Page 96 of The Masked King

A scream lodges inside my throat.

I hear the click of Enzo’s fingers on the triggers of his weapons.

But before either of us can react in that millisecond it would take for Enzo to release bullets into our captor and pray that the spark doesn’t reach the gasoline ring, more gunfire erupts elsewhere in the house.

Malevsky’s mouth twitches at the corners. “It would appear we have visitors.” He shuts off the flame sitting atop the lighter by closing the lid, and slides it back into his pocket. “The larger the audience, the louder the applause. Talk amongst yourselves while I’m gone.”

He crosses the room and leaves via a door on the opposite side to the one through which Enzo entered. I think he locks it, but it’s hard to concentrate with the fear numbing my senses and the uncontrollable shivers ravaging my body.

Enzo doesn’t miss a beat. He produces a knife from somewhere and slices through the ropes binding me to the seat. As soon as I am free, he folds me into his arms, fisting my hair, and holding me so tightly I can hardly breathe through the fluttering in my chest.

“I thought I would never see you again,” he says, his voice husky, when he releases me enough that I can tilt my head back and peer into his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Enzo.” I need him to hear it before we figure out next steps, even if we run out of time. “I didn’t want it to⁠—”

Enzo silences me with his lips, and the last twelve months, the heartache, the emptiness, the tears, are all erased when we kiss. How did I ever convince myself that I could live without him? What part of me believed that I’d be okay if I never got to feel his arms around me again, or taste his kisses, or hear him say that he loves me?

“I hate to break up the emotional reunion,” Bianca’s voice carves its way through the bubble surrounding me and Enzo and drags us back to reality with a hefty jolt. “But I need to know now if you’re going to leave me here so I can weigh up my options.”

Enzo holds the back of my neck with one hand and rests his forehead against mine. “I’m going to get you out of here, Demi, but I need you to trust me.”

“I do,” I whisper.

“Even if it means walking away?” I open my mouth to protest, and he lets me go, holding my gaze. “Promise that you’ll do it. For me.”

I swallow, but the lump in my throat doesn’t go anywhere. “I promise.”

He nods once and goes to Bianca, sawing through the ropes biding her arms behind her seat. My eyes follow him as if I’ve been starved of this view and am now feasting till I’m full to the brim, momentarily distracted from our predicament and the seconds ticking down to our impending demise.

They don’t speak. Even when Bianca is free and rising unsteadily to her feet, Enzo doesn’t instigate a conversation. Perhaps there’s nothing left for them to say to each other.

Gesturing for us to stay behind him and out of view, Enzo crosses the room to the door that Malevsky used. It’s locked. He places his ear to the wood and listens, following the gunfire which sounds more distant than it did to begin with; or maybe it’s my imagination playing tricks on me, offering me a glimmer of hope when none exists.

Bianca, obviously impatient, steps around me and holds out her hand for a weapon. “If you’re not going to get us out of here, I’ll do it myself.”

The coldness in her tone outweighs any gratitude she might’ve felt towards her brother for setting her free, and I instantly bristle. It’s almost as if she doesn’t want to be loved. As if she long ago forgot how to love herself and no longer believes she’s worthy of it from anyone else.

“You’ll understand if I decline, Bi.” Enzo holds onto his weapons. “But I came here to save Demi. I’ve seen you switch sides when it suits you, and I don’t trust you to carry out my wishes after you put a bullet in the back of my head.”

Bianca huffs out a laugh. “Suit yourself.” She walks back across the room to the other door and tries it, banging it with her fist when it’s locked too.

I half expect it to barge open and knock her out as Malevsky’s foot soldiers come crashing into the room, but nothing happens. The gunfire is still providing the soundtrack, but now I’m convinced it’s further away than it was to begin with.

It must be what sways Enzo to join Bianca at the door he came through. Gesturing for us to stand back, he shoots the lock, splinters of wood scattering in all directions as it explodes.

We wait with our backs against the wall as he opens the door and steps outside first, both weapons cocked and ready. Nothing happens, and his face gives nothing away when he reappears.

Enzo hands over a gun to me, ignoring his sister’s accusatory glare. “We stick together until we’re outside, then I want you both to get as far away from here as possible.”

I take the gun, still warm from Enzo’s hand, and I can’t believe this is what my mind chooses to focus on right now. “What about you?” My gaze slides down to the gaping hole in his shoulder.

“I can’t leave Gio to fight my battle.”

Tears sting my eyes and I don’t care that my sneakers are squelching gasoline or that Malevsky can kill me with the tiny spark of a cigarette lighter. I stand on tiptoes and kiss him, knowing that this might be the last time.

“Don’t die, Enzo.” My voice is barely audible.

“I have no intention of going anywhere now that I’ve found you.”