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“Okay, baby. Let's go home,” I say, cautiously hauling her up from her crouched position so her limbs don’t stiffen.
I nudge her behind me—sheltering her from probable harm by using my body to cloak her from any unforeseen danger.
“Julius, we’d like to add an extra layer of protection in getting you home,” Mazimo states. “In my experience, it’s better to separate the heads of the family in case another attack like the one we just faced occurs. If you’re both together, it makes it easier for them to target you and capture you. Someone still needs to lead in the aftermath of such a travesty.”
“What are you suggesting?” I question.
“That you and the ladies ride with us, and Luca is in your car. It’s the safest way to get you home,” Geronimo facilitates, doing his duty as the secondhand man of the Fitzgerald enterprise.
“It’s a good idea,” Luca insists.
“I’m going with you,” Mera adamantly states, grabbing onto Luca as if he’ll evaporate.
“Curly Sue.” He sighs. “It’s safer for you to go with Shayne and Julius.”
“Not happening, bad boy. I’m with you. Get over it. We talked about this,” Mera reminds him, gritting the words out between her teeth.
“So we did,” he murmurs. “Mera’s with me.”
The girls hug and we crawl into Mazimo’s car. Luca and Mera get into ours. Geronimo gets into the Fitzgerald’s secondary vehicle, and my men get into theirs. The boys straddle their bikes and take up the front and rear of our brigade. Soon afterward, we head out at a fast pace as we speed down the back road.
I feel like the president being escorted to the White House by the secret service.
Shayne
We don’t even makeit five miles from the bunker before more havoc greets us.
“Persistent motherfuckers,”Nonnogrits out as he yanks a gun from the waistband of his trousers. “You have a weapon, Julius?”
“Always,” my man states, opening up his suit jacket, and pulling his own out from his shoulder holster. “Never leave home without it.”
I knew he had a gun on him. I felt it pressed into me on several occasions, but knowing, and seeing, are two different things.
“Down on the floorboards, baby,” Julius soothingly orders me, helping lower me onto the car’s carpeting. “No matter what, keep your head down, okay?”
“Yes,” I reply, using the only intelligible word I’m capable of speaking.
“Love you, temptress.”
“Love you too, Julius.”
The sounds of gunfire and squealing of tires meets my ears.
The sound is so loud, deafening, and disturbing that I lift my hands to muffle my ears. I begin spouting every Hail Mary I know and making the sign of the cross across my chest.
The car swerves around the bikes. Our windows are rolled down asNonnoand Julius aim out them and at our adversaries.
I hear a few collisions, shouts, screeching tires, and other mismatched sounds that have me rocking on my knees and babbling like a baby.
This is insanity!
If I were braver, I’d offer myself up as tribute to save every man, as well as Mera, that are doing their best to protect me.
The wrath of my brothers is not something I want to face head-on. Their cruelty knows no bounds.
They’ll make me pay with their heavy hands before flinging me to the man they chose for me. Pure evilness flows through their veins courtesy of our father.
I fear them more than I do death itself.
