Page 44 of Spiteful Heart

“No, if anyone should be a distraction, it should be me,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I liked the idea to begin with.

“I’m bigger,” he reminded me, as if either of us needed that reminder. “I can pin one down easily. You, on the other hand…” He trailed off, knowing his point was already made. He was a lot taller than me. A lot bigger all around. He had been for years.

I took his pistol, even though I didn’t want to. He said not another word as he took off in a crouching run, moving away from me and around the corner of the building. The moon sat in the sky, but the building we were near blocked it out. I didn’t know how long it would take him to make it around the building, and I checked the clip to see how many bullets he had left.

Less than half the clip. Had to make it count.

The ones shooting at me didn’t have pistols. They had automatic rifles, something that could shoot a bullet or more a second, though they weren’t shooting now, probably because I’d been hiding behind this dumpster for so long. I was thankful it was full of trash, otherwise… otherwise, some of those bullets might’ve pierced through the metal and got me.

I needed to keep their attention on me. So, I waited a few more moments and then leaned out of my cover, aiming towards the pair of men crouched near the old car they’d driven up in. I shot off one bullet, and that got them going again. I quickly returned to cover, trying to listen above the shots for any hint of my brother making his move on them while they were busy shooting at me.

The seconds felt more like hours, time acting stupid. I didn’t know how much time passed before I heard one of the guys shout, “Shit—” But he and his pal had stopped shooting at me, so I didn’t hesitate.

I leaped out of cover, got to my feet, and aimed for them. It was a lot easier to aim when you weren’t busy trying to duck from a hail of bullets. My brother had crept around the building and grabbed hold of the nearest man, knocking his gun to the ground and holding his arms back in a wrestling-like move, which had caused the other man to whirl and aim at him. But his buddy was in the way, struggling all the while, so he couldn’t get a clear shot at my brother.

I used that to my advantage. I pulled the trigger, and my aim was true. A single bullet shot from my pistol, traveled through the air, and collided with the other man’s chest, taking him down.

As he fell to the ground, crying out, Mike moved fast; he let go of the man’s arms and gripped the top of his head and his jaw. With a sharp jerk of his arms, he snapped the guy’s neck, and he fell to the ground, deader than dead. He picked up the dropped assault rifle and was on the other man within another second. By the time I reached them, my brother had put a bullet into the second man’s head, killing him for good.

Mike frowned in the darkness, staring at the corpses all around us, all the bullet casings on the ground. Even in the shadows, it was pretty grisly. I’d take this over what happened at our apartment any day, though.

I checked my phone, finding a whole host of missed messages in the group chat. Sylvester was pinned down, as was Maddox. Looked like Mike and I were the first to get free of whoever these assholes were.

My first thought was getting to Lola and making sure she was safe, but I couldn’t let Sylvester or Maddox die, either. The Milanos owed them a debt that extended beyond Mike and me.

Shit. What were we supposed to do?

I looked at my brother. “Looks like someone grabbed Lola, but Maddox and Sylvester are pinned down.”

Mike thought on it, leaning the assault rifle over his shoulder. “If they went through all this trouble just to get her, they’re not going to kill her right away. They’ll take their time. We’ll help the Lucianos, and then we’ll get your girl.” Though the situation was dire, he spoke with such a level head, I had to be in awe of him.

You’d think, after almost dying before, he’d be more unnerved at the current situation, but he wasn’t. I had to hand it to him.

So that’s what we did. We found Maddox first, crouching behind an old shipping container at the entrance of the warehouse district, three men on him. Since he was alone, it didn’t look like he could do much else besides take cover and peek over that cover every few seconds to get a read on his enemies—and any time he did that, he was met with a spray of bullets.

These guys… there were a lot of them. They were organized, but not to the extent that they were trained. I had no idea who they could be, but that’d be a question for later.

Mike and I arrived, saving the day. Er, the night? Whatever. We rushed in, both of us wielding assault weapons we’d picked off the corpses of the men who’d tried to take us, and we made short work of them since they weren’t expecting us.

Once he was clear, Maddox got out of his cover. I couldn’t see much since it was so dark, but I could see the low grimace on his face and the way he rolled his left arm. If I had to guess, I’d say he’d gotten hit.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, one of the fuckers grazed me, but I’ll be fine,” Maddox replied, his scowl turning to me. “A van pulled out not long ago—if I had to guess, they’re taking Lola somewhere.” He moved to stand beside a corpse, and he kicked the dead guy in the side. “That’s for shooting me, you motherfucker.”

Shit. Where could they be taking her? Odds were my brother was right, and whoever was behind all of this wanted her alive, but for how long? How long did we have to find her before he made his mark on her? Lola could take care of herself, but if she was tied up, she was just as helpless as anyone else.

Shots rang out in the distance, and we didn’t hesitate; we headed toward them. Sylvester still needed our help, and once he was safe, we could work on getting Lola back and ending this fucking thing once and for all.

Sylvester was the opposite way we were; we’d fanned out into a triangle of sorts, with Maddox at the tip, at the front of the abandoned warehouses. Whoever was behind this obviously knew to expect us even though he’d told Lola to come alone; he knew us, knew how we operated. That much had been clear before, but tonight really made it clear. And yet, with that said, I still didn’t know who this fucker was.

After rushing down the sidewalk like a mini-army, we came upon a parked car, where three men had Sylvester cornered. They heard us coming, but by the time they’d turned their weapons to us, we’d already sent a wave of fire their way. Bullets hit them and their vehicle, spraying the night with steel shrapnel and blood.

Maddox was the first to push past them, hopping over the hood of their car as he sprinted to Sylvester’s. Sylvester had backed up, from the look of it, the entire front end of his vehicle riddled with bullet holes.

Mike and I were seconds behind Maddox when we saw Sylvester straighten up in the car; he’d been hunched over, ducking behind the center console and using all the metal in the hood and the engine to shield himself.

His gun rested in one hand, while his other clutched his phone, the screen still on. He wiped at his forehead as he got out of the shredded car, giving us a nod. “I told you to go for Lola,” he growled out. He shoved a finger at Maddox’s chest, adding, “You’re lucky I had a backup plan.”

---