I MARRIED A GANGSTER: [2018 EDITION]

Twenty-Four

Francesco quickly pulled me out of the puddle of blood that was now below my feet. By instinct, I grasped onto him. Francesco lifted me and threw the lid over the box. Once we were away from the blood, Francesco sat me down and grabbed my face in his hands.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his worried brown eyes looking into mine, desperately searching for my answer before my mouth could give it.

"Me? You're asking me if I am okay? Francesco, whose hand is that in that box?" I breathe out in a panic.

"I don't know. I need to go see if there is anyone in the house. Stay here." He demands.

I throw his hands off of me, "You do not expect me to just stand here and look terrified while you canvas the fucking house, Francesco. What the fuck?"

"Eleanor."

"Do not Eleanor me, I'm not letting you run off into danger by yourself. I don't care how pissed I am at you, right now." I say. I gripped his large arm, which under normal circumstances I would admire, and pulled him closer to me. I dared him to leave me right now.

"Stay close," Francesco says.

I watch him as he pulls out his gun and walks out of the foyer and towards the kitchen. The air was thick, and something in my gut told me that someone wasn't okay.

Despite the severed hand in the foyer, my stomach still felt heavy with anticipation and vomit. All the alcohol and burgers I had an hour earlier were causing turmoil in my stomach, fighting for which would come up first.

I released a few shaky breaths and followed Francesco into the dark kitchen. He flipped on the light and it flooded the room. Looking around for anything out of place, he pulled me closer to him.

Francesco surveyed the room with a nearly expert eye. He looked closely at the counters, and any dark corners, aiming his gun in any direction he was pointed in.

As he cleared the entire downstairs a thought dawned on me.

"Francesco, the guards," I mumble quietly.

"What?" he turns and looks at me, his brown eyes filled with confusion.

"How could they even let this happen? I don't understand, you said that they were loyal." I question.

How lackadaisical could these men be to let someone sneak past them and intrude in our home?

Francesco furrows his eyebrows at me, "They wouldn't..." He trails off and rushes out of the house and pads down the steps. I try my hardest to keep up with him but he nearly sprints over to the black SUV that was still parked in front of the house.

They had never left.

Francesco opens the door and is instantly grabbing onto the body of one of his guards. The men weren't just sitting there, they were dead. The shot in the head was what it looks like by the huge red dot in the middle of their skulls. I gasp and take a step back as Francesco rushes to shove the body back into the car and close the door. Once the door is shut he turns around and hits it hard.

"Dio!" he exclaims so loudly that it echoes through the trees. I was speechless, I didn't know what to do. There was no way that I could even help him.

"Do you think that someone could still be in the house?"

"The bodies are cold. Whoever did this is long gone." Francesco murmurs. I watch him as he pulls out his phone and dials a number quickly.

"Giuseppe, qualcosa è sbagliato. Please answer your phone." Francesco hangs up the phone and dials another person. He reaches out his arms for me and I walk over to him and grabbed his arm. He pulled me into a warm embrace that made me feel safe.