Rage churned hot and bright in my gut, and I shoved to my feet just in time to see that bastard toss Summer to the ground before jumping on top of her, his white-knuckled grip closing in around the delicate column of her throat.
Urgency coursed through my veins, and I reached for my gun, deaf to Enzo’s demand that I take cover. A bullet grazed my forehead, and red filled the vision of one eye, but it wasn’tenough to keep me from taking the shot, nor impact my accuracy as I blew that Russian motherfucker away.
But I stopped fucking breathing when I realized my wife wasn’t moving.
Then, almost as if she were shocked back to life, her chest lifted, and when she caught sight of the dead man beside her, she tried to crawl away but collapsed before she put even a foot of space between them and began to vomit violently.
“Summer!” I gritted my teeth as shock waves rolled through my shoulder with each step as I sprinted to where she lay.
Falling to my knees, I cupped her face, and the scream of pure terror she let out was enough to shatter my heart into a million fucking pieces. Her blue eyes were glazed over, and it was like she was seeing right through me as she attempted to fight me off.
My throat closed up, and I rasped, “You’re safe. Come back to me. Please.”
She blinked up at me, the fog seemingly clearing from her vision. Recognition lit up in her eyes a split-second before they rolled back into her head, and she passed out.
“Matteo.” I peeked over my shoulder to find Enzo on approach. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? You could have gotten yourself killed!” He stopped short when he saw how I cradled Summer’s limp form to my chest. “Oh God. Is she—?”
“She’s alive.” The declaration had my cousin visibly sagging in relief. “Just unconscious. We need to get her out of here. Now.”
Almost like he’d been waiting for that order to be issued, Tino pulled up to the curb, and a team of soldiers poured out of the vehicle, guns drawn, on high alert.
“Stay here with them,” I grunted, lifting Summer off the ground. “Sweep the area for additional assailants.”
“Oh, you mean like the one who shot you?” There was a sarcastic bite to Enzo’s tone.
“Yeah. That would be a good place to start,” I tossed over my shoulder, climbing into the backseat of the armored SUV.
The minute we were sealed inside, Tino began to drive. His eyes flitted to Summer in the rearview mirror. “Hospital or home?”
I pressed a finger to the pulse point beneath her jaw. Her heart rate was steady and strong. Purple marks bloomed against the pale skin of her neck, and my concern shifted to whether or not she would suffer swelling significant enough to impact her ability to breathe. It was on the tip of my tongue to direct Tino toward the nearest hospital, but then I remembered the last time we’d found ourselves in an emergency room. Though the obstacle the staff used to separate us back then had been eliminated, her current injuries would lead them to believe she was a victim of domestic violence, and that would throw up additional roadblocks between me and my wife in a medical setting.
“Home,” I relayed my decision, praying it was the right one. “But have Dr. Corsi meet us at the penthouse.”
“He’s already on his way, sir.”
“And call ahead to Teresa. Tell her to keep the girls out of all living spaces between the front door and the primary suite.” I didn’t want them to see Summer like this—covered in blood, bruised, and practically lifeless.
“On it.” He pressed a button on the car’s touchscreen and began speaking to whom I could only assume was Teresa, her side of the conversation contained within the wireless earpiece he wore.
When we pulled into the underground parking garage beneath the building, I barely waited for the SUV to stop before I hopped out of the backseat. Tino put the car in park and killed the engine before jogging to catch up to me.
With Summer in my arms, each step pulled at my injured shoulder, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through. Leaning against the chrome wall of the elevator, I panted out pained breaths.
Tino reached for my wife, “Sir, you’re hurt. Let me.”
A growl worked its way through my chest. “Do. Not. Fucking. Touch. Her.”
He retracted his hands quickly, dropping his eyes to the ground.
Part of me felt bad about snapping at him when he was only trying to help, but the thought of how Summer would react to waking while being held by a strange man after being attacked had me in full-on guard dog mode. It would be a goddamn miracle if I let the doctor examine her at this rate.
We reached the penthouse floor, and I went through the biometrics to unlock the door to my apartment.
“No one comes inside except the doctor or Enzo,” I told Tino.
“Understood.” He remained outside since he was not one of the two people I’d just named with entry clearance.
Though it was a maximum of maybe seventy feet between the entrance and our bedroom, it felt like a fucking mile. I practically stumbled inside the ensuite bathroom, collapsing onto the padded bench set before the vanity.