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“Again? Your bladder’s the size of a peanut.”
“I’m on a detox program. Liquid food for the next seven days. It sucks.” She dashes to the exit.
I walk toward the men’s section and pass a shelf with the sign “New Arrivals” near the middle of the store. I reach for a bottle of cologne to take a sniff. Nope, too strong. Salvatore wouldn’t like it. I’m putting the bottle back when the sound of a gunshot pierces the air.
The bottle slips from my hands, crashing to the floor, as I stare at the bodyguard who was positioned outside the entrance. He’s spread-eagled on the ground, blood pooling all around him. A huge male body materializes in front of me at the same moment another shot rings out. Rooted to my spot, I stare at Alessandro’s back, which is obstructing my view of the entrance, and try hard to get enough air into my lungs. It doesn’t work. All I can manage are quick, sharp breaths. I can’t see anything, but based on the proximity of the bangs, I know it’s Alessandro’s gun firing. Once, twice... seven times. The sound mixes with the noise of other shots, and it seems as though gunfire is raging allaround us. People are screaming. My heartbeat skyrockets and I frantically look around for Pippa. Where is she?
“Vincenzo,” Alessandro says. “The door. Cover us.”
Vincenzo leaves his spot behind the shelf to our left, runs toward the entrance, and continues returning fire.
“Take off your shoes,” Alessandro’s deep voice says as he changes the magazine in his gun and resumes shooting.
The moment I have my heels off, his fingers wrap around my wrist and move my hand to the waistband of his pants at his back.
“Hold on. Walk behind me,” he commands in an even voice. “We’re leaving.”
The sleeve of his jacket has ridden up, revealing a leather bracelet around his wrist. At the knot where the leather string is tied, there’s a small silver pendant in the shape of a teddy bear with a pink bow atop its head.
“Milene.”
I firmly grab his belt, and his hand vanishes from view.
Alessandro walks toward the exit. One step. I follow, holding on for dear life and staying as close to him as possible. Several more gunshots. I wince with each boom. Another step. One more round of firing. He changes the magazine again. Two more steps. We stop at the door, and my eyes fall to the prone body on the ground to my right. The bodyguard’s eyes are open but glazed over. I realize for the first time how young he looks. There’s a hole in the side of his neck which is oozing blood, and a few more on his chest. I press my lips together, trying to keep the tears from falling.
“Vincenzo.” Alessandro’s voice. “Behind Milene. Cover our backs.”
We step out of the store, Alessandro first, with me following. Vincenzo comes out after us, his back pressed to mine, holding his gun at the ready.
A shot rings out, shattering the store’s window to our left. Another one follows. Alessandro keeps walking down the aisle, firing off bullets ahead of us. His left sleeve is wet. When I lower my gaze, I see blood dripping down his hand and onto the white tiled floor. Bodies lay scattered around us. There must be at least twenty. My eyes flit over each one, afraid I’ll find Pippa among them. It’s only men, however, and some of them still have their weapons in hand. Police sirens blare from the street outside, but they seem distant and somehow otherworldly.
“That’s all of them,” Alessandro declares as if he’s discussing the weather. “Let’s go to the car.”
Suddenly, Vincenzo’s arm wraps around my waist, and he tugs me toward him. I gasp as my hand slips from Alessandro’s belt. He spins around as Vincenzo lifts his gun and sends five bullets into the big man’s chest. I scream as Alessandro drops to the floor.
“Move.” Vincenzo painfully grips my upper arm and drags me backward to an emergency exit, my eyes glued to Alessandro’s unmoving form.
* * *
“You piece of shit!” I yell as Vincenzo keeps on dragging me. We’re in the underground parking lot and heading for a black van parked at the far side of the dimly lit garage.
“Shut the fuck up, or I’m going to silence you with my fist.” He squeezes my arm harder and jerks me along.
The van’s side door slides open to reveal two men.
“Where are the others?” the huge bald guy next to the door asks.
“Gone,” Vincenzo says, grabs me by the hair, and pushes me inside.
“What do you mean, gone? We had twenty-five people!”
“Zanetti killed them all.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you kill the bastard?”
“I had to at the end,” Vincenzo snaps. “I was paid to get the woman out. Not to help a bunch of idiots who are incapable of taking out one man.”
“Fucking coward,” the bald guy spits out, raises a gun, and shoots Vincenzo in the face.
