She swallowed, her throat dry and sore. And she knew that she needed to drink. Her body reacted to dehydration as she remembered that the last time she’d had any liquid was just before work.
Work.
Images of all she'd witnessed flashed in her mind. Her heart sped up and she drew her hand up to her chest. Another wave of pain shot through her body.
The deep breath she forced herself to take was supposed to calm her yet she felt like she was drowning without the possibility to come out for air. The fingernails spread on the floor, the cut-off tongue... And then this awful sound of the knife slicing across the throat. The deep cut. The blood spatter drenching everything around her.
It could not be true.
She didn't see that.
That's what she kept on whispering to herself, squeezing her eyes shut when the tears threatened to escape. Scars always left their mark. And mental marks were the worst kind of torture she could think of. A vision of all those times she couldn't take it.
She had many of those to prove.
Another one had just found its way inside her head.
"You should drink some water. I put the glass right next to you."
She realized that she was no longer alone. Elio was there as well and her fear escalated. She opened her eyes wide. Then she glanced at the pillow that she was halfway laying on, noticing that it was stained red.
Blood.
A shiver travelled up her spine. The adrenaline kicked in as she rose, completely ignoring the pain she was in. The blanket that she was covered with slumped, revealing her half-naked body. She was only wearing her bra and panties. Her skin rough with goosebumps.
The shadows exposed Elio's muscular figure as he slowly approached her, stopping at the frame of the bed. He wanted to give her space, knowing that she was terrified as it was. She tried to compose herself, push away the thoughts of Hunter's dead and nearly dismembered body.
Something was telling her to be careful. Each gesture, word could bring her death just as easily. The last thing she would see then would be this smirk that had graced Elio's face as he had taken the knife to the man's throat.
Slashed.
No regret.
No guilt.
Nothing.
Despite all the abuse she had experienced as a child and later as a teenager, she had never in her wildest dreams realized that there was something worse waiting for her. That whatever images she'd had in her head till this point were to be replaced by a cold-blooded murder.
And it was all her fault.
Savannah could barely handle the Enforcer's presence in the same room but looking into his eyes and seeing that monstrous satisfaction was out of the question.
The bed moved slightly as Elio pushed his hands against the frame, leaning on it. He was staring right at her. She could feel the intensity nearly burning her from within. She ripped away her sheets, standing up and sprinted towards the room’s ajar doors.
"Savannah," she heard his voice. Calm and collected.
And she had every intention to leave it far behind but the moment she grabbed the handle, she felt his hands on her hips. The pressure on them made her whirl around. Her back crashed against the wooden texture.
A sob escaped her lips, tears finding its way into her mouth. The taste was salty and brought even more memories that Savannah had tried hard to forget about.
A futile act.
"Savannah," Elio whispered, cupping her cheeks. His breath caressed her skin. A minty scent mixed with nicotine.
She turned her head, hoping that the man would remove his hands. He loosened his grip, barely touching her seeing as the girl was scared of what those hands had done not long ago.
He was dead.
Gone.
Because of her.
"Look at me," he said softly.
No response.
"Savannah," he tried again. This time he was more demanding. She felt his fingers on her skin as he was rubbing her jaw with his thumb. He needed her to calm down. "Look at me."
This time it sounded like an order and Savannah felt in her bones, quickly following his words. Her vision blurred because of the tears, however, she still saw those piercing eyes that now reminded her of death.
"You're safe."
If she weren't completely numb, she would've laughed at the words that were nothing more than a lie. He was a liar. A murderer.
A Made Man.
"His battle is never going to be yours, baby girl," Elio promised as if it that was supposed to heal her wounds. Repair the scars that studded her mind after each situation she'd been a victim of.
Her breath slowed down.
She fucking calmed down.
Why was this assurance enough? She didn't believe his words, did she? Words were just that - words. They were good anchors for control, nothing more. They fell through the air like confetti to appease the eyes for a single second just for people to stump on them the next. They were fleeting.
She swallowed, regaining control over her body. It was still banged up, however, that wasn't on her mind right now.
Elio wiped away her tears and she saw his eyes clearly. Worry shone in them and even the darkness that surrounded them, with just the moonlight providing a sliver of light, she still recognized this flicker of humanity.
Something that she started doubting immediately. Elio Conte wasn't capable of such trivial emotions.
Her hands went up. They were covered in the remnants of where they'd been - pressed against the floor where Hunter’s body had been laying on. Blood had coated it entirely. The horror of the night as real as ever.
And with every intention of smothering her fear, Elio slipped his fingers in hers, drawing their hands to his chest. His heartbeat was a metronome, keeping the rhythm of her own at a steady pace. He was still staring at her.
His touch was no longer a problem. She reluctantly admitted it to herself.
"I don't want to hurt you. You are safe with me," he said as his lips pressed
