Chapter 21

An hour ago, I landed in Italy, thinking I was going to the same place as Natasha—Vittoria Island. But instead, Enzo demanded Rossi bring me to his house and then leave. So, here I am, alone with the devil.

The pain from Enzo's fingernails digging into my arm as he slams me down into the chair has tears stinging the back of my eyes. He smirks at me, his entire face dripping with evil as he slaps a piece of duct tape across my lips before he begins to tie me up.

Fastening the rope around my wrists, he pulls tighter before rushing toward the window. "Right on time," Enzo says with a sick smirk, looking at the security footage as Hudson heads toward the front door, gun drawn. "You know, I never wanted you, you stupid slut, but did you really think I'd let you make a fool of me? Fucking my security guard behind my back? And before you try to lie about it, don't. I saw footage of him sneaking back into my house the night he was supposed to be on a flight back to the United States." He looks at me with disgust. "I know he came back just to fuck you, you dirty whore."

Moving back in front of me, he takes the gun and drags it up my stomach, between my breasts, before pushing it into my neck. My heart beats at a speed that hurts, but I don't cry. No, tears aren't going to save me. And I refuse to look weak in front of this piece of shit.

"Your boyfriend is going to die," he taunts me before wrapping the tape around my ankles. "And so are you. But you're going to burn up in this building. Nothing will be found of you besides bones." His blackened eyes stare at me. "Same with Hercules. Only his skull will have a bullet hole in it."

He smashes me in the forehead with the gun, and the blow to my head hurts so bad that I feel dizzy. When he heads toward the door, I try to scream, but it's muffled through the tape, and I know no one can hear me. Not even Hudson. I should have known this plan would backfire. Enzo, as monstrous of a human being as he is, isn't stupid. And right now, he's beating Hudson at his own game.

Now, the tears stream down my face as I fight to get out from the rope restraining me, knowing that Enzo set out of this room to kill Hudson. I exhaust myself, flailing around as hard as I can, wriggling to try to break myself free. It's no fucking use. I'm stuck here.

All while he dies because he came back to save me.

Rossi was sent to the crew complex after dropping me off, so it's just Hudson, me, and Enzo. And soon, it'll just be Hudson and me. In a burning house, not even in the same room.

Hudson, please, just be okay. I cry hysterically, moving around so much that I flip the chair over. Looking around, I search for something that could free my wrists and ankles.

Swiftly, the door handle wiggles a few times before it busts open. For a second, my lip trembles, and I'm scared it's going to be Enzo. But instead, it's Rossi.

"Briar," he says, rushing toward me, and out of nowhere, I smell the faint scent of smoke.

"Let's get you out of here." He pulls the tape from across my mouth and takes a knife from his pocket to begin to free me from the rope before helping me to my feet. "Come on. You need to get out of this house. He just doused the entire place in gasoline and set it on fire. Within five minutes, this whole place could be up in flames."

"Not without him," I say sharply. "I am not leaving without Hudson."

"Briar, I'll get him out of here. He would want you to save yourself first."

He grabs my wrist, yanking me toward the stairs, and I pull away.

"I am not going anywhere without him, dammit!" I hiss. "Now, take me to him. And we can all get out of here . Together ."

For a second, he stares at me, and I can tell he thinks it's a bad idea. But he must know I'm not leaving, or he understands we don't have time to argue. So, he takes out a gun and hands it to me before taking a second one out.

"Enzo isn't stupid. He has backup on the way. I know he does." He nods toward the weapon in my hands. "Do you know how to shoot a gun?"

"I do," I say, nodding. "When my dad got sober for a while, he got back into hunting, and he wanted me to go. So, I took a safety course."

To this day, I don't know why I took the course. I've never liked weapons, and I don't hunt. But for whatever reason, when my dad asked us kids and Walker said no, I stepped in. I guess, in a way, I just wanted my dad to have something that wasn't getting high. And even though he never ended up shooting an animal, we had fun those early mornings, walking through the woods, pretending we were big bad hunters.

"Follow me," he mutters. "And stay close."

As we head through the house, the smell of smoke becomes worse, and I know our time to get Hudson out of here is limited. With every passing second, I begin to panic, especially when smoke actually comes into view. But when we approach the kitchen and Rossi signals for me to be quiet, I know we're close to finding him.

"You and that slut are going to die," Enzo says, though his voice doesn't have the same level of confidence as usual. In fact, he sounds like he's in pain. "She will always belong to me, Hercules. She is Romano property now. And she will die as Romano property."

"Call her a slut again, and I'll make sure your brain is splattered all over that fucking wall!" Hudson hisses.

When we peer around the corner, I take in the sight of a guard I've never seen holding Hudson with a gun pressed to the back of his head while Hudson's gun is drawn toward Enzo.

"The second you pull that trigger, he's going to put a bullet in your skull," Enzo says matter-of-factly.

"It's over, Enzo," Hudson huffs out. "You're fucking finished."

Enzo only smirks at this before giving his guard the slightest nod. When I see his finger push harder on the trigger … something comes over me, but when I draw my gun to shoot the man before he can shoot Hudson, a loud bang goes off next to me as Rossi fires his. The man keels over, but when his gun falls to the floor, Enzo grabs it.

"Say good night, motherfucker." Enzo points the gun at Hudson's chest, pulling the trigger.

Before I have time to think, I shoot Enzo in the chest over and over again. For a split second, his eyes look down at his wounds, and his hands go to his chest. Then, he sinks to the floor. His eyes are wide open as he takes his last breath. Smoke slowly filters in through the kitchen, and the smoke detectors all begin to wail.

I killed someone. I'm a murderer.

Rossi rushes toward Hudson, and when I look at him, everything begins to spin. Because I see the bloodstain on his shirt and I know right away that it's not Enzo's blood.

It's Hudson's. Because he's been shot.

I look down, putting my hand on the bloodstain as it spreads further across my chest, soaking my white shirt before I fall onto my back. Everything becomes white noise ringing in my ears.

I've been shot at many times. I've been nicked or grazed with a bullet too. That hurt like a bitch. A mean, bitter, coldhearted bitch. But this? This is different.

I don't feel anything. Well, besides one thing.

Death. This feels like death. At least what I imagine dying feels like.

It should hurt .

Why doesn't it hurt?

The fact that it doesn't hurt makes me thankful in a way. Because I know when she died … she didn't feel a thing—that's what I keep telling myself anyway. But how can I know for sure? They say time heals all wounds. But six years later, I feel like I'm just reliving that same day.

I was never going to win this war. That's something I've realized in the past few seconds. Though I think somewhere deep down, I've known it all along. With people as powerful as the Romano family or Beckett Benson, I was never meant to come out on top. But the further I got into this quest, the more wrapped up I became in it all. I became obsessed with being the hero. No, being her hero.

Briar James made this entire mission one thousand times more complicated than it was supposed to be. All by just being here. And by being herself.

Like tree roots in the ground, spreading their way through the soil, that's how this world is. Every deal I've witnessed, every crime I've seen committed, has brought me further and further in. And now? I'm no better than the rest of these cocksuckers. Why? Because I stood by so many of them. Not stopping them because I truly didn't think I had the power to do so.

Take an already-impossible task and then add her. Briar came into the mix, and I knew this was a suicide mission for me. Because despite how fucked up things have become, I couldn't leave her.

The room begins to spin, and my vision blurs. And as much as I want to fight the darkness that so badly wants to take over and try to stay alert, I begin to fall headfirst into the land of nothingness. Drifting off into a serene space, and I'll admit, it feels nice. Because right now, I'm so fucking tired. And maybe, if I let myself go … I'll see her again.

My body suddenly feels heavy, like I'm stuck here in this spot. I feel like I weigh one million pounds as I slowly begin sinking into the floor. A warm, tingly feeling spreads across my chest.

Blood. That must be blood.

"Hudson!" my sweet Dove screams, reminding me she's here. "Hudson! Wake up!"

I feel so torn. On one hand, she's here. And I don't want to leave her. On the other hand … I know my first true love is waiting for me. I've betrayed her by falling for Briar James, but I think she'll forgive me. I hope so anyway.

Her voice isn't calming like it usually is. Instead, she sounds scared. No, traumatized. I try to open my eyes to assure her I'm okay, even though I know I'm not, but it's useless. And the more I panic, scared that I'll never see her beautiful face again, the further I fall into this pit of nothingness.

I should have saved her from this place. And from these awful people. We could be on a beach right now. Sitting in the sand while she works in her sketchbook with those fancy colored pencils I got her, sipping a girlie drink. I imagine her in a bikini, her hair blowing in the breeze as she runs toward the ocean. I can hear her laughing, even though I know it's all in my mind. Still, somehow, the thought of her happy keeps me calm, knowing I'm about to die.

Her scent faintly hits my nose, and she lays her head on my chest and cups my cheek. "I love you," her sweet voice cries. "Stay with me, Hudson. Please, don't leave me here alone."

Even though I know it's wrong and I've fought it off for weeks, I want to tell her that there's nothing more I'd love in this world than to stay with her. Forever. I want to say I love you too. That way, she knows. Because I've never gotten the chance to tell her. I've known it for a while now, but I was too fucking scared to say the words out loud. Too ashamed because I felt guilty about loving another woman who wasn't my wife. Now that I want to yell out the words, everything fades to darkness, and I know I won't get the chance.

She will never know.

And just like my first go-around with love, I've failed. It's all I seem to do.

I never wanted our love story to end like this, yet here we are. And if I could go back and change it all … I wouldn't. If protecting her means dying, I'd do it. Every. Fucking. Time.

I can't stop screaming. My brain feels like it's spinning, and I have no idea how to stop it. He's dying. Hudson is dying, and I don't know what to do besides sit here and scream.

"Rossi!" I screech a bloodcurdling scream at the top of my lungs, trying to catch my breath as my vision blurs through tear-soaked lashes. "We need to get him out of here!"

I cry harder. Long, deep sobs come from my body as I press my hands to the blood-soaked shirt on Hudson's chest.

"Please," I sob, "stay with me."

If it wasn't for me, he wouldn't be here. He would have gone straight to Vittoria Island, and he wouldn't have gotten shot.

"I love you." My voice barely croaks the words out as I wheeze. "Please. Just stay with me."

Taking his phone out, he kneels by Hudson and brings it to his ear. "Hale is down! Hale is down!" he yells into the phone. "Send help! Now!" He puts one hand on Hudson's wrist, and his eyebrows pull together. He fights back a sob. "I'm losing him! You need to fucking hurry!"

The smoke grows thicker as the fire Enzo set overtakes more of the house.

"Shit!" Rossi curses, looking down at his friend and at me. "We need to get out of here! This whole place is going to be up in flames in a few minutes."

"I can't leave him!" I scream. "I won't!"

"I'm not asking you to, Briar!" he hisses before he goes behind Hudson and slides his hands beneath his armpits. "You get his feet!"

I rush to his feet. Strength comes from somewhere deep inside me, and I lift his legs. His lips rest in a straight line, and his face is getting paler by the second.

He's going to die. I know it.

Each step we take is a struggle, but we push through down the hallway. The closer we get to the exit, the thicker the smoke gets, and the harder it becomes to breathe.

I cough a few times, my throat and lungs burn, and I start to panic. "Rossi," I bark out.

"We're … so … close," he says back, barely getting the words out himself.

The smoke becomes impossible to navigate through; we run into the wall and stumble over our own feet as we carry Hudson. But both of us refuse to leave him behind. I think we'd both die before we did that.

My vision begins to fade, and black dances at the corner of my eyes before growing bigger and bigger.

Just push through, I tell myself over and over.

But my brain grows fuzzy, and my body feels weak. If I'm going to die, if this is how it ends, at least I'll die with this man. A man I've come to love more than anything else.

We could have been so good together. If only this world wasn't so fucked up and cruel.