Defender's Heartbeat 2

Chapter 22

Enzo

"Papa, you're so drunk," I said, noticing the smell of alcohol on his breath. I had never seen him this intoxicated before. Had my words hurt him that much? I couldn't believe it.

"I'm sorry, Papa. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I just..." I began, but he interrupted me.

"It's okay, baby. It's okay," he whispered, kissing my cheeks with his unsteady lips.

"What made you so upset?" I asked, concerned.

He smirked. "Why the hell do you want him to love you, Enzo?" he asked, taking another sip of his drink. He looked angry and didn't seem like himself.

"Because he's my..." I started to say, but he cut me off.

"Then who the hell am I to you?" he demanded angrily. "Oh, I'm just a freaking bodyguard," he said firmly, sinking onto the couch.

I sat beside him, feeling a mix of emotions. I felt a little fear; I had never seen him this angry at me before.

"What if, suddenly, his mind magically changed and he started to love you?" he asked, gesturing with his hands. I didn't know what to say.

"Okay, Enzo, now answer me," he said, taking another sip from his glass. "Who do you love most? Gerardo or me?" he asked, looking directly at me.

"You, Papa," I said honestly.

"Then why the hell do you want him to love you and accept you?" he asked angrily and loudly, firmly lifting my chin.

"I don't want it, Papa. I'm sorry. I really don't want him to accept me," I said, afraid Papa (Manuel) might leave me.

Papa put his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him roughly.

"Keep this in your mind, son. If someone tries to take you away from me, I don't care who the hell he is. I'll do what I have to do," he whispered with a sinister look I hadn't seen before.

"You are my son," he said more softly, pointing to my chest. "Not Gerardo's," he added, tightening his grip painfully.

All I could do was look at him in disbelief. He swallowed the rest of the drink in his glass. He looked sleepy, and it was obvious he was too drunk.

Manuel

I was in a jungle, and there was someone in an army uniform looking at me. I knew who he was, but I had no idea why he was alive. Because I had killed him. I killed him with my own hands and even threw him into the river. They found him dead, and nobody knew it was me who did that.

I took a heavy branch from the ground and struck the soldier angrily. He had bullied and abused me so badly along with his friend. I had already dealt with his friend, and now it was his turn to pay for what he had done. Suddenly, it was Gerardo.

"He's not your son, Manuel. He's mine," he said, looking at me with anger and giving a strange smile.

I began to strike him with the branch in my hand until he bled. But he started to laugh louder and louder while I was hitting him, and suddenly I woke up.

I felt something heavy on my lap and looked down to see Enzo sleeping, his head resting on my lap as usual. I took a deep breath, waking up from the weird dream and trying to remember what had happened. Slowly, it came to mind what I had said and done before falling asleep drunk.

"Keep this in your mind, son. If someone tries to take you away from me, I don't care who the hell he is. I'll do what I have to do." Shit. What the hell did I say? I have to learn to keep my mouth shut.

I felt embarrassed and ashamed of my behavior after getting drunk. I hadn't acted like that in front of Enzo before. I could still remember the way he looked at me. He probably thought I was a jealous man who couldn't control his feelings.

I looked at the stool in front of me. There was my empty whiskey bottle, and I was pretty sure I had only drunk half of it. Who the hell drank the other half? Enzo?

"Enzo?" I said, and he gasped, waking up.

"What? Why, Papa?" he asked as he woke up. I could clearly see he was drunk and couldn't even get up properly.

"Why the hell did you drink all of it?" I asked angrily. He looked at the bottle and then at me, guilt written all over his face.

"I...," that's all he managed to say before he vomited all over my lap.

"Great! Feeling good now?" I asked angrily and sarcastically. Then he puked again on my lap. I quickly got up.

"Oh, gosh," I said.

"I'll clean it," he said.

"Okay then. Clean it," I replied. I was mad at him for drinking whiskey, even though he wasn't supposed to. He needed to learn that he had done something wrong, so I let him clean it up by himself.

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Mia got sad because I didn't send enough messages or call her often. I had to tell her a bunch of lies to make her friendly with me again. She cried, saying I didn't love her anymore and things like that. She's really sensitive sometimes.

She sent me messages about her family trips during the summer and who visited her. I didn't have much to say in return. I called her every day, but she wanted to talk for hours. She always tells me she misses me, but I don't miss her as much. I'm used to being alone, so I don't feel the same way. Maybe that's why I don't feel like messaging or calling her all the time. I love her a lot, but I don't want to talk to her all day on the phone. I know I can see her at school.

"Can we go somewhere?" I asked Papa after spending one and a half months at home during the summer vacation. It was really boring. I spent a lot of time on the internet.

"Where do you want to go?" Papa inquired.

"Somewhere, anywhere, before I go crazy," I replied.

Papa made a call to Pedro, and after a few minutes, he returned.

"We can go somewhere, but with two more guards," Papa informed me.

"What? Why? Am I in that much danger?" I questioned.

"Don't forget your father has many enemies, and you are an easy target," Papa explained.

I pondered the idea that I might be considered an easy target because I was still underage.

"Where do you want to go?" Papa asked again.

"I want to go to your house," I stated.

"What? No way, baby. Absolutely not," he objected.

"But I want to," I insisted.

"Let's go somewhere else," he suggested.