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“Fuck,” Enzo grunts, tilting his head so he can get a glimpse of the view that has me locked in position.
Two shots ring out simultaneously from across the room, knocking two of the Russian men to the floor. I know without a shadow of a doubt that it’s Vito and Matteo and it fuels my anger even more knowing that they’re still here to fight alongside, to fightfor.
“Take them out.”
At the order from the other side of the door, two full rounds of gun shots fire off, and with each bullet that leaves the chamber, I see the rage engulfing Enzo’s face.
Those are his brothers, and our next move is his call, but I don’t expect him to shove me backward out of the way before charging through the door. I fall to the floor with a thud, hissing through clenched teeth at the pain shooting up my spine, but none of that matters. Not when I feel my soul leave my body as fear consumes me.
Scrambling to my feet, I grip my gun as I move toward the door, taking the same strides as Enzo did. I see him up ahead, coming out from behind the crates we were obscured by, to come face to face with the Russian giving the orders.
He’s so focused on him as his target, so enraged by the slaughtering that has happened here today, that he doesn’t spot the other guy coming around from the back of the burning pile of people.
I pull my trigger without hesitation, but not quickly enough that this fucker doesn’t release a bullet from his barrel too. Pain ricochets through me as Enzo drops to the floor, his gun falling carelessly from his grip as he staggers backward. His hands cup his stomach, before he glances down at the crimson blood staining his hands.
Hysteria consumes me, pain and agony rip through me, but it’s too much. I’m not someone who cares, who feels hurt or pain, fuck. I feel nothing. I fear nothing. I have always been nothing more than a pawn to be moved around, but now… this is different.
I’m moving before I realize it, my feet carrying me toward the carnage that awaits as gunshots ring through the air, only this time… they’re mine.
The man who injured Enzo is already down, two more follow swiftly after him as I continue to charge toward them. The flames are growing bigger, replicating hell before me as the man who seems to be the leader of these fuckers turns toward me with a sneer.
He lifts a shotgun in my direction, running his tongue over his dry, cracked lips as he readies to take his shot, but there is no fucking chance in hell that I’m going to die at the hands of this man today.
Never.
Before he can even pull the lever back, I pull my trigger again and again until there are no rounds left. I don’t need anymore though, not as I look down at the asshole who did all of this as he bleeds out all over the floor.
It’s a fucking blessing when he sways backward in slow motion, falling into the fire he created as the embers and smoke consume his cries of pain.
My chest heaves with every breath as I stand frozen in place watching him burn before me. More gunshots go off around me, pulling me to my senses, but not to protect myself. My focus turns to Enzo as I spin on the spot, finding him still on the floor with one hand pressed against his wound, while the other is gripping his gun, before it clatters to the floor.
Silence echoes around the room as I rush to his side, fear gripping me tightly as I panic over what to do.
“Fuck, Enzo, are you okay?” I internally groan at the fucking ridiculous question that falls from my mouth. He’s quite clearlynotokay, but he tries to smile up at me despite the circumstances.
“Of course I am with a pretty view like you, Wren,” he breathes, his voice raspier than usual, and not because he’s drenched with desire and need, but because he’s in so much pain.
Fuck.
Footsteps approach us as I pull my hoodie off and press it against his wound, making him hiss, but he doesn’t stop me from helping.
“Enzo, fuck,” Vito bites as he drops to his knees beside me, squeezing his brother’s shoulder as he grimaces.
“We can’t take him to a hospital, he’ll be an open target,” Matteo states, crouching down on my other side, and I can only assume that there’s no one else here alive because my sense of surroundings is diminished as I sit consumed by the state of Enzo.
Wetting my dry lips, I tuck my hair behind my ear as I look at Matteo. “Do you trust me?”
One breath, two breaths… “Yes.”
“Then call Luna and tell her we need Ethan or someone of that level to meet us at the airport. Now.”
His brows furrow in confusion as he glances down at his brother before coming back to me. “At the airport? We’re not fucking leaving.” The bite to his tone isn’t aimed at me, but it still riles me up all the same.
“Yes, we are. We need to get home, not only to keep Enzo safe and protected, but because Dmitri and the others aren’t here. I know it. Since they’re not making progress with Featherstone, with the Ring, they’re channeling all their efforts toward you in a show of strength.”
Vito scoffs bitterly as he shakes his head at the mere thought of the Russians thinking they can outdo him, his family, his business. “How do you know they’re not here?”
I glance to the remains of the burned Russian guy as I sigh heavily. “There was something he said earlier, that he was sad not to be attending the other funeral, so he was making one for himself.”
