding. But it doesn’t stop.
Green eyes that are filled with blood and deep, thin lines of cuts around the corners are gazing up at me blindly.
What have I done?