Chapter 11 - Safe House
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The armored Mercedes tore off the highway, disappearing into a maze of industrial backroads before finally pulling into an abandoned, nondescript warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The heavy metal bay doors slammed shut behind them, sealing them in darkness.
Elvira was shaking violently. She kept her arms wrapped tightly around Leo and Mia as Lorenzo opened the back door to help them out.
“Are you hurt?” Lorenzo demanded, his hands quickly checking Elvira’s arms and shoulders for any sign of blood. His eyes were wild with a terrifying, protective panic.
“We’re fine,” Elvira gasped, clutching his sleeve to steady herself. “The kids are okay. Are you?”
Lorenzo nodded tightly, but as he turned to lead them into the secure living quarters hidden inside the warehouse, Elvira saw the dark crimson stain spreading across the shoulder of his white dress shirt.
“Lorenzo, you’re bleeding!” she cried out.
He glanced down at his shoulder as if it were a minor inconvenience. “It’s just a graze from a ricochet. It looks worse than it is.”
He ushered them into a spartan but fully equipped apartment hidden behind a reinforced steel door. Rocco and the surviving guards secured the perimeter outside.
Elvira immediately turned her attention to the children. She set them up on a small sofa with blankets and turned on a cartoon on the television, speaking to them in soft, soothing tones until their crying finally subsided into exhausted silence.
Once the children were calm, Elvira marched into the small bathroom where Lorenzo was attempting to peel his bloody shirt off his broad shoulders with one hand.
“Sit down,” Elvira ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument.
Lorenzo looked at her, surprised by her sudden authority. He slowly sat on the edge of the bathtub.
Elvira grabbed a first-aid kit from the cabinet. Her hands were still trembling, but she forced herself to focus. She carefully cut the fabric of his shirt away, exposing the deep, jagged groove a bullet had carved across his muscular shoulder.
She cleaned the wound with antiseptic. Lorenzo didn't flinch, but his muscles bunched under her touch. He watched her face intently as she worked, completely captivated by the fierce determination in her dark eyes.
“You didn't scream,” Lorenzo murmured, his voice low and gravelly in the small room.
“What?” Elvira asked, taping a thick gauze pad over the wound.
“In the car,” he clarified. “When the bullets hit the glass, you didn't panic. You just covered the kids. You threw your body over theirs.”
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Elvira looked up, meeting his intense gaze. “I promised you I would protect them.”
Lorenzo reached up with his good arm, gently catching her hand as she finished the bandage. “You are the bravest woman I have ever known.”
