Page 2 of His Deadly Devotion
Shit, my dad knows?
“Papa is there?” I ask. He’s not going to help Connor. He’d be more likely to finish him off.
“Yes.”
“Don’t let him kill him,” I plead.
“Yeah, because I have the power to stop Pops from doing anything.” My brother shakes his head. “He’s not going to kill him, no matter how much he might want to.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I couldn’t do it. If I couldn’t do it to you, no fucking way Pops can either.” Enzo sounds like he’s disappointed in himself.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“I hope—for your sake—he’s worth it.”
“He just jumped in front of a bullet for me. What more proof do you need?” I counter.
“Pfft, anyone can jump in front of a bullet.”
“But they wouldn’t.” And once I’m done giving Connor a piece of my mind, he won’t do something so damn stupid again either. “I heard two shots,” I say more to myself.
“I fired the other one… at the asshole who had a rifle pointed at you,” Enzo grumbles.
That’s why he’s pissed. He wasn’t quick enough. If it weren’t for Connor, that bullet would be in my head instead of his shoulder. I’m not afraid of death. I never have been. But Iamafraid of living without Connor. That fact was made very clear today.
Even though he says he hates me, you don’t put yourself between a person you hate and a rifle. He loves me. I know hedoes. I just have to figure out a way to remind him. As soon as he wakes up, and after I’m done yelling at him.
Enzo pulls into the driveway of a suburban house. The garage opens and he steers the SUV inside, waiting for the door to go back down behind us before he climbs out. Then he steps around the car to meet me, and the moment I go to tug at the handle to follow him, my dad is there. Waiting for me.
“Aurora, fucking hell.” He drags me to my feet. His eyes roaming up and down my entire body as he searches me for injuries.
“I’m okay. It’s him. He needs a doctor, Papa,” I say.
“He needs another fucking bullet,” my dad growls.
“No. Please, help me help him. I need to help him. Please,” I beg, and my father looks at me. No doubt surprised by the desperation. It’s something he’s not used to seeing on me.
After a moment, he sighs. “Enzo, the doc’s in the main bedroom. Help me carry him up there.”
I throw my arms around my father. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“I’m not doing this for him. I’m doing it for you,” he tells me.
“I know.” I smile as I push up on my tiptoes and kiss my father’s cheek.
“It’d be much easier to just end him here and burn the place down,” Enzo grunts as he pulls Connor’s body out of the back of the car.
I choose to ignore my brother’s words. Despite what he says or feels, he’s helping Connor.
I follow them through the house, stepping into the main bedroom, where Doc has already laid out his surgical equipment. “The bullet is still in there. You need to get it out and wake him up. He needs to wake up,” I rush out in one long breath.
“Okay, let me work on him.” The doctor nods at me condescendingly.
“If you don’t fix him, I will kill you. And then I’ll make sure your wife and children get a small piece of your body delivered every week with a note reminding them of what a failure you are,” I tell him.
“Aurora.” My father’s voice booms from behind me. “She didn’t mean that, Doc. She’s still in shock.”