“The last thing you’ll see,” I say as I raise my guns and fire.
One bullet hits true, but the other clips the man. I dodge his return fire by using the wall of the elevator, pissed that I missed.
“You motherfucker!”
I tear off my helmet and use it as bait to draw his fire by tossing it out of the elevator. When the idiot fires at it, like I expect he would, I lean out and this time I don’t miss. He falls to the floor with a new hole in his head and I step out, keeping my gun raised.
Glad I do. Because as I come around the corner of the foyer into the main living space, I find Gabriella on her knees in front of Enzo, her hands holding a bloody piece of clothing to his chest. A man stands behind her with his gun pointed at her head.
When she lifts her face to me, a fierce determination ignites behind the tears in her hazel eyes. Even in the face of death, she refuses to back down or accept defeat. My fierce little angel.
“Drop your weapon or I will kill her,” the man threatens.
I believe him. The O’Leary men are good, but from the slight uneasy look in his eyes, he knows that I’m better.
“You okay, angel?” I ask Gabriella, choosing to ignore the man’s order.
Gabriella closes her eyes, and fresh tears pour freely down her cheeks before she meets my eyes with a small smile. “Been better.”
My lips twitch at her humor. “Do you trust me?”
She doesn’t hesitate. “Always.”
Without breaking our eye contact, I fire. The man drops dead to the ground behind her. Gabriella collapses forward and I'm there kneeling beside her, immediately putting my hands on her to check for any signs of injury.
Gabriella brushes my hands away, repeating, “I’m fine. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
Her head snaps up, an angry fire back in her eyes as she spits, “I said I’m fine, Dimitri.”
Well, okay then.
“We need to get Enzo to the hospital,” she continues. “The bleeding has slowed, but I’m worried the bullet hit his liver. He lost consciousness not long after Patrick took Rose and Liam, but the stupid Irish wouldn’t let me treat him. They just fucking laughed as my oldest friend lie here dying.”
“Then we need to move him.”
“No, we need to call an ambulance.”
“Ang—” She shoots me another fierce look and I correct myself. “Gabriella, there are at least a dozen dead men downstairs in the lobby and outside. An ambulance will only bring the authorities and unnecessary questions.”
“Well, he can’t stay here. So what do you suggest, then?”
It’s not easy, but somehow, we make it to the parking garage with the bleeding Viking sprawled over my back. Jesus. I’mgoing to need an alignment or three and a daily massage for a month to fix the damage this giant is doing to my body.
The lights of her Mercedes beeps showing that it has been unlocked. Gabriella gestures to it and hurries in front of me to open the back door. “Here. Set him down and I’ll sit in the back with him.”
She climbs in the back, scooting all the way to the other side to make as much room possible for the large man. I try to be mindful of his injury, but it’s difficult. Even unconscious, he cries out at the sudden rush of pain.
“Careful, Dimitri!”
I glare at her over his limp body. “I’m trying, but if you can’t tell, he’s fucking heavy. At least he’s alive and reacting to the pain.”
That deflates her anger, and I watch as her shoulders fall. “You’re right. There’s a jacket in my school bag up front. Can you hand it to me?”
I close the door and hurry around to the driver’s seat. Digging through her bag, I find the jacket in question and move to hand it to her. But it looks familiar.
“Is that—”