Page 105 of Last Shot

The crowd pushed as one black entity, a wave cresting towards an exit.

His breath was taking over his body, heaving still after dragging the limp frame of his passed-out security guard into the room where he’d stationed Lang, the paramedic. Just as a precaution.

He couldn’t think about that now. Couldn’t think about the little dart in her shoulder and the fact that, despite Lang’s assurances, it didn’t seem like she was breathing at all.

‘The doors are locked!’

‘Everyone stop pushing!’

Grey grabbed one of Nella’s friends by the arm. ‘What’s going on?’

The girl screamed but stopped when she saw Grey. ‘Someone shot Nella’s dad.’

Grey let her go so quickly she staggered back into one of Frankie’s friends who’d drawn his hood up over his ears. The boy swore at him, but Grey couldn’t hear.

No. No. No. No. No.

His boots slipped as he staggered up the white stairs, fighting against all of his senses. The metallic smell was not blood. The wetness beneath his shoes was just spilled wine. The figure slumped under Vittoria’s shaking body had slipped and fallen. Giovanni was not dead. Giovanni had not been shot. Grey had been here, he’d been here the entire time, where he’d said he’d be. He was in control ... he was ...

‘Where were you?’ Vittoria screamed from somewhere in an alternative universe where Grey had not been there and there was blood on the front of her cream dress and Nella was sobbing into Luca’s shoulders. Where Giovanni was staring up at Grey with wide, unseeing eyes. ‘Where the fuck were you?’

‘I ...’

The two realities collided. The blood-soaked world rose before Grey like a red tsunami.

‘No.’ He said it aloud this time. ‘No. No. No.’ He shook Giovanni. The man was a rock, a consummate survivor; he was not going to leave this world because of a tiny bullet. Grey waited for Giovanni’s thick fingers to rise up and pick the piece of lead from his crumpled skull, flicking it at Grey like it was a bee sting.

‘It’s not Grey’s fault,’ Nella managed to heave through sobs.

‘He said he’d protect him!’ Vittoria screamed. ‘He said he’d protect us!’

Nella was wrong. Vittoria was right. Giovanni was dead. That was all Grey knew.

Vittoria was right.

‘I need you all together,’ he said. ‘Where’s Frankie? Where’s Tomaso?’

‘Who did it?’ Luca staggered up, his face wet, one hand steadying Nella. ‘Who shot him?’

‘Luca,’ Grey’s voice said somewhere between the two worlds. He knew he had to stay here but every part of him was pulling him back to the ravaged planet where Giovanni wasn’t dead and Grey had been standing next to him the whole time ... ‘Get them out of here.’

‘Who was it?’ Luca said again, his eyes wide and wild.

‘The La Marcas. Get them out.’

‘No.’ Luca shook his head. ‘It can’t have been. No.’

‘Where’s Tomaso? Where’s Frankie?’ Grey gripped Nella as she swayed backwards on the steps. ‘We need to move, now.’

‘It wasn’t the La Marcas.’ Luca shook his head. ‘It can’t—’

Click.

They plunged into darkness.

‘What the f—’

‘Move them. Now, Luca. Get them to the cellar. Don’t open the door for anyone but me. I’m going to get Frank and Tom.’

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