Page 149 of Scorned Beauty
Do no harm.
That was a double-edged sword at this moment.
So I chose not to live in the guilt of inaction.
I chose to give Paulie a higher chance of survival.
Chapter
Thirty-Nine
Dom
I spottedAnton slipping between an alley.
“I see him.” I told them the street corners, but we each had our location dots on, anyway. Anton’s problem was he was a big guy who depended on brawn to intimidate but couldn’t run long distances for shit.
He was at the end of the alley in front of a fifteen-foot-high chain-link fence, bent over his knees.
He glanced at me, then straight ahead. “About time you fucking caught me.” Those were the words I made out, given they were muffled by his labored breathing.
“You need to lose weight,” I called. I slowed my strides, giving him the chance to recover, but held a gun loosely by my side. His hands were free of weapons, but I saw the bulge of a gun at his back beneath his dark shirt.
“Fuck you, De Lucci.”
“I could just shoot you.” I came closer.
“Why don’t you?” he jeered, straightening up and facing me.
“What’s the fun in that?”
He raised a brow. “You want to fight me? No weapons?”
“Like it’s hard?”
He gave a choked laugh. “You’re as arrogant and crazy as they say you are.”
“That’s Kirill, not me.”
At the mention of his pakhan, his face darkened. “He’s another son of a bitch. Traitor,” he spat.
“From what I hear, you’re the traitor.”
He sneered. “Are you gonna yap or take a swing at me?”
“Throw your gun away first.” I pointed mine at him.
He scoffed and threw his nine millimeter away.
The second I tossed mine, the fucker charged.
His linebacker shoulder drove into my gut and emptied my lungs. He tackled me to the ground.
I blocked the blow to my head and tipped him over, using my legs. Fuck. That motherfucker was the weight of a tanker.
We surged at each other in a flurry of fists and fury. Finally, I gained enough leverage to throw him over my hip. Not giving him an opportunity to stand, I jumped on him and straddled his body. I grabbed his head and cracked it on the ground. Then my fingers wrapped around his neck and squeezed.
“How does it feel to crave oxygen, huh, motherfucker?”
