Chapter 9: Torn Between Two Part 2
1554 Words
Chapter 9: Torn Between Two (Part 2)
The next morning came too quietly. The city outside Liyanah’s window was bright, washed clean by the rain. But the peace didn’t last long.
Liyanah stood in front of the clinic mirror, tying her hair back. Her hands trembled slightly. She hadn’t slept much. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Dante’s face his eyes in the storm, the way he’d looked at her before disappearing into the night.
But it wasn’t just him. It was Ricardo, too. The warmth in his eyes, the way he had stayed beside her without saying a word.
Two brothers. Two hearts pulling her in opposite directions.How can she choose?
A knock at the door made her jump.
“Liyanah? It’s me,” Ricardo’s voice came through softly.
She opened the door and found him standing there, his hair still damp from a shower. He looked clean, calm but there was something in his eyes. Tension. A quiet readiness.
“You’re up early,” she said.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said, glancing past her toward the window. “Something feels off. I saw a car parked outside all night. No lights, no movement.”
Her pulse quickened. “Do you think it’s them?”
Ricardo nodded slightly. “The Valentis don’t give up. And they know Dante’s still alive. That means they’ll come for anyone close to him including you.”
Liyanah swallowed hard. “So what do we do?”
He stepped closer, his voice low. “You stay close to me. Don’t go anywhere alone. And if something happens, you run. Don’t argue, don’t look back just run okay.”
“Ricardo—”
“I mean it,” he said firmly. “I’ll handle whatever comes.”
His tone left no room for argument. He wasn’t the quiet, gentle man she had known in the clinic anymore. He looked like someone who had seen war and someone who had survived it.
Liyanah nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll listen.”
He softened then, reaching out to touch her arm. “I just want you safe. That’s all that matters to me.”
Her heart ached at his words. He was strong, but underneath that strength was fear not for himself, but for her.
By midday, the clinic was busy again. Liyanah treated two patients from the neighborhood a child with a fever and an old man with a bad injury. Ricardo stayed close, pretending to check supplies, but his eyes never stopped scanning the door just to protect Liyanah.
Every time someone new entered, his body got tensed. He was calm, but ready a soldier waiting for the first sign of danger.
When the last patient left, Ricardo locked the door behind them and turned to her. “You should close early today,” he said. “Just in case.”
Liyanah frowned. “You’re scaring me.”
“I’d rather you be scared and safe than calm and dead,” he said quietly.
Before she could reply, a sound broke through the silence the soft crunch of footsteps outside. Slow. Careful.
Ricardo froze.
He looked at her and mouthed, “Stay here.”
Liyanah’s breath caught. She watched him move towards the front door, his hand slipping inside his jacket. She knew that look he was reaching for his knife.
The sound came again closer now. Someone was outside.
Ricardo pressed his back against the wall beside the door. His jaw tightened. Then, in one swift move, he opened the door and lunged forward, grabbing the person outside.
There was a grunt, a scuffle, then silence.
Liyanah ran to the doorway and stopped.
Ricardo had a man pinned against the wall, one hand holding his knife against the stranger’s throat.
“Who sent you?” Ricardo demanded.
The man shook his head, his eyes wide with fear. “N-no one. I swear—”
“Don’t lie to me!” Ricardo said. His voice was sharp, dangerous in a way Liyanah had never heard before.
“Ricardo, stop!” she cried. “You’re hurting him!”
He didn’t move at first. His eyes were cold, focused. Then, slowly, he eased the knife away and shoved the man back. “Get out,” he said. “And if I see you near here again, I won’t ask questions next time.”
The man stumbled away, running into the street.
Ricardo stood there for a moment, breathing hard.
Liyanah walked up behind him, her heart still racing. “You scared me,” she said softly.
He turned to her, his eyes still dark with anger. “Good. You should be scared. This is real, Liyanah. These people don’t care who you are. If they find out you’re helping helping us they’ll kill you without thinking twice.”
Her throat tightened. “And what about you? They’ll kill you too.”
He gave a small, bitter smile. “That’s why I’m not planning on letting them get close.”
She reached for his hand. “You can’t do this alone.”
He looked down at her hand on his and hesitated. “I’m not alone,” he said quietly. “Not as long as you’re here.”
For a moment, the world outside didn’t exist. His words filled the silence between them, and she could feel the heat of his hand against hers.
But before either of them could speak again, the door slammed open.
Dante stood there, soaked in rain, a gun in his hand. “They’re coming,” he said sharply. “Three cars. Valentis.”
Ricardo’s expression changed in an instant calm turning to cold focus. “How far?”
“Five minutes, maybe less,” Dante said. “They’re not here to talk.”
Liyanah’s stomach twisted. “What do we do?”
Ricardo grabbed his jacket. “We move. Now.”
They left through the back alley, running under flickering streetlights. The air was thick with tension and the smell of rain soaked asphalt.
Dante led the way, checking corners, scanning rooftops. Ricardo stayed close to Liyanah, keeping one arm around her as they moved.
When she stumbled, he steadied her without a word. When she hesitated, he pushed her forward gently but firmly.
Gunfire cracked in the distance short bursts echoing through the narrow streets.
“They’ve found us,” Dante said, his voice low.
Ricardo pulled Liyanah behind a wall. “Stay down,” he whispered.
She crouched beside him, heart hammering so loud she could barely hear the rest.
Dante peeked around the corner and fired twice. “Two down,” he muttered. “But there’s more.”
Liyanah’s hands shook. She wasn’t used to this the chaos, the danger. Her world used to be quiet, filled with patients and medicine, not guns and blood.
Then she heard footsteps. Someone was coming from behind.
Before she could warn Ricardo, a man lunged from the alley a man in black, gun raised.
“Ricardo!” she screamed.
Ricardo spun around just in time. He grabbed her and pulled her behind him as the gun went off. The shot tore through the air, missing by inches.
He didn’t hesitate. He threw his knife, hitting the attacker in the shoulder. The man fell, screaming.
Ricardo ran forward, kicked the gun away, and slammed the man’s head against the wall. The fight lasted seconds.
When it was over, Ricardo stood there, chest heaving, blood splattered across his sleeve. He turned to Liyanah, his voice rough. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, speechless.
He reached for her, cupping her face gently. “You okay?”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “You could’ve been killed.”
He smiled faintly. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Dante came around the corner, still alert. “We have to move. Now.”
Ricardo nodded and helped Liyanah to her feet. “Stay behind me,” he said. “No matter what happens.”
They made it to an abandoned warehouse at the edge of the docks. The place was cold, dark, and smelled of metal and saltwater.
Dante checked the doors while Ricardo led Liyanah to a corner and sat her down.
Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
Ricardo knelt in front of her, his voice soft again. “Breathe. You’re safe for now.”
She looked at him, her eyes full of fear and something else — something deeper. “You saved me.”
He shook his head. “You don’t need to thank me. That’s what you do for someone you care about.”
She placed her hand over his. “You always protect me. Even when I don’t deserve it.”
He gave a small smile. “You always deserve it.”
Dante turned toward them from across the room, watching quietly. There was something unreadable in his eyes pride, pain, maybe both.
Ricardo didn’t notice. His focus was only on her.
And in that quiet moment, as the storm raged outside, Liyanah saw something she hadn’t before the depth of Ricardo’s love. It wasn’t loud or burning like Dante’s. It was quiet, constant, like a heartbeat that never stopped.
He would fight for her.
He would die for her.That was true love.
And she wasn’t sure her heart could take that.
- Writer
