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Ididn’t have to look hard to find Carla. Bitch is sandwiched between two very handsy guys while trying to keep her drink from spilling. When did she get a drink? The one grinding on her ass is a blond fuck-boy and the other tool looks like his brunet twin. Shaking my head, I reach for her, yelling her name above the music, but blondie grabs my hand and tries pulling me to him.
“There you are, bitch. We’ve been waiting for you.”
The fuck?
I try to pull my hand from him, but he tightens his grip, most likely leaving bruises, and grabs my waist with his other hand. “Oh no, you’re not going anywhere, little girl. Someone’s been looking for you.”
This motherfucker.
Using my free hand, I snatch my switchblade from the back of my waistband and push the button as I bring the point up to his throat. I watch with satisfaction as his eyes widen in shock and fear.
Baring my teeth, I growl, “Get your filthy hands off me now or I’ll slit your fucking throat.”
To show him I’m not talking out of my ass, I put enough pressure on the blade to draw blood. The little red drop sliding down my blade brings a feeling of contentment over me. Having a wicked bastard like this at my mercy instead of the other way around is just as euphoric as an ecstasy pill.
At least it is for me.
As much as I’d love to watch my blade open his artery, I don’t. Instead I knee him in the balls and shove him away from me when his grip loosens. The sack shit drops to the floor and I kick him one time in the face.
I look up and see the Renzetti brothers knocking people out of the way to get to me, but then I hear Carla yelling, “Get the fuck off me, asshole! Stop!” I spin on my heel and see shit for brains is trying to drag my best friend to the back of the club.
Hell no.
Carla is struggling against the prick, but he has her from behind, so she can’t really get a good swing at him and she’s losing the strength to continue putting up a fight. Plus, those damn neck breakers she has on her feet aren’t helping her at all.
With my blade in hand, I start toward them, but before I can take more than two steps Marco rushes past me and wraps his arm around the guy’s neck and pulls hard; the twat keeps his grip on Carla, though.
Gavriel gets to me. “Fanculo, fuck! Are you all right, Sia?”
Instead of answering him, because he can clearly see I'm fine, I push him toward his brother and say, “Help him!”
Gavriel doesn’t, though, he goes straight to blondie, who is trying to sneak away now that his little balls aren’t preventing him from standing, and grabs him by the collar. He drags the fucker to where Marco is beating the shit out of his buddy and slams him against the wall.
Gavriel moves like a dancer. His movements are fluid and smooth. No hesitation or stutter; he moves like a trained killer.
I rush over to a disheveled Carla. “C, you good? Did he hurt you?” I lift her face to mine and see she’s sweating like a motherfucker and she’s mumbling something, but her labored breathing is hard to hear past.
“What’d you say, babe? I can’t understand you.”
She looks like she’s hyperventilating, but I finally hear the word “roofie.”
Fuck! I lift her up off the floor and hold her waist while she puts her arm over my shoulder.
“Guys! She needs help!” I stumble my way to them just as the bouncers arrive. “They slipped something in her drink. I need to get her to a hospital and make sure she’s not overdosing.”
Marco reaches out his hands to help me with her, but I pull her back because even though he just saved her ass, I still don’t know him and I won’t let anyone handle her while she’s in this state. He backs off and I see the tick in his jaw, but instead of angry he looks genuinely concerned.
To spare his feelings, I tell him, “Lead the way out of here. She needs fresh air.”
Gavriel is speaking with the bouncers who have the bloody faced dickwads in zip ties, but I don’t pay much attention because Marco begins walking to a back exit. As soon as we get out to the alleyway he takes out his phone and calls someone. Gavriel comes out and says something in Italian to his brother that I don’t understand but then turns to me and asks again if I’m okay. This time I answer because even though I can take care of myself and can handle myself in most situations, it’s refreshing to have someone else actually give a fuck about my well-being.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I lift my free hand up and click the button, popping the bloody blade out. “I never go anywhere without my knife and I never hesitate to use it. Thank you, though. I got blondie down, but it wouldn’t have been for long and I'm scrappy as fuck, but I can’t fight two men at once.” Retracting the blade and tucking it into my jacket pocket, I tell him what the bastard said to me while trying to break my wrist.
“Don’t worry about them anymore. I have them tied up in the basement. I’ll question them and find out what they were thinking and who this 'someone' is that's looking for you. I’ll take care of it, okay? I promise,” he says, touching my chin. “I know you’ve been taking care of yourself for a long time now, but you don’t have to anymore. My family and I are rumored about and most of what you may hear is true, but I swear it on my oath that you can trust us.” He’s so sincere it has my chest tightening.
Marco nods. "Yes, you can trust us. I swear it as well,il coltello. Let me carry Carla, she lost her shoes and I don't want her getting a cut out here. Please?"
I smile at the way he called mecutter. I guess he saw me inside.
