Page 27 of The Devil's Pawn

“We’re going through the back,” Dom tells me, Enzo, and the other men in the van with us. “Keep your masks and gloves on at all times. Kill any man inside.”

I slip on my black face mask and slide into my black gloves. The semi-automatic pistol in my hand will come in handy tonight as we shoot the enemy at Tips & Tricks.

One more Bianchi business will light up the night like colorful fireworks. Destroying everything they own has been part of our plan from the get-go. Little by little, we will take everything: their sources of income, their power, their daughters, and—finally—their lives.

My brothers and the men hop out one by one, with more guys exiting from the van behind us. Taking cautious steps, we walk the quarter block to the back entrance of the club. It’s quiet here, with the crickets singing our anthem as we reach our destination.

It helps that one of our tech guys killed all the cameras in a three-mile radius. Every motherfucking cam has been sleeping for hours, keeping us hidden.

Once we reach the club, Dom stealthily peers inside, then lifts up two fingers, indicating he sees two targets. Grabbing the keys he took from Chiara when he kidnapped her, he unlocks the door, nodding once before he pushes it open.

Then all hell breaks loose.

Bullets fly from all directions. Two men come at me, their pistols pointing as they shoot. I duck down, kicking one man in the ankles before I fire back, then raise up the gun to take out the second guy before he has a chance to kill me.

Two others come running from the back of the bar, firing at me. Something pierces me near my shoulder, burning, but I ignore it. The adrenaline is what’s keeping me conscious.

Pop.

I duck as a bullet comes flying past my face.

Pop.

This time I’m the one firing, shooting one guy in his thigh before getting another round into some other motherfucker. The man with the leg wound groans in agony before I let the bullet rip into his chest.

Silence thickens the room, and as I focus, I realize our enemies are all dead.

“Fuck!” I grumble, clinging to my left arm and hissing in pain that’s now sharper than before.

“What happened?” Dom runs over.

“I’m hit.”

He yanks up the sleeve of my hoodie, and I find blood oozing out from the top of my arm, right under the shoulder.

“Fuck. We have to get you to Raquel. She’s the closest.” Dom sounds alarmed as he removes his hoodie and tightens it around the wound, applying pressure.

We normally use Ricky for this kind of shit. He’s a vet Tomás knew, but he’s a lot further away from here, and since Raquel is closer, it does make more sense to get her to fix me up. I don’t know how I’m going to explain a bullet wound, but I’d better make something up quick.

Just as we’re about to leave, Dom and Enzo keeping me upright, we hear the sound of a woman’s whimper.

What the hell? No one’s supposed to be here. Did we kill someone innocent? I’ll never forgive myself if we messed up this badly.

“Did you hear that?” Enzo hisses.

Dom nods, gesturing toward the bar with a tilt of his head.

Go, he mouths.

Enzo lets another man take his position beside me so he can investigate.

The pain in my shoulder is stronger now. I shut my eyes, taking long inhales, while listening to Enzo talk to the woman and ask her to get out from behind the bar. But she refuses, and it sounds like she has a weapon pointing at him.

Did he say Joelle?

But I’m no longer listening. I just want to get the fuck out of here.

“Come on, man!” Dom shouts. “Dante needs help!”

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