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Enzo
Gunshots.Those were definitely gunshots. My head throbbed with a pain that radiated through my entire body. Blinking hurt. The two men dropped my arms, electing to draw their pistols instead. The man in front of me did the same. Whoever it was, they were walking into a trap.
The basement door opened, and boots rushed down the steps. Bullets sprayed from every direction. My first instinct was to drop and get cover, but I couldn’t. I stared at that fucker in front of me. Smoke left his gun in slow motion as he shot toward the doorway. I leaped on him and ripped the stupid mask off his face. I knew who he was the moment I saw his arm, but seeing his face confirmed my suspicions.
“Now I know why my dog didn’t like you,” I said before punching him in the face. I ignored the pain in my stomach, ribs, and head. None of it mattered. I kept hitting him until his face became an unrecognizable mess beneath me, and I still couldn’t stop. His words about Gia replayed in my mind.
The sound of gunshots rushed around me, and I remembered that I was in the middle of a fucking shootout. The two men hid within the shadows of machinery. They had the hometown advantage and knew every inch of this basement. I snapped my attention to the doorway, squinting my eyes at the pain from moving my neck. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Was I dead? Had I already died?
Gia.
Not just Gia, but her fucking family. The people who despised me. I had to be dead, in some realm where I existed on memories and wishful thinking. My eyes followed a trail of blood running from Gia’s shoulder. She was limp-wristing her pistol, shooting with her left hand as her right hung at her side.
“Goddamn it, Giovanna!” I screamed at her. I was so fucking glad to see her, but I couldn’t handle losing her in a shootout with the Irish.
Sylvester tossed me the spare rifle in his hand. I caught it midair, despite the pain. The man beneath me gurgled on blood, and I pressed the barrel against his face as I shot. It obliterated him, spreading the blood across the floor and sending a spray onto the wall across the room. I climbed off him and raised the rifle as we pushed toward the back, where the other two men had run off. Shots erupted, muzzle blasts lighting up the darkness. I shot in that direction.
“Fuck,” came the deep voice of Gia’s father.
I spun around and saw the man with the rabbit mask. He’d flipped it upward, exposing his face to us all. His pistol barrel rested against Sylvester’s head, and his body was partially hidden behind him. A human shield. I couldn’t worry about that. He would die whether I accidentally hit him or if I missed the man entirely. I took a quick breath, stared down the barrel, and shot. Everything stopped but the motion of the bullet as it twisted down range. The man’s head snapped back as his body jerked forward, and he fell to the ground with a heavy thud. The sound of a headshot.
Sylvester didn’t hesitate as he aimed his pistol at me. Would he really kill me after all that? After saving his life twice?
He pulled the trigger.
That bullet traveled at an even slower speed than the last one, crawling across the air as I stared down the blast of light at the end of Sylvester’s gun. The bullet whizzed by my head. I thought the old fuck had missed...until I heard the thud of another body behind me.
I turned my attention to Gia. She was pale and trembling from pain. I wound my hand through her hair and looked at her. Ain’t no way I would let her die on me. No way. Not now. I turned to Sylvester, who still looked at me like he wanted the next bullet to go through me. Her brother looked even more pissed. Fair. I had no clue what my face looked like, but by the way Gia stared at me, I knew it was rough.
“Can I have your knife real quick?” I asked her brother, motioning to the large sheath on his hip.
He tugged it out and tossed it at me. I went to the headless Irishman and pulled his hand across the concrete before cutting off his thumb. I rushed to the keypad, put his thumb to it, and the door opened. There was no way I would leave my gun there, so I snatched it off the table, threw the rogue thumb toward its owner’s body, and went back to Gia's side. I holstered my gun and brushed the sweat-soaked hair from Gia's face. She looked awful, even though she threw a comforting smile at me.
“We gotta go, Romeo and Juliet.” Ro tugged at Gia’s left arm.
Instinctively, I pushed his hand away. Her wound was still staining her perfect skin. She was so calm, though, which didn’t surprise me one bit. Giovanna Silvani belonged in this life, and I was stupid for trying to keep her out of it.
Before we headed back up the stairs, I stopped for a quick glance at the man on the ground. The one who Atheist had attacked. I reached into his pocket and took his wallet, ripping his bloody ID from it. It was their second oldest son, Patrick. Fucking Irish pricks. Realization hit me harder than a bullet. My brother met with that man before all of this happened. I didn’t want to believe it, but I had a sick feeling in my gut that he had something to do with it. Couldn’t help but wonder if he shot my damn dog, too. Maybe that’s why Atheist went all Cujo on him.
We met no opposition when we got to the main floor. We didn’t kill their don, but I was fairly certain the three from the basement were his sons. The guards had been mere soldiers. I stepped over a body in front of the basement door. My eyes followed the blood trail, which was becoming gel instead of liquid—cold and sticky instead of warm and fluid.
“Wait,” Gia said as we crossed the open doorway that led to a foyer. Jackets hung on hooks, and shoes dotted the room. Ro and I kept our guns raised and ready as Gia reached for her pocket. She winced as the pain seared through her arm.
I got behind her, reached into her right pocket, and pulled out a cellphone. Bullseye’s phone. She holstered her pistol and snatched the phone from my hand. She stepped into the foyer and looked around, her eyes scanning the walls. There was a desk in the darkened corner, a set of keys sitting on top of it. She opened a drawer, turned the phone on, and slipped it inside. The welcome chime rang out, and she closed the drawer as if she’d never been there.
“There,” she said with pride beaming off her. “The Irish killed Bullseye.”
Fuck, that was smart. Why the hell had I never thought of it? And why was I so fucking turned on by her? It wasnotthe time to look at her the way I was. Everything in me hurt, and she was injured. But those brains of hers? I shook away the thoughts racing through my mind. We had to go.
In the car, I sat in the back with Gia, despite her father’s protest. I ripped off my shirt and held it to her wound. She didn’t cry out in pain, but the sharp inhale showed me she was hurting.
“There’s a home between here and the city. He’s our veterinarian, and he can get her patched up.”
“We have our own doctors, and they ain’t for animals,” Ro said.
“She’s lost a lot of blood. Don’t be stupid.” I pushed my weight into her shoulder. Her blood soaked through my shirt and stained my hands. It was warm and wet and made me angrier with every drop. I was so fucking mad at her for putting herself at risk to save me, but I was also so goddamn in love with her for it.
I gave directions to the home of our vet. He was an animal doctor, but he was the best at mending those who couldn’t—or shouldn’t—go to the hospital. He also had the utmost discretion when it involved his human patients. No one would ever know we had gone to him, and we needed that certainty right now.
