Page 95 of His Passerotta

My heart pounds in my ears as I stand, gun in hand, and try to take in the house. The gunfire has stopped temporarily until more men come into view, but even in the quiet, it’s hard to think.

Bailey’s in there.

Bailey’s in the house.

Hostage.

Hostage.

Hostage.

No.

“What’s wrong?” Settimo asks, taking my arm and pulling me to the side, using the SUV as a shield.

“She’s in there,” I say, my head spinning as I watch the house.

How many men would I have to kill to get to her?

Too many. It’d be impossible.

Can I strike up a deal?

No, too late.

“Who?”

I blink to see Settimo’s confused expression.

“Bailey,” Lorenzo says for me, stepping up behind us. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

I nod, almost absentmindedly. My legs feel like they’re made of Jell-O as I impulsively start toward the house.

“What are you doing?” Settimo takes my arm to jerk me back.

I point to the house. “I have to get her.”

“What?” His lips part as his jaw slackens. “You can’t go now. Wait for us to take the house.”

I shake my head. “She doesn’t have that long.”

She might already be dead.

My stomach bottoms out at that thought, and I step toward the house, but again, Settimo pulls me back. Gunfire is heavy now, and shots have started from inside, their machine guns hanging out the windows. It’s hard to hear my muddled thoughts over the noise, let alone Settimo’s voice.

“You are not going in there.”

“Let go of me,” I growl, jerking my hand free.

“Anthony stop!”

I’m several feet away, about to break through the line we have when Settimo grips my shirt and yanks me back.

“Just fucking wait!”

I turn back to him, my heart beating against my chest harder than it ever has. My fingers move past tapping, and instead, my whole hand shakes. I wait for Settimo to give me a better idea, any idea other than jump in front of gunfire to maybe make it inside.

I’ll have to go around back. There has to be a back entrance.

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