Page 27 of Revenge & Ruin

We stiffen instantly, pressing ourselves back against the wall as we strain to hear who is approaching.

Alessandro gestures with his hands again.

Two guards. Walking up the stairs. ETA thirty seconds.

I glance over at Dante, who is already cracking his neck.

Okay, then.

The sound of the two men murmuring to each other finally reaches us as I crouch low behind the banister. Peering over it, I can make out the top of their heads as they stride up, none the wiser.

Both are brandishing excessively large firearms.

I grimace to myself. If either of those guns goes off, our cover is completely blown.

I turn to gesture to the others to incapacitate them quickly, only to find Alessandro missing.

Mouthing to a confused-looking Dante, I say, “Where the hell is?—”

“UGH!”

We both dart to the banister to see Alessandro has already kicked one of the men down the stairs.

I don’t have time to watch as the guard tumbles head-first into the wall; my feet are already moving toward the fight.

The second guard, no longer surprised, is already pulling out a handgun from his belt.

I manage to reach them just as he begins to aim it at Alessandro’s head. The heel of my boot collides with his wrist with a sickening crunch.

The guard grunts in pain, but it’s not enough to knock him entirely off balance.

Luckily, Alessandro is immediately there to retaliate, throwing himself at the guard with a flurry of precise blows. I have to back down the stairs to avoid being punched in the face.

It’s a mistake I only realize is a mistake after something grabs at my ankle and yanks hard. I tumble forward, only managing to catch myself on the banister at the last second.

The split second it takes me to right myself is all the time the other guard needs to get the upper hand. He grabs hold of me and lurches forward, pushing me over the edge of the banister.

We’re only on the second floor, but the flight down two stories would likely fracture a few bones. Needless to say, I cling to the banister for dear life.

My attacker won’t have any of it. His relentless pushing is now accompanied by blows to the chest that threaten to wind me if I don’t do something soon.

Thinking fast, I grab hold of him with one hand, readjusting my grip with the other.

Then, suddenly, I remove all the resistance. I let myself be pushed over the side, dragging my attacker along with me.

It seems to happen in slow motion. His eyes are wide and wild as he realizes I’m taking him down with me.

For a moment, we’re in freefall. Then my other arm goes taunt as I cling to the metal bar above me.

I go to release him, to let him fall to his miserable fate. But the bastard clocks what I’m doing and clings to the arm that’s holding him.

“Let go,” I growl, my arm straining with the effort to keep us both up.

But he ignores me, holding on to me as if his life depends on it.

With a heaving groan, I kick him in the face. The first one lands just shy of his ear. But the second hit him square in the mouth.

It’s enough for his grip to loosen.

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