Addicted

Chapter 29

Giovanni Liotti

"It was Adam," he gasped air, holding his side, as his forehead bleeds. "I'm sorry, Gio." He cried, I didn't know if it was out of pain or deception. "I should have told you about it." He groaned, as he tried to sit up. I grabbed his underarm, and sat him upright.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, as I picked him up from the floor, and sat him down on the couch of my office. "What the fuck do you mean, Ace?" I repeated, as my feelings began to bubble up. I felt my anger. And sadness. When I dropped him, I balled my fists tightly, and sighed out of frustration.

"He-" he coughed, holding his side. "He told me what he was going to start doing." He closed his eyes. "I thought he was bluffing, but he started sneaking out, and receiving calls from different places of the world, but especially from Russia." My heart dropped when he told me the place. "He told me that I should have joined him, as he was offered thousands of euros for giving out information." He gasped, as Angelo started helping him to take his shirt off, revealing a bullet wound. Angelo left the room, so he could bring things to take care of it.

"Are you telling me you knew about it?" I exclaimed, feeling the frustration. Just seeing the image of Marina trying to run away from that dirty man's hands. Her small and fragile body. I saw drops of blood on the floor. I closed my eyes, breathing in. "Who's blood is that?" I asked, looking back at Ace.

"You already whos." He sighed, as Angelo walked back with the kit in his hands. Ace took his shirt off. "I'm sorry, Gio, but the advantage we have is that he told me some information, and while he was out on something you sent him, I made copies of the reports he was receiving." He groaned, as Angelo placed the cotton with alcohol around the wound after taking the bullet out. "I have them back home." He explained. "I have them there, just in case. I couldn't keep them on easy access for him." He closed his eyes tightly, as Angelo started sewing the open wound. "Let me call my wife." He started reaching out, but unfortunately I had to stop him for his own good.

"Don't bother your wife right now." I said. "We will do it tomorrow." I said. "Someone get him home, and tomorrow at seven in morning we will be at my house, but at the villa." I explained, as another man came and helped him up. "Don't forget the papers, and try to rest as much as you can." I told him. "Now, everyone out." I exclaimed loudly, feeling my feelings started getting too big to hide. "Now!" I yelled, seeing that they were taking too long.

Everyone hurried out of the apartment. And when the last person walked out, I took my coat off. I looked up, and closed my eyes tightly, and bit my lip. The first tear broke out, and started a river of tears and sobs. I felt my heart constrict imagining her lying somewhere surrounded by those disgusting men. I dropped down on the floor, brushing my hair back, and tears kept tickling my face. I started sobbing loudly. I felt like I couldn't live without her presence close to me. While we were apart, it was torture. Now knowing she was there; probably being treated like an animal. A way she didn't deserve. Her recovering body, under more pressure from those dirty men.

I wiped under my nose, and picked up my coat, and walked out of the apartment. Walking down the stairs after closing the demolished apartment, and to my car. When I stepped inside, I dropped my head against the steering wheel. I punched it, and screamed out of frustration. And anger. And sadness. I looked to my side and saw her seat. Only person who sat there in this car. I drove back to my house, walking in, feeling lonely. Even though we didn't live together in this house, she was not close to me in mind. She must be-

I didn't even want to think about it. I walked down to the training room. I took out my gun, and started shooting at the bull's eye, as the stream of tears started again. As the bullets ran out, I took another gun, and did the same, until I ran out. I took the knives and threw them, as the tears kept running down my face. When I felt the sweat running down my forehead, I dropped the empty gun I last used and took a deep breath.