Protettore.

Chapter 2.

I was sat in the back seat of the black Range Rover with Lorenzo, while Fiero was in the driver's seat. I shifted on the leather uncomfortably as the silence pressed down on me. Fiero was driving so fast the trees outside were complete blurs. I tugged on my seatbelt to make sure it was secure, but this movement didn't go unnoticed.

"Slow down Fiero." Lorenzo said quietly.

"I'm just so angry! How could he do something like that to her? Look at her!" Fiero shouted, gesturing furiously. I curled into myself, trying to make myself as small as I possibly could. I wish I could just disappear, but this was the best I could do.

"I understand that." Lorenzo said calmly, "But you're scaring her, so stop." His voice left no room for questioning and the car slowed down, but just slightly.

"It's alright sweetheart. We're going to take you somewhere safe now." The man next to me assured me. He extended his hand in my direction, and I placed my much smaller hand in his. His warmth seeped in through my cold fingers and without realizing, I tightened my hold on him. I peered up at him tentatively, only to find him already looking at me.

"I'm sorry sir." I mumbled quietly, as my eyes darted away from his face. Stupid Nora. He didn't give you permission to look at him.

"Why would you be sorry baby? You haven't done anything wrong." He gave my hand a little reassuring squeeze.

"I looked at your eyes and I'm not supposed to do that." I muttered.

"You don't have to worry about things like that anymore sweetheart." He promised.

"I don't like getting punishments, Mr. Lorenzo. They hurt me." I admitted to him quietly. From the front seat, I could hear the leather of the steering wheel creak as Fiero gripped it hard enough to turn his busted knuckles white.

"You won't be getting punished like that where we're going." Lorenzo growled. I only nodded. I'd believe it when I saw it. I always ended up ruining things. He'd end up hurting me, just like all the others.

We pulled onto a dirt road that eventually smoothed out into a curved driveway. The house we pulled up to was probably the biggest I'd ever seen. It was completely modern and sleek. It nearly looked out of place in the rustic green woods that surrounded it.

Lorenzo helped me down from the car and walked me through the front door. The interior of the home matched the outside. Everything looked clean and proper. I couldn't have felt more out of place among the grandeur. I ran my fingers over the entryway table that was so well polished I could see my reflection in it. As I took in my surroundings, I could hear Lorenzo giving Fiero instructions and bidding him goodbye, leaving just he and I in the house.

"Now," he said turning to me, "let's get you into some warm clothes." He put his hand at the small of my back and ushered me up the stairs into, what I assumed was, the master bedroom. The room had a wall made entirely out of windows. All of the natural light offset the dark grey walls and black furniture. He came out of the walk-in closet with a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved t-shirt in hand. "Why don't you head into the bathroom there and change?" he gestured to the door next to the closet.

"Yes sir." I held the clothes he handed me tightly to my chest and walked towards the door.

The white marble floor was cold against my feet. I shrugged off the suit jacket he had lent me and took in my reflection. I couldn't recognize the girl in the mirror anymore. I could easily count my ribs and my hip bones looked like they would poke through the skin that was pulled so tightly against them. My entire body was covered in bruises or scars and my once well-kept hair was flat and lack-luster. What bothered me the most though, were my eyes. Any spark or life that once inhabited them was gone without a trace. I felt completely nauseous at the sight of myself, so I turned around and pulled on the clothes as quickly as I could.

I had to roll the pants up four times to expose my feet and the sleeves fell well past my fingertips, almost down to my knees. I was pleased to see he had even given me a pair of socks.

"We'll have to get you some real clothes I suppose." He mused as I exited the bathroom. I must have looked ridiculous in his clothes.

"Mr. Lorenzo, sir- "I began, but he cut me off.

"You don't have to call me Mr. Lorenzo baby girl. Just call me Enzo." He smiled warmly.

"Mr. Enzo, sir,"

"We'll work on that." He chuckled. "What is it sweetheart?"

"Why are you being so nice to me? Why would you want to help me? I didn't do anything to deserve it- "I began rambling, wringing my hands together.

"Nora." For the first time, his tone with me was stern. I immediately trained my eyes on my toes at the sound of my name. "What you don't deserve is to be treated like a piece of meat. You don't deserve to get beat for things like making eye contact. You don't deserve to be living in the same vicinity as that piece of garbage that your uncle is. Do I make myself clear?" from the tone of his voice, I could tell he expected an answer.

"Yes sir." I whispered, trying to get my emotions under control, but I could feel the tears pooling in my eyes. I made him angry. Angry men meant more pain. I heard him sigh and take a step towards me. Instinctively, I took a step back. This caused him to sigh again, and instead of trying to get closer to me, he knelt down to meet my eyes.

"I'm not angry with you baby girl. I'm just angry at the situation you were living in. I hate seeing women mistreated in this way. Does that make sense?" he explained patiently. I only nodded at him.

"Words baby." He insisted.

"Yes sir."