Page 92 of Ruthless Redemption

“Move the gun away from her.” I can barely hear through the roar of blood in my ears. “If you hurt her, I swear to God it’ll be the last thing you do.”

“Get out of the fucking car,” he repeats, nudging the weapon into her head.

She whimpers. Flinches.

I grind my teeth. Clench my fist around the blade.

“Get your hand out of your pocket.” Salvo steps closer, thrusting his gun toward the side of my face. “Start moving.”

I can’t be separated from her. But I also can’t start a gunfight in the fucking Lincoln when all I have is a blade.

“Why don’t you help me, asshole?” I stare at her. I don’t take my eyes off hers as Salvo creeps closer.

“You want me to drag you out, brother? Because I will.” He grabs my suit sleeve with his free hand and tugs.

I lunge, twisting my body toward the gun, forgoing my blade for his barrel. I grip the metal. Shove it downward.

He recoils. Panics. Pulls the trigger.

Layla screams, her limbs flailing as Remy drags her from the vehicle.

I elbow Salvo in the face. Capture and twist his wrist hard. Then charge while he’s reeling from the impact, throwing myself out of the car to shove him off-balance.

He stumbles backward, the gun loosening in his grip.

We fall. The weapon does, too. All three of us clatter to the pebbled drive.

My body slams onto his. My forearm finds his throat. My hand finds my blade.

“You’re dead.” I stab the metal into his upper arm and his roar explodes in my ringing ears as I retrieve it. “But not before you suffer.”

I scramble to my feet, dragging him with me by the front of his suit, needing to get eyes on Layla.

“Fuck.” Salvo clasps his shoulder as I lever him backward into my chest, my blade at his throat. “You stabbed me.”

“You’re lucky I haven’t blown your fucking brains out.” The gun is right there. A few feet away. He’d be dead if he hadn’t dropped it.

I would’ve killed my own brother.

Without thought.

Without hesitation.

That’s why I don’t fucking carry.

“Let her go.” I drag Salvo to the hood until Layla is in full sight on the other side of the Lincoln.

Remy copies my stance, his arm around her neck, but his gun is trained on me.

Big mistake.I’d risk a bullet for her. I’d chance death.

“Let her go.” I drag Salvo farther, making him stumble to the other side of the car, getting as close as I can to Layla whose chest heaves with rapid breaths as her fingers cling to my brother’s arm for stability.

“Matthew,” she begs.

“It’s okay.”It’s not fucking okay. “You’re going to be fine.”He’s going to kill her.

“Stay where you are.” Remy drags her backward, his hold tightening on her neck. His forehead beads with sweat. He’s fucking scared.

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