Emilia's POV
The gun fired. And everything slowed instantly.
I thought it only happened in movies.
I thought that scene where everything would slow down including the bullet, and you watch... trapped in the horror of it all as it hit the protagonist's loved one was an exaggeration.
I really thought it was until I saw it happen to me.
I watched the bullet move. I saw the second it went wild, ricocheting off the brick wall above Linda's head. Because something had slammed into the shooter from the side—something huge...something fast.
Something that gave me back my ability to breathe.
A giant.
He was massive—easily six and a half feet, built like a freight train. His arms were the size of my thighs. Hell, his arms were four of my thighs tied together.
He grabbed the shooter by the collar and lifted him off the ground like he weighed absolutely nothing.
Then he started using him as a drum.
He slammed the man against the pavement. Once. Twice. Three times. I stopped counting by the fourth time.
The gun skittered away from my father's thug as his bones cracked under the pressure of the giant's hand. Blood sprayed and just like that, he stopped moving.
It took a second to sink in my head. He was dead.
The giant tossed him aside like garbage. I took a quick breath.
I didn't wait to see if he was friend or foe.
Because this was little fucking Italy and he was Vittorio Conti, which meant foes were lurking at every corner. Friends not so much, except the girl squatting on the floor with a gapping hole in the abdomen.
"Linda!" I dropped to my knees beside her. Blood soaked through her jacket, her face was pale, her breathing shallow. "Lyn, stay with me. Stay with me!"
"I think I got...shot" she rasped. "Did I get shot, Baby? Oh... that's a lot of blood". She crumbled to the ground.
"Linda!" I hooked my arm under hers and hauled her to her feet. She cried out, this heartbreaking sound that came from the depths of her heart and from pain.
Her weight crashed against me. "It's okay. I will get help"
"That's really...a... lot.... blood...a lot of blood. I'm dizzy"
"Stay awake!" I yelled at her.
Behind us, the giant turned. His eyes found us.
I dragged Linda toward the van. Every step was a war. Her blood slicked my hands. My legs screamed. But I didn't stop.
I yanked open the passenger door and shoved Linda inside. She slumped against the seat, moaning.
I ran around to the driver's side—
And froze.
The giant was standing right in front of me.
Up close, he was even bigger. His face was round, almost soft, but his eyes were sharp. Calculating. He wasn't breathing hard. He'd just beaten a man to death with his bare hands, and he wasn't even winded.
He took a step toward me.
I pulled the knife—the trucker's knife, the one with the wooden handle—and held it out in front of me.
"Don't come any closer. I will kill you. I don't want to but I swear I will"
Maybe he would have believed me if my hand was shaking like a leaf in a storm and the tears running down my face didn't help.
He stopped. Looked at the knife. Then at my face.
"Easy," he said. His voice was deep, rumbling, but not mean. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Back the fuck off."
"My name is Theodore." He didn't move. And I didn't take the knife down "Everyone calls me Teddy. I'm a friend of Luca's."
My heart stuttered. "Luca?"
"Yes. Luca"
I held the knife tighter. Ready to stab him with it if he came closer. If he got in the way of finding help for my best friend.
"I don't—" I was suddenly winded. "—believe you."
I shook my head vigorously. Tears running down my face, exhaustion almost making me cold. "I don't believe you"
I looked inside the van, at Linda who was clawing at the door in pain and I said. "She was right. He's not coming." I was visibly crying now because it dawned on me, if the giant can beat someone the size of my father's thug to death, I stood no chance with my little rusted knife.
I cried even harder. "No one's coming. He's not coming"
"Of course, he's coming. He always does" He took a step closer and I took one back. "He sent me to find you. To protect you." He took another step, slow, careful. "You're Emilia, right? His...girl?"
His girl?
More like a his one night stand.
"See?" Teddy smiled. It was almost gentle. "I'm here to help. Let me take you somewhere safe. Both of you. Please."
He reached out his hand.
I didn't think. I just moved.
I slipped to the side, grabbed his wrist, and plunged the knife into his thigh.
Teddy grunted. His leg buckled. But he didn't scream. Didn't fall. He just looked at me with something like surprise.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Don't hurt me. Please" I whispered. Then I yanked the knife out, jumped into the van, and slammed the door.
The engine roared to life. I peeled out so fast the tires screamed.
In the rearview mirror, I saw Teddy standing in the middle of the road, one hand pressed to his bleeding leg, watching me go.
He didn't follow.
I drove like I was on fire. The van fishtailed around corners. The city blurred past.
Linda moaned beside me, her hand pressed to her side, blood seeping through her fingers.
"Hold on, Lyn." My voice was shaking. "Please. Hold on."
"Emi…"
"Don't talk. Save your strength."
"You stabbed that guy."
"He was gonna touch me."
Linda laughed—a weak sound. "Good girl."
I gripped the wheel tighter and drove faster."I need to get you to a hospital"
"It will be the first place they will look for us. Take me to cabin. I will be fine."
**
We barely made it to the safehouse before Linda passed out.
I half-carried her inside, her weight dragging me down, her blood soaking through my jacket—the trucker's jacket, the one he'd given me. I laid her on the old couch and pressed a wad of torn bedsheet against the wound.
"Wake up," I begged.
Her eyes fluttered but It didn't open.
I pressed harder. Blood soaked through the sheet. I grabbed another. And another. And another. It soaked through it all.
I didn't even know such a tiny girl had that much blood in her.
It was a clear thought. Linda was going to die if didn't do something about it.
I looked around the fucked up safe house, nothing in there could save her but maybe something out there could.
And so, I opened the door, it was raining. When did it start raining?
And I stepped outside, holding the knife up in surrender.
"Come out...come out, Giant. I know you are lurking." I stumbled on a rock and fell down, the muddy ground soaking my dress. "Do what you want with me? But save her. Please, save her"
There was nothing. So, I screamed it.
"I surrender. Tell Baba I surrender. Pleeesee. Help me.... please help us. Anyone, please"
Surrendering took every ouch of strength in me. First thing I saw was the car's headlight, then heard the sound of the car. I didn't bother looking up. I just laid on the muddy floor and accepted my fate.
Someone got out of the car. I didn't move an inch. There was freedom in knowing and accepting defeat.
Rainwater dripped from his leather coat. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead. His green eyes—those gold-flecked eyes I'd dreamed about for weeks—were fixed on me.
Green-gold flecked eyes!
My eyes widened.
Green-gold flecked eyes!
Luca!
"Emilia!"
The knife clattered to the floor.
I didn't remember moving. One moment I was across the room; the next, my fists were clenched in his shirt, my face buried in his chest. He smelled like rain and smoke and something underneath—something that made me want to cry and never let go.
"I thought you died," I choked.
His arms wrapped around me, crushing me against him. "I'm here."
"It's too late." Tears soaked his shirt. "She's bleeding. She won't wake up. I don't know what to do. I think I just killed my best friend, Luca—"
He kissed me.
It wasn't gentle. It was desperate—a clash of teeth and need, his hands fisting in my hair like he could hold me together by sheer force. I melted into him, my sobs turning into something else, something raw and terrified and hopeful all at once.
When he pulled back, I gasped, "Help. Please help."
He cupped my face, his thumb brushing away tears. "Okay. I'll help."
A weak laugh came from the door. "Wow. Touching."
Linda's eyes were open—just slits, but open. Her smirk was bloodless but unmistakable.
"Save the drama for after I die, yeah?"
I pulled away, but Luca kept an arm around my waist. "You're not dying," he said. Not gentle. Commanding.
"Says the guy who got us into this mess." Linda coughed, blood flecking her lips. "What are you doing here anyway?"
"It's okay." I grabbed Linda's hand. "He's going to help. He'll save you. Won't you, Luca?"
"Sure. How's he going to do that?" Linda's eyes narrowed. "Can your one-night stand get Enzo Marchetti to back off? Can he tell your father to stop being a dick?"
Luca's jaw tightened. "They won't touch her. No one will."
"Bullshit." Linda's voice was weak but still sharp. "Unless your first name's Enzo and your last name's Marchetti, you're just a pretty burden. No offense."
I flinched at the name. I hated it. I hated them with everything I had.