Page 52 of His to Claim

And I do the only thing I can do.

I jump in front of my girl.

21

CARLOTTA

The moment Gallo lifts his gun and points it at me, I freeze. It’s like my feet are glued to the ground and I’m completely immobile. A shot cracks through the air, but before it can hit me, I get slammed into the ground, the wind knocked right out of my lungs.

For a dazed moment, I have no idea what happened. I don’t think I was shot because there’s no piercing burn, just the pain of landing really hard on the barn’s floor. And then I hear Gallo’s angry roar, but I don’t care. I’m just happy to be alive and not bleeding out.

It takes me a moment to realize Damon knocked me down to the ground, saving me from the bullet. His big body covers me, protecting me, and my heart swells. My protector, always making sure I’m safe and secure. God, I love this man. But then he’s yanked off me by the two thugs and a horrible thought hits me.

Did he get shot?

Turning around and sitting up, I quickly scan his body, but he looks okay. Thank God, Gallo is a terrible shot.

He’s fuming, however, and a moment later, Gallo storms toward me and I roll sideways as he shoots the gun again. Lucky for me, the bastard misses again. Scrambling to my feet, I see Damon break free from the thugs’ hold and launch a kick which sends one of them flying. As he throws a punch, getting into a scuffle with the other one, I realize it’s up to me to take care of Gallo.

I see a shovel leaning against the wall beside an empty horse stall, and I make a mad dash for it, weaving as I race over. But Gallo isn’t shooting anymore which surprises me. I reach my makeshift weapon, grab the handle and spin around just in time to see a red-faced Gallo cursing at his gun then tossing it aside. It must’ve jammed or maybe it’s out of bullets. Whatever the case, I send up a silent thank you to whoever is watching over me.

Now without his pistol, he doesn’t look very threatening and I take immediate advantage of the situation. Stalking forward, I lift the shovel and swing it at his body like a baseball bat. He tries to avoid it, jumping to the side, but I manage to whack him hard against his hip. With a howl, he levels his black, rage-filled eyes on me.

“You’re going to die,” he threatens me, a hand pressed on the spot where I hit him.

“Not today, asshole!” I swing the shovel again, but this time he manages to grab it.Oh, shit.I try to pull it away from him, but he yanks hard, ripping it out of my grip. Now, he’s turning the shovel on me and I’m not about to hang around and see how this ends.

While Damon is busy fighting with the other thug, I spin around and race away from Gallo. Since the exit is behind me, my only option is to run deeper into the barn. He’s calling my name, chasing after me, but I don’t slow down or even dare to look over my shoulder. Instead, I run for my life…straight back to the damn hay loft.

Without a choice, I leap for the ladder and hurry up the rungs as fast as I can. Gallo is a heavy, bigger man, so he’s not going to be able to catch me, especially carrying that shovel. Maybe once I get to the top, I will be able to regain the advantage by being above him. If I can kick him or hit him or push him back down the ladder, I can hold him off until Damon arrives to help me.

The moment I reach the upper level, I scan the area quickly, desperate to find something to use against the madman snapping at my heels. My gaze lands on the rope that had been around my neck but, other than that, I don’t see anything to defend myself. And, honestly, I’m not even sure what I can do with it, other than maybe use it like a whip. And that’s really stretching it. But it’s better than nothing, I think, and swipe it up off the floor.

I spin back around just in time to see Gallo lumbering over the side of the platform. At least I can take comfort in the fact he doesn’t have a gun or this confrontation would be over really freaking fast.

Once he’s standing up, shovel in his hand, he takes a moment to catch his breath. My fingers tighten around the rope and I adjust my hold, getting ready to spring into action and hopefully be able to turn the tables. Because this time, he is not putting a noose around my neck.

If things go my way, this rope is going to be around his bloated neck.

“What do you think you’re going to do with that?” he taunts, stepping closer.

“Whatever I have to,” I tell him, bravely lifting my chin, and raising the rope out in front of me. I’m still debating how best to attack and defend myself with it when he laughs, throws the shovel aside, and levels the most hate-filled gaze on me.

“Did you know anything about my son?” he asks, moving closer.

“What? No,” I respond, surprised by his question. I never knew who the man was until he’d told me earlier.

“He thought you were pretty.” Gallo snorts, his eyes narrowing. “But you didn’t give him the time of day.”

My mouth drops open slightly, and I’m completely surprised by what he’s saying. I can’t remember ever meeting anyone named Maximo.

“He told me Carlotta Rossi is so beautiful, but she didn’t even notice me,” he continues, closing in.

I don’t know what to say without angering him further, so I keep my mouth shut and take a step back...and realize I’m way too close to the trap door.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember meeting him,” I say, deciding it’s probably best to keep him talking. “But I’m sure he was lovely.”

I try to muster up as much confidence in that statement as I can, but knowing Maximo was Gallo’s son, I’m not sure if I believe it. He was probably a prick just like Carmine. What’s the saying? Like father, like son. And the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, right?

---