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“Yeah, just fucking go. Your pussy isn’t worth that much effort,” he continues.
He’s clearly trying to get a rise out of me, but I won’t let him stop me. If he isn’t even going to try and kill me to keep me from leaving, I’m going to sprint down the road until I find someone who can help.
I open the door, and I only get a few seconds of the sun on my face before I hear a flurry of gunshots fired in close range.
It takes me a moment to register that the shots are flying right towards the house, and I duck down just as one of them misses my right ear and shoots through the house.
I scream in a panic as I watch a black SUV come down the driveway after smashing through the front gate. There’s so much going on that I don’t know where to turn, so I crawl back into the house and slam the door behind me. It won’t hold back someone who’s hellbent on getting inside, but it might buy us some time.
“Fuck!”
Marcello screams in pain, gripping his chest as blood pours between his fingers. I glance back at him as my face turns white, and his eyes flash to me with a primal fear mixed with a knowingness that I’ve never seen before.
He knows he could die. What the hell am I supposed to do about it?
As soon as I see the blood, my heart skips a beat. Marcello’s been hit, and his enemies are right outside the door. This could be just as bad for my survival as it is for his, and I need to think fast before the men in the SUV are able to break in.
Before I can act, I hear more shots fired.
I collapse to the floor, praying hysterically to be spared.
ChapterTwenty-Three
MARCELLO
I’ve shot through the door three times, but I have no idea where my targets actually are relative to the door. They could still be firing from the SUV, and shooting blindly only increases my chances of running out of bullets before they get to me.
When I stop and listen, I can hear two of the men shouting that one of them has been hit. I can’t figure out where I hit him, but they’re intimidated enough to speed away in the SUV, peeling out of my driveway and crashing back through what’s left of the gate.
As soon as I’ve collected my bearings, I realize that June is face down on the floor. I can’t see any blood, but I don’t have time to assess her right now. I just need to get her away from the front of the house.
If she’s dead, it’s all my fault. Trying to rescue her from the men who captured her would be in vain, and I would never be able to forgive myself. It would be the first time I ever felt like the person in the crosshairs was completely innocent. This is a death for criminals, not women like June.
I rush over to her side, taking her arm and helping her flip over as she trembles in terror and shock. She doesn’t say a word – she only reaches out to me with a pale face and ghostly eyes. Her skin is clammy, and I scan her for entry wounds or any sign that she’s been shot.
She doesn’t appear to be hit, but she’s shaken up enough to warrant being looked over. I’m able to put my pain to the back of my mind, lifting her up onto my shoulder and carrying her to the back of the house where the main living room is. It hurts like hell, but it’s nothing like the weight of the responsibility of her death on my hands.
I lie her down on the couch, and she stares up at the ceiling as she tries to come back to reality. She’s been badly shaken by the gunfire, and I wouldn’t doubt that this is the first time she’s experienced a shootout at all. It could take weeks for her to return to her former self, and I’d have no idea how to bring her back.
“June, hey, you need to wake up, okay? You didn’t get shot,” I say, smoothing back her hair as she starts to gain her bearings.
“What’s happening? Are you okay?” she asks, coming back to her senses and sitting upright as she examines the wound in my chest.
“I have no idea, but I’m going to call for backup,” I respond as my head begins to feel light, and my vision becomes unfocused.
The room is spinning now, and a deep sense of dread has pooled in my stomach. I know I’m going to bleed out soon. All of the signs point to it. I can feel my blood pressure getting lower by the minute. I’ll need a transfusion, at least. For now, all I can do is try to make sure June, and I get out of here alive. We can figure out the details later.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Tommaso’s phone number. He picks up after the first ring, and I struggle to get the words out before my hearing starts to grow faint.
“Tommaso, I need you to bring out as much help as you can. We’ve been ambushed here at the house, and I’ve been shot,” I slur.
“What? Fuck, are you okay?” he replies with a sense of urgency that sends a chill down my spine. I must sound worse than I think I am.
“Yeah, just get here as soon as possible. I’m not going to be conscious for much longer,” I continue as my vision begins to tunnel.
“Shit, okay, I’ll get as many people as I can. Do you need a medic?”
“Yeah, get me someone who has experience with bullet wounds if you can. Hurry, this is really bad,” I say in a raspy voice as I lie on the floor.
