“Let my wife go, and you can have him.” Erik remained stubborn. Always trying to have things his way.
Bertucci paused, looking over his right shoulder at the two men standing at his side, ready to protect his life if needed, then his left shoulder at Nico. “He’s going to let you go, but you stay over here. If you take one step toward your husband, I’ll kill him…and your father.”
Melinda nodded, trying to read Erik’s expression. He was back to a blank slate, keeping her from getting a sense of his thoughts. What exactly was the plan here?
“Let her go, Nico,” Bertucci ordered, and Nico’s fingers fell away from her arm. She took a step to the side but not forward. The instinct to run to Erik had to be quenched. She wouldn’t risk her father’s life or Erik’s, but she needed space from Nico.
Nico made his way behind Manaforte.
“Manaforte comes forward.” Bertucci produced a gun from his coat and aimed it at Melinda’s father. The pain in her stomach intensified, gripping her hard and sucking the breath from her.
She watched her father take three steps forward. Each time his shoe touched the ground, her heart rammed against her ribs.
“My nephew is dead because of you.” Bertucci’s fingers tightened around the butt of the gun.
“You killed my wife.” Melinda’s father’s rage shook his voice as he took another step.
“You should have both died in that accident,” Bertucci said, cocking the gun. The sound, the little click of the hammer echoed in Melinda’s head.
“You can have me, but let Melinda go to her husband.” Her father jerked his head in Erik’s direction.
Erik’s gaze locked on Bertucci. She recognized the tic in his jaw, the little movement of his muscles as he concentrated on his prey. How had she not been more fearful of this man? He looked ready to rip Bertucci’s head from his shoulders.
“Melinda.” Bertucci shook his head. “I keep hearing about fucking Melinda.”
“I’m losing my patience,” Erik said in a low tenor.
Bertucci pointed at her father. “Killing you would give you an easy escape.” Bertucci turned slightly toward her. “Killing her would no doubt leave a better mark.” He raised the gun, pointing the barrel at her. Her breath caught, and fear gripped her body, freezing her to the concrete.
“No!” someone yelled.
A gunshot fired then a second. The third sound came just before she was tackled, her head hitting the ground.
“Melinda!” Erik’s voice, raspy and angry. “Melinda!”
“Don’t.” Another voice. One she didn’t recognize.
She opened her eyes, rolling to her back. Nico scrambled off of her, getting to his feet. A man she’d seen briefly at Bertucci’s house when she’d arrived stood with his gun drawn. He hadn’t been with them when they left, why was he here?
“Dad!” She pushed up to her knees. Her father lay motionless only feet away from her. Blood pooled beneath him, covered his chest.
“Don’t fucking move,” the new voice demanded. She turned. Another of Bertucci’s men stepped forward, his gun turned on Nico. Bertucci laid on the ground, his arm outstretched and his gun still in his hand. A clean shot to his head had stopped him from hurting her.
“Justin, he was going to kill her,” Nico said, waving a hand at Melinda. His other one held a gun.
“What did you think was going to happen? She was just going to go home with hubby?” The sneer in Justin’s voice sent a chill through her. “Do you really think you were just going to waltz in and take a seat at the table?”
“Justin.” Erik’s gun was trained on him. Erik didn’t close the distance between himself and where Melinda knelt, taking in the horror before her.
She watched her father’s blood seep through his shirt, down his chest. He needed help. She needed to get to him.
Ash stepped forward, carrying no weapon. “Justin. This is over. Bertucci was going to kill the girl, and you know that couldn’t happen. Isn’t that why you showed up?”
Justin swung his gaze over to Melinda. Her breath hurt as it passed through her throat. Had she screamed? She didn’t remember it, but her throat burned like she had.
“Bertucci’s revenge for Mario would have brought more shit down on the family,” Justin said plainly. “Going after Manaforte was fine, but once she had connections to the Rawlings, he should have backed off.” Justin’s voice remained calm, collected as he spoke. He wasn’t being ruled by emotions like Bertucci. It wasn’t revenge he sought, it was control.
“That’s true. I can’t let Jansen be the only powerhouse in town. He’ll run everyone out. Too much territory for one family,” Ash continued, stepping closer to Justin.