AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Are you done, Viglione?” He stepped into me once more, lifting me by my hair. “You’re lucky that Silvani girl was with her pops when we tried to get her. I would havelovedthe opportunity to show you what I would have done to her in front of you. Fuck, she’s perfect. My men are waiting for her, though, so I haven’t quite given up that dream yet.” He laughed. “I’d have stripped her ass naked and forced you to watch as I fucked her. A girl like her would come from it. And then I’d put a bullet through her head because none of this would have happened if it wasn’t for her.”
Gia had nothing to do with anything. Not directly, at least. If anything, she had tried to save Jameson by giving him her body. It was no one's fault but my own. I was certain they were the Irish. He’d given away too many things.
My dark, sadistic gaze met his eyes. Blood cascaded from my nose, staining my teeth when I spoke. I probably looked crazed. I was. He was lucky his goons held me back, because I’d have snapped his neck with my bare hands if I’d been given the opportunity.
He took a step back as the muscles in my body tensed and tightened. I leaped for him, dragging his men with me. I saw only that goddamn mask as I charged at him. His men reasserted their hold on me just before I could reach him.
“Fuck you,” I said, spitting blood on his mask. It dripped over the red LED lights.
He raised the bat again. The sleeve of his sweater rose up his arm and revealed a bandage wrapped around his forearm. It was the last thing I saw before the bat arced in slow motion through the air, aimed for my head.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Gia
Anervous excitement filled my gut. I always felt this way before my family and I went into battle. I double-checked my pistol and racked it. Ro’s solemn eyes looked at me in the rearview mirror. My father’s head rested against his fist. Neither wanted to risk their lives for Enzo, yet we were all risking our lives for him, even though he might have been dead already.
We drove to a steep hill and abandoned the car. Ro popped the trunk, and we loaded ourselves up. I tucked my pistol into the holster on my hip, picked up a rifle, and tugged the charging handle. I loaded a bullet into the chamber and put the sling around me, letting it hang at my side. Ro swung his rifle over his back, but my father opted for just his pistol. We’d cover him.
“You’re sure he’s with the Irish, Gia?” Ro asked.
I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but I was sure enough. “Yes.”
“If he’s not, we are making the biggest mistakes of our lives. You know that, right? There’ll be no coming back from it.”
“I know, Ro,” I snapped. If I was wrong, if my nagging gut wasn’t correct, we’d end up dead for nothing.
The grass padded each step as we walked toward the big home in the valley between two lush hills. It made them sitting ducks. We wouldn’t walk in like the movies portrayed, though. No, this was real life, and our lives were at stake. I lay in the grass, my family keeping watch as I rested the rifle in front of me and adjusted the cool metal against my cheek. I aimed the barrel toward the house and looked through the scope. The reticle followed the motion as I scanned the home. Two guards stood at the door. I had no clue how many could be on the outskirts of the premises or how many people might pour from the house at the sound of gunfire. Even though my weapon had a silencer, they’d know.
I wasn’t a sniper, but I was fairly confident in my shot at this distance, and these men were posted, not moving as they guarded the front of the home. I placed the reticle center mass on the first man, just as my mother taught me growing up. The beat of my heart thumped in my ears, as if I were wearing headphones that drowned out everything but the sounds inside me. I inhaled, holding my breath as I curled my finger around the trigger. All it took was a small motion because the trigger was so light, and the weapon’s power exploded in front of me. The gunshot rang out, breaking apart the silence of the night, and things moved unbelievably fast after the first shot. It’s like a whirlwind, everything spinning around you while you feel stuck in time.
The man made a sound before collapsing and writhing on the ground. The other man looked in my direction, trying to draw the rifle hanging at his side. My heart hammered faster, and I sucked in air. That’s why I wasn’t a sniper. My panic could cost us our lives. I focused the reticle on the second man and finally got him in my sights before he could raise his rifle. I didn’t have time to inhale. I had to pull the trigger.
My shot was too low. It brought him down but kept him in the fight. His blood-curdling scream cut through the night more than the gunshots.
“Fuck. Fuck.” I got off the ground and we made a move before more people showed up. The second man crawled toward his rifle. I got to it before him, kicking it out of his reach as my father put a bullet in his head. The door opened and revealed another guard. He raised his rifle, and I fired into the doorway. Gunfire hailed from the balcony overlooking the hills. Ro raised his rifle and shot, and the sound of a body hitting the ground followed the ting of casings on the concrete. My heart slammed against my chest so hard, I thought it would rip through my skin.
I walked past the dead man. A river of red ran from his head. Judging by the look on his face, the first man I shot died soon after my bullet pierced his chest. He hadn’t gotten that stunned expression they get when they realize they’re dying alone, staring up at the night sky as their blood pools around them. I tried not to think of them as people once I killed them. I tried not to think about the family that would miss them.
Fuck. I was thinking about it.
Ro pushed me aside and opened the door with the barrel of his gun. I followed him, and my father kept watch behind us as we pushed through the house. An unarmed man popped out from behind a kitchen door, meeting the barrel of my rifle. His eyes widened as he threw his hands up. Words sped from his mouth in another language, and I narrowed my eyes on him before waving him off with my gun. He ran through the open door, screeching at the sight of the dead men.
“You’re getting weak,” Ro said.
“Fuck off.”
“Leaving people alive is how you end up—”
“Ro, leave your sister alone. She made her decision,” my father interrupted.
We turned the corner, coming face to face with a guard blocking a door in the long hall. He drew his weapon faster than we could react, and a searing heat tore through me. I didn’t realize I’d been shot until I couldn’t lift the rifle with my right arm. Blood poured down my white shirt and stained my skin. Fresh blood bubbled at the site of the wound. I let the rifle drop before leaning forward and cursing beneath my breath. Ro fired back, shooting the man dead. It was a rifle against a pistol, after all. My father pushed me against the wall and held his hand against the wound. I panted against the pain and kept my eyes locked on the silver chandeliers lining the hallway’s ceiling.
“You’ll be okay. You’ve had worse,” my father whispered as blood spread around his hand. “We have to get you home, though.” He tried to tug me away, but I refused to budge. I came too fucking close to stop now.
With a sharp inhale, I reached down to draw my pistol, but clenched my eyes closed as the movement made the pain course through my entire arm. I used my left hand instead. “Go, keep going,” I told them. Neither made a move. “I said go!” I screamed the words, a desperate sound that made them push forward. All I could think about was saving Enzo. If there was something to guard behind that door, it had to be him.
* * *
