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More gunshots go off. I look up at Carmine crouched nearby, gun raised. I catch a glimpse of Burian escaping into the back rooms. It’s not too late to chase him, not too late to finish all this, except the thought of leaving Renata alone breaks my heart and makes me sick.
Carmine turns to me, rushing over. “Is she okay?” he asks.
“She’s okay,” I say, hugging her protectively. “Go after him.”
Carmine nods, sparing only a glance for the old man, but we both know it’s too late for him. Too much blood. Too far gone. He rushes after Burian, disappearing into the back room.
“What happened?” I ask, holding her tightly. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay,” she whispers, touching my face. An ugly bruise is forming around her eye. Rage fills me like hot air, and all I want to do is rush off after Burian. “Lanzo. Grandpop.”
Those two words deflate some of my anger. “I know,” I say, trying to be as soothing as I can. “I know, baby, I know.”
“We need an ambulance,” she whispers, crying now. “Please, Lanzo.”
“Oh, baby,” I say, hugging her tight. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Please,” she says, choking. Sobbing. “You have to help him.”
I kiss her, wipe her tears, and shuffle over to the old man. I glance back at her as I check his pulse, grimacing at the pain in my own wound.
There’s nothing.
“Please,” she moans, crying so hard she looks like she might break.
I gather her into my arms. I pull her against my chest. “I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “He’s gone. I’m so sorry.”
She has no more words. There’s only a pure, raw, animal mourning, rushing from her throat as she cries and cries against my chest.
I don’t know how long we stay like that, but her pain becomes my pain. I feel it like a stab, worse than the wound in my shoulder. Soon, she pulls back, wiping herself. “Oh my god,” she whispers, touching where the bullet hit me. “You’re shot.”
“I’m fine.” I flinch when she prods it. Fucking thing hurts. I hate getting shot.
“You’re not fine. You’re really not fine! We need a doctor.” She shuffles back, getting to her feet. “Lanzo—”
More gunfire erupts nearby. This time, there’s shouting, then a sudden quiet descends. I force myself up, ignoring the pulsing agony, pretending like my head isn’t swimming. I stumble toward the back hallway, but Renata intercepts me.
“Just stop,” she says, holding me back. “You can’t do everything yourself.”
“They’re out there. He’s out there.” I growl through my teeth. “I can’t—”
But I don’t get to finish. Carmine comes bursting back into the house, breathing hard, drenched in sweat. His eyes are wide.
“Lanzo,” he says, looking from me to Renata. “You’d better come see this.”
Chapter43
Renata
Grandpop’s gone. I know he’s gone. Lanzo didn’t say the words, but I saw the blood, I saw him slumped to the side. I saw his chest lying still.
Grandpop’s gone.
He died saving my life.
My head’s swimming with sorrow, mourning like a pair of concrete shoes making me crash through the ground. Grandpop was everything to me; my whole life has revolved around him. First as a daughter, then as a caretaker. But always as his little girl.
Now he’s gone.
