Page 131 of Knot Made to Break: Part One

The Valentinos were here in force, just as we’d expected—thank fuck—except that Gio and Marco were never supposed to be outside when they showed.

Goddamn it!

The Valentinos’ return fire strafed the ground, sparking off concrete and splintering the wood of the shipping containers. I dove behind a stack of crates, my shoulder slamming hard against the rough surface, then peeked out to survey the madness.

The weight of my gun was familiar, a deadly extension of my arm that was primed and ready. I unleashed shot after shot as I provided cover for Marco and Gio to move, to make it back to the safety of the warehouse and out of the goddamn line of fire.

“Cover ‘em!” I shouted to my men, and together we peppered the darkness with a storm of rounds while my brothers scrambled inside.

The loud pops continued, but I spared a glance toward the side entrance where Marco and Gio had slipped through. They dove behind a stack of wooden crates, back in relative safety. Relief washed over me, but it was quickly replaced by icy dread as I spotted Gio’s pained wince.

His shoulder had a new hole in it, blood seeping through the fabric of his shirt.

“Motherfucker,” I growled, viciously pulling the trigger, seeking revenge, desperate for an outlet to vent all this…rage.

“Gio’s been hit.” Marco’s voice crackled through my earpiece.

“How bad is it?” I rumbled back, needing to know the answer, and yet dreading it all the same.

“He’s bleeding pretty good. I’m putting pressure on it but I don’t think it went through the other side. We’re gonna need Doc.”

“It’ll hold,” Gio spat. “Where’s Rocco?”

“Haven’t seen him.”

“He’s here. Spotted the fucker right before we got back inside.”

A bullet whizzed past me, too close for goddamn comfort. My adrenaline spiked, and I tightened my grip on my weapon. I shifted to a position near the rear loading bay doors that offered me a better vantage point.

Back pressed to the wall, gun poised, I peered around the edge. And that’s when I saw him.

“I’ve got eyes on him,” I confirmed, focus narrowing, finger twitching on the trigger, ready to end this shit.

Rocco stalked through the night like a predator, the pools of light that lit the empty stretch of pavement illuminating his face. Those twisted features were unmistakable, and the smug set of his mouth made my blood boil.

The man was a cockroach. It didn’t matter how many times we’d tried to stamp him out; he always came crawling back.

But tonight, his luck would finally run out.

I readied myself to aim at the asshole, my finger hovering on the trigger. I stole another glance, noting that the bastard was moving with a slow, deliberate confidence, as if he believed himself invincible. The men that had gone before him, his first line of defense, weren’t faring as well; they dropped like flies under our onslaught, my men firing from every available door and window, unleashing hell on earth.

But being the shitty leader he was, Rocco seemed unconcerned about the ones who sacrificed their lives for his fucked up revenge. He advanced on the warehouse with a single-minded purpose that matched my own.

He wanted to take us out as badly as we craved to see him dead.

I didn’t have to answer, because at that moment, Rocco paused just out of firing range, scanning the chaos with an almost casual indifference. He raised a hand, signaling his men to hold their fire. The sudden silence was deafening as we did the same.

I ducked back behind the safety of the brick wall, biding my time, ready to make my move. But I’d only get one, which meant it had to be fucking flawless.

“Cristenellos!” he bellowed, voice strong and full of bravado. There hadn’t been a gun in his hand. However, I’d noted the men flanking either side of him had their weapons drawn.

My aim had to be perfect, my barreled pointed squarely at his head or his heart.

I gave my men the signal, watching the teams I’d set up for just this scenario bleed from the side exits. They blended into the shadows, moving to surround our enemies.

Dark satisfaction settled over me. “Nowhere left to run, Rocco,” I hollered. “Thought you’d like to know this is the end of the line.”

“You think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?” he taunted. “You Cristenellos believe you own everything. But you can’t protect everyone.”

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