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Pop! Pop! Pop!
Piercing screams ricochet off the walls, echoing in the space. I throw my body over Sloane to protect her as bullets fly through the air. I don’t have time to mourn my best friend. I don’t even know if I have time to pray that one of our guys took the fucker out after he pulled that trigger.
“Max!” I peek over to Tommy, still covering Sloane’s head with my hands. He slides the gun toward me, and I grab it with one hand. I swallow past the lump in my throat and twist my head toward the carnage. I blink fast to make sense of the scene and then slide Sloane out from under me before leaping to my feet. I ignore the sensation that my chest is being impaled with a searing hot piece of metal, raise my hand, and shoot in the direction of Mikey’s guys. One of them lands on the floor next to Mikey with a loud thud. My chest tightens when my eyes fall to Nico where he lays on the floor a couple of feet away from Mikey.
There’s no blood…
Where’s the fucking blood?
I point to the guys behind me. “Get Nico away from him!”
Mikey flails around, his back to us, screaming about revenge and betrayal, bullet holes peppering his shirt. I can’t tell where they’re even coming from at this point since a couple of our guys are now dragging Nico out of the line of fire. Rocco and Kat crouch on the floor next to him, taking them out one by one. Mikey’s been hit plenty from what I can see from my spot against a corner wall. But still he doesn’t drop. He doesn’t show any signs that his body is being used for target practice right now. It’s almost as if his hatred of our family makes him impervious to pain and death. The loud cracks of the bullets explode into the air, reverberating between my temples. I shoot once, twice, and finally, he collapses on top of a couch.
I collapse against a wall, ragged breaths slicing through my lungs. Sloane runs over to me. “Oh, my God!” she screams. “Are you okay?”
I grunt a response because forming words is a little tough right now. I hold her tight and look over at Nico. He clutches the side of his head. Blood oozes from a cut over his left eye, and he swipes at it. “Max,” he rasps, standing up.
“Let me guess. I’m your favorite again because I saved the family and killed the bad guy, right?” I snicker. “It’s about fucking time you—”
“Max!” He shouts, pointing behind a chair in the corner of the room. He runs over to the spot and crouches down next to something I still can’t quite make out from this distance. “Shut the hell up and get over here!”
I drop Sloane’s hand and creep toward him, my throat tight as I approach. I drop down next to Nico.
“Dad?” I choke out, my hand shooting out to the dark red stain spreading over the black wool overcoat. I trace my fingers over the damp fabric, the sound of my father’s labored breathing making my chest ache. Only this time, it’s not because of hot pokers impaling me. “Fuck, Dad, why didn’t you stay in the car? Why would you…? Goddammit! We could have taken care of you. I told you to stay. I begged you to stay,” My voice drops to a choked whisper.
Dad covers my hand with his and squeezes. He looks up to Nico and gives him a slight nod.
“You saved my life, Tony,” Nico murmurs, clasping his shoulder. “You put yourself on the line for me after…everything.” His voice cracks and he rakes a hand through his hair. “Thank you.”
Dad’s eyes flicker toward me. His skin has already transformed from his normal olive shade to a pale ashen, and although his fingertips grip mine tight, they’re cold. So fucking cold.
The page turned, and I now know how this story ends…
“I’m so-sorry,” Max,” he rasps. “For everything. But you…I know you will make it all right. You’ll keep making me proud. I should have told you that so many times before. I want you to know it.”
“I do know it, Dad,” I whisper, a sob creeping into my throat. I swallow it down, but it stays stuck in the back of my throat.
“Take care of your mother and sister,” he whispers, bringing an ice-cold hand to the side of my face. “I love you, son.”
“I love you, Dad.”
The grip on my fingers loosens until his fingers go completely slack. His eyes droop closed, his head dropping back against the wall. It’s almost as if he was waiting to hear those final words before he could let go.
And the sobs I tried to keep buried finally erupt from the depths. My shoulders quake as the silent tears pool in my eyes, spilling down the sides of my face.
So much lost time. So much anger and disappointment. Such a fucking waste.
I squeeze my eyes shut for one second, trying desperately to process everything.
My dad is dead. Christ, how many times had I wished for this over the years? And now that he’s gone, all I want is to bring him back, to start over, to resurrect the relationship we’d begun to form over the past few days…the one we should have had for my entire life.
Nico places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Max.”
I nod, turning to Nico. “Get out of here.”
His brow furrows. “Are you sure you’re okay with all of this?”
“Yeah.” I struggle to my feet and run a hand through my hair. Somehow, the pain in my side has subsided. Maybe it’s because the ache in my heart has taken over and blunted everything else. “I’ll handle it.”
