Page 133 of Disarming Caine

Chapter 48

Samantha

MyhandleftAntonio’sback and dug into the breast pocket I’d opened when I’d coughed behind him.

Jimmy’s wide arms swung to point the gun at us.

Antonio’s flashlight beam hit Jimmy in the face, and he faltered. Then the flashlight was spinning through the air, with Antonio right behind.

I whipped my gun out.

The room lit from a gunshot.

Antonio yelled.

Then another shot.

Jimmy yelled.

Only one was mine, but it happened so fast, I didn’t know which man I’d hit.

The sirens blared outside. Janelle was here. Thank god.

Antonio landed on Jimmy, the two of them crashing against the wall where the Chagall had once hung. Antonio’s flashlight dropped, and the collision knocked Jimmy’s off the couch. Beams of light whipped through the room as the flashlights came to rest.

“Antonio!” I screamed.

They grunted as they rolled on the floor.

I threw my gun into my pocket and launched myself over the remains of the piano to grab a light.

Pounding on the front door. “Police! Open up!”

The unmistakable sound of fist meeting flesh sounded and Jimmy let out a cry of pain.

“Cazzo.” Another thud. “Madre.” Another.

My fingers wrapped around a flashlight, and I shone it on them. Antonio was on top of Jimmy, whose feet kicked and his hands dug at Antonio’s arm. But Jimmy’s face was already a bloody mess.

Antonio’s fist flew and Jimmy’s arms fell to his face.

The pounding came on the door again. “We’re coming in!”

“Please,” Jimmy groaned, blood trickling from his mouth, nose, and the corner of an eye.

Antonio’s arm cocked back again, but I grabbed it.

“Stop.”

He gave a weak yank, then flagged forward, catching himself with the other hand on Jimmy’s chest.

“Where’s his gun?” I let go of Antonio’s arm, intending to search for the service revolver, coming away with blood. So much blood. “Antonio?”

His head rolled up, turning, turning, until he inclined it toward the back door. “It’s over there.”

I had to stop the bleed—had to neutralize the threat. The floor was still covered in a thick layer of dried sludge from the fire. Frantically, I ran the flashlight back and forth until I found them. Two guns. Jimmy’s and the one I’d dropped when we arrived. Jimmy wouldn’t be able to move that far with Antonio on top of him.

The front door blew open, more light sweeping the room. A man and a woman yelled, “Police! Hands up!”

---