Fiery Revenge⎪✓

93

☀︎

Taking a step away from the lifeless bastard in front of me, I try to control myself before I lose the raging fight against my mind. Thoughts are tearing through my aching skull, hitting me at such intensity it makes it painful for me to breathe. My father, the man I have been mourning for years, is now drowning in a pool of his blood. 

The bloodshed I caused. 

My eyes cut to the door of the warehouse when it opens, familiar brown eyes land on me and I gasp at the sight of her in here. She shouldn't be here, this situation could've been more dangerous and that would've ended up killing her. 

Walking in her direction, I grasp my stomach that is gradually torturing me with the decrease of my adrenaline. In a matter of minutes, I'll be immobilized because of it, and somehow I find myself thankful to see her here. She might be able to help me before I fall unconscious from blood loss.

She runs when her eyes catch sight of the knife lodged into my gut, "Oh god, Eloisa!"

"What are you doing here, Oriana?" I speak through gritted teeth, wheezing through the pain. 

"Joseph came back and told me what happened, I stole the address from the computer. I'm safe, you've taught me how to protect myself and I even brought a gun," She declares in a collected manner, my eyes flutter and I will for them to stay open.

Her arms support my weight when I pull myself those last steps outside. Opening the door, I inhale the fresh air and order myself to stay calm in the foggy night, there is no time to freak out. My paranoia suddenly grips at my frame and cuts off my breathing, I shove Oriana away from me roughly, my eyes scrutinizing her every move. 

"What do you want from me?" I seethe at her, a haze clouds in my mind.

Her eyes are widened in alarm, "Eloisa?"

Clutching a knife from my bun, I point it at her, "What the fuck... do you want from me? Are you out for me?"

What's happening?

She takes a step away from my threatening posture, "What did they do to you in there? What did you see?"

"Answer the question!" I yell and grimace at my throbbing injury, my eyes try to see through the cloud looming over my mind. The pounding in my chest only adds to my paranoia, the leather of the knife handle in my hand a painful reminder of what just happened in there with my father. 

"You need medical attention," She whispers and raises her hands in surrender. "I'm here to help you, please believe that."

"The fuck you aren't," I scoff and grip the knife tighter in my trembling hand. The feeling of your mental health gradually evaporating from your mind, neglecting you to compete with your demons alone, terrifies me. "It's always the nice ones, isn't it?"

Tears fill her eyes, the slight quiver in her lips awakens me and cuts through my neurotic mind, "I really don't know what you mean, Eloisa. You know me, I'm not dangerous. You've been spending so many hours with Santi and me, we adore you."

Shaking my head frantically, I instantly drop the weapon onto the ground and step away from her in horror. Blazing thoughts scatter through my mind, nothing makes sense to me anymore. Oriana is standing with tears flowing down her face, the sheer panic across her features has me fucking appalled with myself. 

Clutching my head in a tight grip.

She isn't my father. 

She isn't Carlos Romano. 

She is Oriana Romano, the mother of Santi and the cousin of Xavier. 

I hate myself. 

"Fuck," I whisper shakily and grip the pounding in my stomach. "Mi dispiace, Oriana." (I'm sorry).

"No, it's okay," She shakes her head. "You've lost a lot of blood and I don't know what just happened in there."

"I hate this," I say in disbelief, none of it makes any sense. Shaking my head, I hopelessly try to obtain some visibility. My heart is pounding, sweat lining my forehead and the tremble in my hands disturb me. "I don't think you can trust me, it doesn't make sense."

Why would I fear Oriana of all people? She's been the best person to me during my months there, her bright attitude and the love shining from her. Everything played a part in opening me up to caring about them, she is one of the only people I can trust. 

My mind is wired to extremes and I struggle with breathing, the disturbance distracting me from my stomach, and the concept of killing my own father. I endangered her, with a knife, I threatened Oriana and was ready to pounce if she moved even somewhat wrong. 

Oriana steps closer, brave of her, "I won't touch you, because I don't know if you're having a panic attack or not. But will you please come with me to the car? I need to get you to the hospital."

"I'm dangerous," Shaking my head, I squeeze my eyes shut from the ripping of my skin on my stomach. "Drive without me and get someone out here... I can't jeopardize you anymore."

"No, you aren't," She tries to convince me. "I trust you, Eloisa."

"I don't think you should," I murmur after a beat of silence. 

"Eloisa," She speaks powerfully. "You need some fucking help! I'm here, now allow me to drive you to the hospital before you die. I can't allow you to die on my watch, okay?"

Unfortunately, she's right. I do need help if I don't want to destroy even more blood vessels or organs. I don't comprehend how I'm still standing on my feet.  

Nodding slowly and hesitantly, "Okay."

She directs me to the black SUV parked where I left the car Joseph and Xavier drove away in, the need to know if he's okay strains at me. I can't bring myself to ask though, my mind is obviously unpredictable at the moment and I won't endanger her again. 

Sitting down in the passenger seat, I flinch as the knife moves inside of me. The pain nauseates me and I worry about throwing up, clutching the seat underneath me I wince in agony. This trip will be one hell of a rollercoaster. 

When Oriana sits down on the driver's side, I remove both of the thigh holsters and hand them off to her. Drawing the knives from my boots and bun, giving her each and every weapon on me. Something has shifted inside of me, I don't feel in control anymore, which is why I don't trust myself around her. 

She needs to have the upper hand. 

"Keep them away from me for now," I tell her with a definitive nod. 

She doesn't answer me, instead, she drives down the deserted road with unbelievable speed. My eyes want to shut, but I know better than that. It would be irresponsible of me to give in to the need, not before the doctors have me completely fixed up at least. 

As I sit in this darkened car, coughing up blood and wincing by the smallest pressure in my stomach, I realize one thing that throws my whole world upside down. 

For the first time since my life was balanced, I don't want to die. 

Right now at this moment, I find myself wishing for them to fix me and for me to live normally again. 

I don't want to die.