If I was heir to the Grimaldi famiglia, the little wolf was my counterpart to his.
One of the men lunged forward with a knife, slashing wildly. The wolf sidestepped with practiced ease, grabbing the attacker's wrist and twisting until a sickening crack echoed through the alley. The knife clattered to the ground as the man howled in pain.
Chuckling, I reached for my weapon. He didn’t need my help. But it would be a tragedy to let Brando Zorzallo be seriously injured on my watch.
Two more rushed him simultaneously. The wolf dropped low, sweeping his leg in a tight arc that sent one crashing into a stack of empty crates. The second man managed to land a glancing blow to the wolf's shoulder, but it onlyseemed to fuel his rage.
Blood pounded in my ears as I watched him grab his attacker by the throat, lifting him clear off the ground before slamming him into the brick wall with enough force to dislodge mortar dust. The man slid down the wall, unmoving.
The fourth attacker, clearly recognizing he was outmatched, pulled a gun.
Mine answered the threat. Two shots to the back, and the last man toppled over.
“The fuck?” Brando bellowed. “I didn’t want him dead!”
I shrugged and holstered my weapon. Stepping into the gloomy light, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Would you rather it was you?”
Brando sized me up before spitting out a mouthful of blood. “Asshole. Now I have a body to clean up.”
“Could be worse.”
The wolf went to the man with the broken wrist, bent, and with a vicious tug, snapped his neck.
“It raises the question, why are you fighting in our territory, Zorzallo?” I rumbled.
Cold eyes, the color of the stormy sea, flicked in my direction as Brando moved to execute the other two men. “I was out for a jog. They jumped me.”
My mouth twisted in disgust. “You ran all this way?”
Brando dispatched the last of his attackers, rose, and shrugged. “What, like it’s hard?”
I let out a short laugh. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too, kid.” Brando walked over and held out a hand.
I untangled mine, shook his, and pulled him in for a hug. His athletic shirt was slick with sweat.
“You’re back then.” Brando nodded, stepping back to look me up and down. “We heard rumors, but no one believed it. How’d you get off the murder charges?”
“The coma wasn’t pinned on me,” I drawled. “The witnesses took extended vacation. The victim’s next of kin died of cocaine overdose.”
“Convenient.”
“Very.” I nodded to the marina. “There’s a security camera on the wall. Might want to take care of that.”
Brando grumbled. “I was making good time on my pace.”
“You can always go for another run…if you don’t wind up in prison.”
He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Fair point. I’ll call some guys down here to disable the cameras and scramble the feed.”
“Don’t worry about them.” I jerked my chin to the four bodies. “Consider it a favor.”
“I don’t want to owe you Grim Fucks anything,” Brando said with a bite.
“A personal favor,” I countered. “What’s the point of being friends if we can’t help one another out? Hmm?”
“You’re a good man, Dominico, even if you are a Grim.” Brando pulled a phone from the zipped pocket of his running shorts.
