Page 48 of Chasing Kit

“But I won’t.”

I swallowed. What would Dad do? Stupid question, because the father I grew up with and the one now wasn’t the same person. The stranger I called my father would kill, but I wasn’t like that.

So, what would War do? Damn it. I wished I’d come up with him, but if I had, Sky might be dead. War wouldn’t hesitate. He always protected me.

Her smile widened, predatory and sure. She thought I was weak. She assumed I’d been raised soft, sheltered, and useless. She was wrong. So fucking wrong.

Footsteps thundered from the back rooms, two men bursting through the doorway with guns drawn, shouting so loudly I couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Francesca’s backup. Her smile turned triumphant.

I didn’t aim for the chest or the head. Center mass was for killing, and I wasn’t a killer. Not yet. Dad had taught me that much in our shooting lessons, in training I’d thought was theoretical.

The first shot took the lead man in the knee. He screamed and collapsed, his gun clattering uselessly as he clutched his leg. The second man raised his gun, but I was quicker. I squeezed the trigger twice more, both shots catching him in the thighs. He went down hard, howling, blood spreading fast across his dark trousers.

The apartment went quiet except for the wounded men’s groans and my own ragged breathing. Francesca moved and stood, but I trained the gun on her. My hands shook so badly I could barely hold it steady.

“Get back on your knees,” I said. My voice didn’t sound like mine. It sounded like Dad’s, like someone who knew what violence cost and paid it anyway.

Francesca’s smile finally shattered. She sank to the floor, her cream suit staining with blood that wasn’t hers. Her eyes burned with hatred so pure it felt like heat against my skin.

Her smile widened, as if she’d decided I’d give in to her. “Pass it to me. I’ll forget about everything that happened.”

She suffers no fools. That’s what War had said about Francesca, and I wasn’t one. Sky might’ve done something stupid, but I wasn’t going to let that be his last mistake.

“No.” I hit the trigger.

Bang!

Silence fell across the room. My eyes widened at the new hole in her head. Blood seeped from the wound as she fell backward, her legs bent at an awkward angle.

“What the fuck did you do?” One of the injured soldiers groaned, shoving himself to his feet. He limped toward me. I hesitated for a moment before raising the gun and firing again. This time, in my fear and anxiety of killing someone, I was off my mark. The bullet hit his shoulder. His body twisted, but he didn’t go down. Instead, he roared, running toward me as fast as he could with an injured leg.

I hesitated. I’d fucked up. I killed Francesca Covolo and now I was about to die. Maybe I deserved everything about to happen.

The door crashed open and War pounded across the living room with speed that didn’t seem possible for a man his size and weight. He reached me before the soldier did and brought the soldier down with moves I couldn’t begin to replicate. War moved with more than grace, he fought with efficiency.

The crack of the soldier’s neck echoed in the silent apartment and a choked sound of surprise scraped up my throat. Sky made a similar noise, clearly not expecting that kind of violence.

The second soldier was still groaning on the floor, clutching his wounded leg. War crossed the room in two strides, took the gun from my shaking hand, and shot the man in the head. The sound was deafening in the large apartment.

Silence.

I stood frozen, staring at Francesca’s body. Blood was spreading across the floorboards beneath her, dark and thick. I’d killed her. I’d killed a woman I didn’t know. I’d taken someone’s life, something I’d never expected to do. But I did it.

“Kit.” War’s voice was steady, close to my ear. “Look at me.”

I couldn’t. My eyes kept drifting back to Francesca’s face, frozen in surprise with the small hole in her forehead. War laid his hands on my shoulders, turning me away from the body.

“We need to move,” War said. “Now. We need to get rid of her body.”

“I’ll call Rigo,” Sky murmured, still clearly dazed. He was already on his feet, pressing a hand to his shoulder, wincing but functional. “He’ll send someone to clean this up. You two need to get out of here before the cops show up. The Sabbatinis have them paid off, but they could use you against Arrigo and Ric.”

I finally looked at my brother, shock reverberating through my system. Sky’s face was pale, blood soaking through his shirt, but his eyes were clear. Too clear. He was already planning the next move like this was just another mess to manage. Who was this man? He wasn’t my little brother. Maybe he was another liar, like Dad.

“Come with us.” The words came out rough and desperate. “Leave with us right now. We’ll go back to New Gothenburg tonight.”

Sky shook his head. “I can’t.”

“You just saw what they’re willing to do to you. Francesca was going to kill you, Sky. Your lover⁠—”