Page 31 of Inescapable Ties
There were a good amount of Mafia members there, crouched behind flipped over tables and whatever items they could find to take cover. They were returning fire, but it was clear the assailants had the upper hand.
I had to find Luciana.
The grand hall had a landing upstairs area, giving me the high ground. I crouched behind a pillar, popping out when I saw an opening. After all these years in the Mafia, my aim was impeccable. I could get a headshot on almost every single man.
Fuck, there were still too many. They had taken out so many guests, who laid on the ground motionless. My stomach churned as I thought of Luciana, praying she would be ok.
I swiftly moved further down to the next pillar to use as my next shield. It was difficult focusing on taking the men out and not frantically scanning the sea of bodies for Luciana.
My current situation presented me with another challenge: I was out of bullets.
Before I could think of my next move, a wave of fire caught my attention. What the hell? Apparently the attackers hadn’t been expecting it either, as the gunfire slowed into an awkward pattern.
I took the opening to hop the railing into the planter below me. The soil and foliage broke my fall, and I quickly jumped behind it.
Whoever the fuck these guys were, they were professional. It was no drive by shooting. Someone had hired them to take out as many people as possible, and would push it just until police arrive.
An older man I vaguely knew, Antonio, lay dead a few feet from me. Laying prone against the floor, I pushed myself towards him. I reached under his coat and unbuckled his gun from the holster.
Before I could resume shooting the fuckers, the gunfire ceased. The police must be very close.
I was about to be very screwed. The police were going to arrive, and I had two unregistered guns on me. But there was no way in hell I was leaving without my wife.
I jumped up and began combing the sea of bodies for Luciana. Some whimpered for help, but most weren’t able to be saved. I prayed that she wasn’t among them, or, if she had to be, she could be saved.
I couldn’t find her. Out of the corner of my eye, a flashy handbag sitting at the bar caught my attention. It was Luciana’s.
I jogged towards it and poked my head over the counter. There was no sign of Luciana - only a dead bartender slumped on his side.
“Fuck!” I said.
A bloody handprint on the kitchen door caught my attention. It was delicate and unmistakably from a woman’s hand.
I snatched Luciana’s purse from the countertop and jogged through the bustling kitchen, frantically scanning the room for her familiar figure. All that remained were abandoned plates of food, surely left by the cooks after they heard the gunfire.
I exited the kitchen and went into the hallway, desperately continuing the search for my wife. The sound of two women talking in hushed tones came from a room to my left.
The room fell silent as I kicked the door open. Fuck.
“Luciana?” I called out.
“Emilio!” she responded, popping out of a used towel bin.
“Fuck!” I said, rushing towards her. “I’m so happy to see you.”
I wrapped my arms around her, and in that moment, felt like I had never appreciated my wife enough. My fingers ran through her hair as I pulled her impossibly closer, as if she might turn into grains of sand and escape from my grasp.
I was so overcome with emotion, I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her. But before I could press my lips against hers, I felt the familiar warmth of blood seeping through my fingers.
“Are you okay?!” I pulled back and scanned the parts of her I could see for injuries.
“We’re ok. We just got hit by some falling glass,” she responded.
I had been so relieved to see Luciana that I hadn’t even noticed Hilaria crouched in the basket's corner, knees up to her chin.
The faint echo of cop cars sounded in the distance, a reminder that we should not be here.
“We need to go,” I said.
