He has a clean shot.
Gianna, I love you. I’m sorry I never told you.
––––––––
IF I HAD five more minutes in my life, I’d spend them with her. Telling her I loved her. I just want one more minute. To say goodbye.
But the aim is clear. Dante will not miss. I can see this man is a deadly killer.
Then he lowers his fucking gun, turns, and runs.
What. Just. Happened?
“Get down, get down, get down!” someone yells as I pull my weapon out and crawl toward a couple of empty crates to take cover.
More tactical men fill the warehouse as the women below begin screaming loudly.
Amy.
I duck my head as a bullet flies over it, missing me by inches.
“Motherfucker,” I cry. Fuck, this is chaos.
Where the hell is Gianna?
Connor skids to a stop near me and crouches, tossing me a bulletproof vest. “Put it on.”
“Thanks,” I say, tugging it over my head as he covers me, letting off some shots. “They’re downstairs. The women.”
“FBI aren’t here yet.”
Why the fuck not?
“What?” I yell over the gunfire and lift, taking out a Baldassare soldier about to target Nathan.
Mack waves out his arm and we drop. Smokes fills the warehouse as I cover my mouth with my shirt.
Connor holds up his hand to me. Five.
Five minutes? The FBI is five whole minutes away? That’s a fucking eternity in a situation like this.
What the hell happened? They were supposed to be here.
The gunfire stops—nobody is shooting into the smoke—so Connor and I climb out from behind the crates. I grab a rifle that’s dropped on the ground and run downstairs.
“Wait,” Decker says from behind me. I turn, staring at him in question. “Don’t open the cell doors.”
He’s staring at the women trying to hide his disgust, but it would take a cold man to achieve that.
“Braxton!” I hear Amy’s call and turn.
“We have to let them out,” I yell back at Decker.
“Trust me. Wait for the feds.” He lays a heavy hand on my shoulder. “They’re in shock and will run. Not my first fucking rodeo, pal.”
Plus, there is gunfire above us.
Shit, he’s right.