Defender's Heartbeat 2

Chapter 18

Pedro

Manuel was taking on the role Papa should have been playing for Enzo right now. Papa should have sat in that chair, comforting Enzo in his time of need. But he hadn't even bothered to call and ask how he was doing. I could see Manuel holding back his emotions, trying to stay strong while Louis and I were there. But I knew how he really felt. When no one else was around, he hugged and cuddled Enzo like a toddler, even though he probably thought we didn't know. It was like he still saw Enzo as a 2-year-old.

Louis and I left the room, realizing that Enzo actually wanted his bodyguard, Papa, more than his brothers.

"I found out Enzo has a girlfriend," Louis said.

"What?" I was shocked.

"Yeah! He knows he can't have a girlfriend," Louis replied.

"Maybe it's just for fun?" I suggested.

"No, I'm pretty sure it's serious," Louis said firmly.

"What if Papa finds out? I don't know why Enzo can't stay away from trouble," I said.

"If the girl isn't from a wealthy family, Papa will do anything to stop their relationship," Louis added.

"Yeah, I knew that. That's just how Papa is. Enzo is going to get hurt again because of his own choices," I said, sighing.

Enzo

Feeling Papa's warmth, I was glad to see him, but it was hard to express my feelings because of my sore throat. I felt weak. I noticed wounds on Papa's face. Did they beat my Papa? With a weak and shaky hand, I reached out, touching the wounds, silently asking what had happened. He gently held my hand and kissed it.

"Don't worry about that, baby. It's not a big deal compared to what you did. You didn't have to do that, Enzo. You didn't..." he said, tears streaming down his face. I just wanted to save him because I couldn't live without him. He was the only one I had.

Although I wanted to talk to him, it was really hard. I felt so tired, like I just wanted to sleep. My eyes began to close, and I felt Papa stroking my hair.

"Sleep, son. I'll stay here with you," he said.

After a few weeks.

Manuel

It was summer vacation for Enzo. Finally, he was home. I was making sure he was eating well since he was still weak from all the physical and mental trauma. Gerado had been avoiding Enzo ever since he returned. Pedro, Louis, and even Juana were more sympathetic toward him now. However, rudeness and short tempers seemed to be part of this family's genes. I had been sleeping in Enzo's room, on his couch, until I felt he was well enough. He didn't talk much anymore. It was as if he thought he had done something wrong—not his father.

"Are you still not feeling well?" I asked.

"I'm okay," he replied weakly.

"Hey, it's not your fault. It's mine," I said, wrapping my arm around his shoulder.

"I know they beat you," he whispered.

"You don't have to worry about that," I reassured him.

"Why not? It's my fault," he insisted.

"It's not. Nothing is your fault," I said softly, kissing his temple.

"Why does every bad thing happen to me?" he asked, his voice filled with pain. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't speak against his family either. I looked at him, and he stared back, waiting for an answer, as if I had the answers to every question.

Enzo

After I got home, Louis handed me my phone, looking at me with a concerned expression, like he had something to say.

"What?" I asked.

"What what?" he replied.

"Do you want to say something?" I pressed.

"Yeah," he muttered.

"Okay, then say it," I said.

He stared at me for a few seconds, as if deciding whether to speak.

"I'm glad you're okay," he finally said, but I could tell that wasn't what he really wanted to say.

"I know you're not," I said, turning to walk away. As usual, Louis got angry and grabbed my hand roughly, trying to make it seem like it was my fault. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my wound, and I screamed in agony, losing my balance.

Louis's strong arm caught me, pulling me close to his body. "I'm sorry, sorry Enzo. I'm so sorry," he said, his voice desperate. But his apology didn't instantly ease the pain. I was sweating, and I collapsed to the floor, feeling dizzy.

Tears started streaming down my face without any intention. I didn't want to cry, but I was hurting—because Papa (Gerado) shot me. Then they beat Papa for trying to protect me. They dragged me away from the school trip, humiliating me in front of the other kids. Pedro pretended like he cared about me, but he beat me up. And now, as soon as I came home, still mentally and physically weak, Louis hurt me again.

I was too weak to hold it together, so I cried loudly.

Louis tried to comfort me, but I knew he didn't care about me at all. That's always how it is. They hurt me, then say sorry, pretending they care.

"Leave me alone, Louis," I snapped, pushing him away. I despised him. He was always rude to me, always hitting and slapping me. Even now, when I was in pain, he hurt me.

"Go away, Louis! Leave me alone! I know you hate me," I cried out, no longer caring about my dignity. Not that I had any. I was just a broken, useless, weak boy. That's all I was.

"No, Enzo. I don't hate you. It was a mistake. I'm sorry," Louis said. It was the same thing Pedro said after he beat me with all his strength. I remembered the look in his eyes when he did it. He looked at me with the same rage and hatred that Papa had when he beat me.

I heard footsteps rushing towards us.

"What happened?" It was Papa.

"Louis hurt me," I sobbed like a toddler. It felt so pathetic, and I knew it. But my whole life felt pathetic. I realized that while lying in the hospital bed. I was so tired of life.

Papa glared at Louis, his anger barely contained.

"Is it true, boss?" he asked, his voice low, as if ready for a fight.

Louis stood to his feet, meeting Papa's gaze.

"I didn't mean to," he muttered, seeming to forget that he was the boss.

Papa grabbed Louis by the collar, his fists clenched as if about to hit him.

Oh God! They were going to fight again, because of me. I couldn't take it anymore. My eyelids felt heavy, and then everything went dark.