Page 12 of Relentless Refuge

The limo rolls up to a stop, this time carrying the conglomeration of my Family and Isabella’s. We’ve ridden together to prove a point, both to our supplier and to our Families, that this union is sealed and our partnership means a new future for everyone. We’re ready—armed with guns to protect ourselves, but also with a confidence that our marriage means a better future for everyone involved.

We climb out, my men first, then me. I turn to offer Isabella my hand, and like a queen, she steps out of the limo onto the tarmac, followed by her men. We’ve chosen to meet at the small regional airport an hour outside the city for this exchange since we’re dealing in military-grade machine guns. There is less of a chance of this going sideways with the authorities the farther out of New York we get. So, this little bump in the road, nothing more than a flea on a camel’s back, is the best place.

The supplier is here too, already unloading the weapons crates from the back of his van. Three crates in all this time, and with Isabella on my arm instead of arriving separately, I hope it willencourage him to be more forthcoming with his best attitude and his best prices.

“Ah, Mr. Romano,” he says, walking over to shake my hand. This is a much more friendly greeting than the one I got last time. I reach out to take his hand, and Isabella stands at my right side patiently.

“Mr. Hitchens.” His grip is firm, the way a man’s handshake should be. “Is it all here for us?” I ask, reaching into my breast pocket to produce a small manilla envelope with instructions as to where he can collect his money. It’s in a locker at the bus station with a padlock.

“Of course. Ten guns per crate, with four magazines per gun. That’s thirty guns and one hundred and twenty magazines, as ordered.” He reaches for the envelope I hand him, and I nod.

“Perfect. Let’s get them transferred over to our vehicle, and we’ll be on our way.” I step aside as he walks toward his van and opens the door. Two men climb out and pick up one of the large, flat crates and slide it from the van.

I watch as Isabella takes the lead, directing the men to place the crates in the back of the SUV limo, and one by one, they’re carried over. It’s a tight squeeze to fit all three, but the guys manage it, and Nicolo shuts the hatch and shakes their hands as I turn to the supplier.

“It’s good doing business with you. My wife will be in touch with you about the next shipment. Sometime next week, I believe.” I reach my hand out to shake his again, but as I do, I hear tires squealing and the rapid report of automatic gunfire.

We both whirl around, and I draw my gun instinctively. I turn to look behind me just in time to see the Bratva's men running toward us, guns drawn.

"Nicolo! Get in the car!" I bark as I start firing, bullets zipping past my ears. Darnel comes running around the corner of the SUV with Victor not far behind him.

"They found us!" he yells, putting his body between the enemy and Isabella, who now has her gun in hand too.

I nod once and keep firing, watching as Nicolo scrambles into the car and beckons for Isabella, but she seems eager for the fight. She ducks behind the SUV and shoots across the hood at the oncoming attackers. I open the door and take cover behind it as I watch the gun supplier and his men turn to face the onslaught too. They take cover behind their van, and all that can be heard is the boom of weapons being discharged and the ping of the rounds hitting metal.

"How did they know we'd be here?" Darnel snaps, rising to fire off a few rounds, then ducking back behind the SUV.

"I don't know!" Isabella shouts, pulling her trigger. The gun clicks, and the slide is locked back. I put my focus back on the Bratva who are now hiding in a few places, behind a cargo container, a dumpster, and the sedan they drove in, though I hear her replacing her clip and chambering a round. I don't have time to worry about her or argue with her, but my instinct is to order her into the vehicle where she's safe.

"Get in the limo!" I tell her, but she is obstinate.

"No, I want to get these bastards!" she screams defiantly.

"The hell you will!" Nicolo barks, and I see out of the corner of my eye the door open and him grabbing her. She swears at him, but knowing her uncle will protect her, I go on the offensive. I stand and fire off several more rounds, and I know my men have my back. Victor and Darnel flank me, releasing a hail of bullets as we swarm forward toward the enemy.

I spot one of the Bratva members and take him down with a clean shot to the chest. His body slumps, and I see movement from the corner of my eye as someone tries to shoot at me from the right. Victor sees it too, and he dives to push me out of the way just as another bullet whizzes past my head. Darnel ducks out of the way, his gun blazing as he takes cover behind me.

It's a coordinated effort, and we advance on them quickly, pushing them back toward their vehicle. The supplier is in on the action too, using a gun he had hidden in his van. In no time, we push them back until they're fleeing, once again squealing their tires on the tarmac.

We stand there heaving, watching their sedan flee and catching our breath. And it’s then that I hear Isabella shouting at the top of her lungs.

“Get off me! Goddamn you.”

I turn to see her wrestling with her uncle, forcing him to let go of her. She pushes her way past him, climbing out of the limo and straightening her shirt. Victor chuckles at her as he holsters his weapon and Darnel mumbles, “This is why women don’t belong out here.”

I’m quick to shoot him a glare, and I’m glad Isabella hasn’t heard his remark. She stomps around the front of the limo and joins me just as the supplier also walks up to me.

“This is insane, man. I’m out. I’m not doing this. Those guys are serious. Did you see their fire power? If we hadn’t outnumbered them four to one, we’d be dead.” He’s sweating, pale as a ghost. I can tell he hasn’t had to deal with this sort of thing often.

Then I glance at the dead man, right where Isabella is staring, also pale, but less shaken. She blinks hard, and I can tell she’s trying to maintain her composure, but Darnel has a point. Women are too sensitive to see this sort of thing often and stay emotionally in control.

I have to ignore that for now, though, because our supplier is trying to back out on us yet again. I turn to him and allow the adrenaline coursing through my veins to show in my expression.

“You are not backing out. Don’t forget that we outnumber you ten to one. If you think facing my enemy is bad, you’ll piss yourself if you have to face my Family.” I narrow my eyes and feel Isabella reach out and lace her fingers through mine. It’s as if she’s saying the man will face both of our Families, though mine alone is enough to intimidate him.

“Fuck’s sake, man. They found us here, in the middle of nowhere at a rinky-dink airstrip.” He’s panting like a sick dog, afraid and chasing his tail.

“If they can find us here, imagine where I’d find you. When you make a deal with the devil, you don’t get to back out.” I squeeze Isabella’s hand and continue. “We’ll be in touch for our meet next week.”

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