Page 47 of Humility

“I’m going to kill him,” Angelo swore as he stomped through the house. I finished sanding the drywall that needed to be replaced from the leak and wiped my hands off on a rag.

“Why?”

Angelo stopped mid-stride. “What do you mean why? I gave him a direct order, and he disobeyed it. I should shoot him in the head.”

I rolled my eyes as a vehicle pulled into the driveway, and Angelo took off out of the room.

“This ought to be good,” I said, grabbing my drink to watch the show. The yelling was almost immediate, and then there was a loud crash. I whistled as I wandered down the stairs. Spotting a loose board with some wood sticking up, I pulled the sandpaper from my back pocket to fix it.

“Fucker,” Angelo growled as he and Enzo rolled through the hallway into the living room and back again. Exchanging blows like kids in the schoolyard.

“I’m allowed to fucking spend time with her,” Enzo said.

“No, you’re not.”

I ran my hand over the wood, happy it was smooth, and Jasmine wouldn’t get a splinter. There were so many other issues I never paid attention to before, but I wanted this place perfect for her.

“Yes, I am.”

There was another loud crash, and I shook my head as I stood to break up the childish argument.

Walking into the living room, I sat my drink down and grabbed Angelo by the back of his T-shirt and jeans before heaving his ass onto the couch.

“Hey!” He growled as he glared at me with his gun in his hand.

I picked up Enzo and pushed him backward until his ass found the chair on the opposite side of the room.

I pointed at Angelo. “If you point that thing at me, you better use it.” He narrowed his eyes but lowered the gun.

“I wasn’t planning on shooting you, just him.” Angelo nodded at Enzo, who was dabbing at the blood dripping from his nose. I tossed the rag his way.

“Fuck you, Angelo,” Enzo snarled.

“The pair of you are idiots who both look stupid. If Jasmine were in this room right now, she’d leave disgusted.”

Enzo glared at Angelo. “He started it.”

“Shut up. You’re not making this any better. How did I end up the fucking voice of reason?” I flopped down onto the couch beside Angelo.

“Do you really want to shoot him,” I asked and picked up my drink.

“I want him to keep his hands off what’s mine. That’s what I want.”

“She’s not a thing. She’s a person and, therefore, cannot be yours. You aren’t buying a bottle of alcohol off a shelf,” Enzo argued.

“Enough. Holy fuck, you sound like ignorant ass wipes, and you’re making my head hurt.” I rubbed my forehead. The headache these two caused made me want to choke them both.

“Angelo, is Enzo your friend or not?” I asked, trying for reason.

“I’m not sure anymore.”

“Just answer yes or no,” I said.

“Fine. Yes.”

“Enzo, is Angelo, your friend?”

He crossed his arms and looked away. “I thought so.”