Page 41 of Blood & Loyalties
Damian’s head peeked around the table, and I made eye contact with him. “See, you have a better piece of ass now, the boss’s daughter. Hi, Catarina. Nice to talk to you again.” He laughed, the disrespectful little shit. Fuck that.
I reached for my purse, pulling out my .9mm—Dad’s present to me about three years ago. Men seemed to underestimate me as a woman, thinking I couldn’t do shit. I called bullshit.
“Make your fucking point,” Jag growled low, his fists clenched so tightly all I could see was white. I bided my time.
“I can’t let you go back to California.” Damian sighed. “Can’t have the boss man there, after my dad. I’m not fucking stupid. I know that’s the first order.”
“You think I’m gonna just let you kill me? You’re fucking delusional.” Jag moved his hands from the side of the table until I could no longer see them.
I moved behind Jag’s leg and aimed my gun as discreetly as possible, unlocking the safety, ready to cock and fire at a moment’s notice. Then something behind us clattered loudly, taking everyone’s attention, and I took that as my opportunity.
My shot blew a hole in Damian’s shoulder, causing him to drop the gun. As it skittered across the floor, Damian started reaching behind his back, and I was afraid he had another gun, so I shot again, hitting Damian’s kneecap and sending him to the floor, landing on the other knee. His screams were deafening as blood leaked from his knee and flowed across the floor.
I slowly rose from the table and took in my surroundings. Scraper’s body was lying on the floor, but no blood was coming from it. The asshole standing over him had a gun cocked, ready to shoot.
Jag pulled a gun from somewhere and moved fast, slamming the butt into Damian’s head, stopping his wails instantly. Then he trained the gun on the guy who had Scraper while I put my gun on Damian, just in case he moved an inch.
“Back the fuck off, or I put a bullet in your fucking head.” Jag’s voice went beyond scary to the point of holy shit. Was that the same guy I had been sleeping with?
Ghost slipped in behind the man, and Jag’s body went taut.
I slid behind him and whispered in Jag’s ear, “That’s Ghost. He’s with me.”
Ghost easily removed the gun from the guy above Scraper, hitting him hard and knocking him out cold. His large body crashed to the floor.
“Tie him up,” Jag directed, and Ghost instantly got to work.
I could feel ice forming in my veins as I stared down at Damian, keeping my gun on him. He was younger than his voice suggested. With dark hair and brown eyes, he wasn’t a bad looking guy, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t shoot him between the eyes.
I heard Jag talking on the phone, though I only heard bits of his conversation.
Holy. Shit. I actually shot a man, really shot him. I didn’t kill him, but I actually pulled the trigger, and a bullet went inside this man’s body, cutting into his leg and another in his shoulder. I should be mortified. I should be scared. I should be, shouldn’t I? That feeling didn’t seem to want to come like it should.
“Yeah, she’s perfectly safe.” I glanced over to Jag, nodding and giving him a meek reassurance that I was sure he saw through.
“Scraper is unconscious; Ghost is on Damian; his guy is tied up; and I swear to Christ, if my fucking men don’t get in here in the next two minutes, I’ll put a bullet in them.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Blondie barreled through the door.
Jag scowled at him, still holding the phone to his ear, his eyes glaring. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“Sorry, boss. They had three guys out front, and they tried subduing me. With that guy’s”—he pointed to Ghost—“help, they’re all dead.”
“Shit,” Jag grumbled then relayed the information to either my father or uncle. “Where the hell is Dan?”
“He’s not in here with you?” Blondie asked, surprised.
“Does it look like he’s fucking in here?”
Blondie took off, and then minutes later, he was dragging the big hunk of a man into the restaurant.
“What the fuck happened?”
“Hit to the head. Not sure what else. He’s breathing, though.” Blondie tried to say as he heaved for air. I couldn’t blame him; Hulk was a big man.
“You two, help him tie these fuckers up. Blondie, find the owner and waiters; get it sorted.” Jag stopped and wrapped his arms around me, burying his face into my hair and breathing me in. I felt his hand come up to my neck and rest on my vein that thudded under his touch. He kissed me on the temple before he pulled back, a bit of relief on his face.
“Catarina, please go check on Scraper and Hulk.”
I didn’t think twice about the orders, just got to work immediately. I looked down at the guy who had protected me for the past six years and the other whom I kind of liked and quickly checked them over. Bumps on the head. They were gonna be so pissed they had gotten knocked out like that when they woke up.
