Page 26 of Three More Shots
Uwe positions his ride in sight line of the overhead door while Knox moves lightning fast to set up the angle and kicks off the grenade, not even giving the guys a chance to take cover from the fall out.
Fuck it. I signal Uwe, and he races down the road and up the ramp, ramming the steel door with enough force the slats snap across the bottom, and he pummels straight through.
Chaos greets us on the other side. Smoke distorts the figures running across the concrete. Fire quickly engulfs the huge wooden crates stacked four tall, and the heat pushes us as far right as we can get. My guys file one by one, flush against the west wall, with the scrape of the butts of their 47s banging against the metal as they race while I pump bullets into anyone who gets close. Even in the haze, I know none of them are my tinycara.
Sweat rolls down my torso and my eyes burn, but I don't stop searching. Don't stop scanning for her. Don't stop scouring the crowded space for her. A bellowing voice, attempting to take command, thunders from the back. I should've fucking known I'm dealing with a coward since he involved Corinne instead of going toe to toe with me like a man.
Huge mistake on his pussy ass.
The guys follow my lead, and I kick open the door to an office where my chest burns now. Fucking Beppe holds Corinne as best he can against his rotund belly. With her completely out, the old man struggles to keep her upright and maintain a steady focus on me. I had no beef with this idiot, and now he's going to die for harming my woman. Damn Isabella for pulling me into her bullshit.
His thick neck rolls wobble at me as he sneers.
“So my own fucking kid steals my drugs, runs away, and puts out a hit on me, and you think you’re man enough to be the one to take me out?”
“I didn’t give a fuck about you or your daughter. But now you’ve made me give a fuck.”
The old bastard jostles Corinne’s limp body and laughs. “Yeah, your gorgeous woman didn’t put up much of a fight when I told her it was either her or the retard kid.”
There’s nothing I would love more than to shoot this god damn motherfucker between the eyes for insulting my daughter, but before I can pull the trigger, he taps the toe of his brown loafer on the dusty floor, ensuring I don’t miss the syringe lying a few inches from Corinne’s black sandal. Inferring the significance from his subtle message, I have no option but to let him live a little while longer. I have to know what he poisoned her with before I butcher him.
“Someone left this behind in Isabella’s room, before they helped her escape.”
Pudgy, dirty fingers brush mycara’sthick hair to the side, and he breathes in deep, inhaling her sweet scent – a scent he should never be allowed to enjoy. Insanity infiltrates my already bent mind when his disgusting tongue darts over her silky skin, licking a damn puncture wound.Motherfucker.
“My guess? A high dose of Rohypnol.”
A wicked smirk curls his thin lips, deepening the wrinkles around his striking blue eyes before he presses his lips to her throat and my finger burns against the trigger.
“Her heart beat is slow…a little weak. Maybe she’ll wake up soon. My guy, Vinnie, did. Or maybe I’ll just shoot her in front of you, until you stop lying to me and give me my daughter. Or I can have one of my men take out the girl at the school?”
Done. I’m fucking over playing it safe and aim my Glock at his broad forehead. “I was just going to shoot you and be done with it, but you talk about my daughter like that and now you have to suffer.”
His chuckle echoes off the dingy walls. “Don’t you think you’re kind of outnumbered?”
As if I'm really considering his comments, I slowly look side to side at the six men he has backing him. Then I grin like the arrogant bastard I've never pretended I'm not. "Am I really outnumbered, Deuce?"
"I’m Don fucking Beppe! Who the fuck is Deu–"
The guys filing in behind me steal his words. I’d assume a man like Beppe would normally have a huge team protecting him, but he’s ridiculously outnumbered. Whatever the hell Isabella is doing, she’s made sure to weaken him.
Not used to being played, the elderly don’s mouth falls open, stupefied with the realization he’s going to lose. My team and their assault rifles are more than this sorry bastard ever expected. With his gaze on my army rather than me, I take a deep breath and focus on my target, shooting right through his hand to his chest. One of the few times I’m thrilled she’s so lightweight with only the crook of his arm holding her up, I get the hit without injuring her. Corinne hits the floor as Beppe stumbles back. Luckily, she’s unconscious and feels no pain from tumbling to the concrete.
That cocksucker on the other hand busts his ass on the ground from the bullet now stuck in his sternum. He’s going to die, and I’m going watch, loving every minute of his slow torture.
I scoop her up and sweep her tangled hair out of her exquisite face, grateful she’s not bleeding or bruised anywhere that I can see so far. Her breath is slow and even. The emotion I normally can't muster for anyone but her floods through me from the thought I wouldn't let myself think.
That she wasn't just unconscious. I kiss her warm forehead as Beppe writhes on the ground, not used to the pain of punishment with his security usually able to protect him. Until now. Until her. Until me.
I stare down at him as his body involuntarily convulses while he clutches at his shirt, now red instead of white, as if his hands can somehow stop the blood loss. Or his impending doom. "Fuck you, Dominico."
For that, I plug the bodyguard standing closest to him. That makes the five remaining scatter like fucking cockroaches with the light suddenly flipped on. But this intensity is my wrath shining on them. And from my guys, who make easy work of shooting them as they run. Normally, I would never shoot a man in his back or permit my team to, but these aren't men. They’re nothing but cowards who’ve shot others in the back themselves before, or so I’ve heard, making me give zero fucks about respect for weak-ass bitches who don't know any better than to drag an innocent woman into their boss's fight. Or the war his daughter instigated.
Beppe screams out. Impotent and worthless to himself and to me. I cuddle Corinne with one arm, while I fire another slug into his shoulder. "That's for touching my woman."
He whimpers, but I don’t relent with a round into his thigh. "That's for keeping her from her daughter."
Blood gurgles in his mouth from the internal injuries, and I watch a slow stream trickle down his chin before I pump one more cap straight into his terrified face. "That's for thinking you could ever survive hurting what belongs to Steele Dominico."
