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Gia stands sandwiched between me and her brother. We’re easily outnumbered. The other car’s men step out with their guns pointed at us. I stand taller, willing to risk my life for Gia. I refuse to cower, glaring at each man in the eye as my focus sweeps across the line they have formed.
The sound of metal smashing metal has my eyes darting toward the road. Max has run right through the cars, moving them off to the side. Relief floods through my veins, knowing I have someone on my side.
My free hand goes behind me to feel Gia. More vehicles show up, and I have no idea whose side everyone is on. The only people I trust are my brother and Gia.
I recognize a few of Rossi’s men. I keep protecting Gia while refusing to give anyone my back but her. I still don’t know if this was planned out by the Rossis or not.
It’s not only the Italians here. I recognize a group of the men who belong to the Irish mob. They have crawled their way in like little cockroaches, taking whatever little scraps that are left behind.
Another car squeals in, and I recognize it to be Coy’s. I wish I felt as confident as everyone else looks. The gunfire is at a stalemate as we are now surrounded. Everyone’s guns are aimed at each other.
I watch Coy step out and wonder if this is his doing. No one has turned their guns on the Irish. It’s hard not to be a skeptic.
Gia’s hands stay touching me, allowing me to know where she is. Her fingers tremble. “Romeo?” Her voice is low; I can hardly hear it.
“What the fuck, Luca?” I side-eye her brother, my voice low.
“This ain’t me. What’s Coy giving you?” Luca asks the man who looks to be the leader of the Irish crew.
The man smirks. My finger smooths over the trigger, waiting for someone to make a move. I’m too caught up watching the exchange between Luca and the Irish guy that I don’t see who fires first at us. Luca jumps out of the way, and I fire off one of my last bullets. Everyone is shooting at everyone.
I pull Gia behind the car to get more coverage. Once she’s safely tucked away, I focus on the group. There’s so much commotion that when I look behind me, Gia is no longer behind me.
She’s walked away from my protection and goes toward Coy. What the fuck?
“Gia, what the fuck are you doing?” her brother and I yell at the same time. Her betrayal is sickening. It has my heart in my throat, making it hard to breathe.
She looks at us and says, “La famiglia protegge la famiglia.”
Coy grabs her, and she doesn’t fight him. He holds a gun to her head. “You couldn’t listen, could you?” Coy yells toward me.
She refuses to meet my eyes. I’m at a loss for words that she didn’t trust me to keep her safe. She didn’t trust enough to believe in me. I shake my head, my hand allowing my empty gun to fall to the ground. What’s the point in fighting if she’s walking away?
My palms push against my pants, trying to understand her actions.
“So, about your sister,” the Irish guy says to who knows who. I ignore him, keeping my eyes on Gia.
Her chin has a slight tremble, her gorgeous face void of any color as she becomes Coy’s human shield.
“I did what you wanted. I gave her back. I stopped a war,” I yell. Even though I now realize this was a setup. There was no truce, no wedding. I should have known better.
“Romeo, you’ve always been a pawn in my game.” Coy’s smile is sickening. “Luca, shoot Romeo, then yourself. It’s the only way Gia will live.”
My eyes dart to Luca, prepared to be shot by him. His gun is out, but from where he’s standing, he doesn’t have a clean shot at Coy. If I shoot, I only have Luca protecting my back.
I hear Luca say, “You have a deal.”
I’m expecting bullets to ring through the air, all aiming for my chest. Instead, the Irish leader shoots Coy in the head. His limp body lets go of Gia, and I rush to her.
Grabbing hold of her, I place my knife to her throat. It’s obvious that Luca and the Irish have some sort of deal. I’m willing to place myself in front of her the moment I need to. But for now, they need to think I’d kill her to save myself.
A few other cars squeal, coming into view. They rush to our aid. More guns are aimed at everyone, not knowing who to trust.
“Coy’s dead,” someone from the Irish announces. I’m the next obvious target.
“Let her go, Romeo,” Luca calls to me.
“She’s mine.”
