Page 44 of Saving Mr. Norcross
“I just wanted a nice, relaxing vacation in Italy.” She threw out a hand. “Not this. This is all on your boss.”
“Don’t talk about the boss,” one thug grumbled.
Vander was sick of talking. He lowered his voice. “I’ll take on the guys by the Mercedes first. I need you out of the line of fire.”
A calculating look crossed her face. God, he loved it when he saw exactly how tough and smart his wife was.
“On three?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Don’t get shot again…or I’ll be really mad.” She dragged in a breath. “One, two,three.”
Vander was already moving, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Brynn dive to the ground and roll under the silver SUV.
He attacked and kicked the gun out of the first guard’s hand, spun, and his punch connected with the second man’s solar plexus.
This asshole had threatened his wife.
The guy made a choked sound as Vander held his body up as a shield.
Two of the guards by the SUV opened fire. Bullets slammed into the guy, his body jerking. Finally, he went lax in Vander’s hold.
There was more gunfire nearby. One guard shouted and went down, clutching his foot and screaming.
Brynn rolled out from beneath the vehicle and came up between the other two guards. She shot one. The third tried to whip his gun around to aim at her, but she jammed her gun against his side.
His face twisted and he lowered his weapon.
“Okay, baby?” she called out.
Vander’s lips quirked. “Yeah. Except we have more company.”
Two more vehicles were speeding down the road, coming from the direction of the villa.
“Well, shit.” She nudged the guard in front of her. “On your knees.” Then she yanked some zip ties off her belt.
She tossed some ties to Vander, and while he secured the one guard on his side still alive, she quickly zip-tied the other guards. Then she moved to stand with Vander.
He kissed the side of her head.
A large black SUV stopped nearby. The second car, a dark sedan, stopped beside it and disgorged more armed guards. They aimed their weapons on Brynn and Vander, shooting uneasy glances at their fallen comrades.
One of the men opened the back door of the SUV. Luciano Navarro climbed out, tugging his suit jacket into place.
Vander growled. “I’d prefer that you didn’t hold a gun on my wife.”
“It seems your wife can handle herself.” Navarro looked at his fallen men and sighed. He switched to Italian. “Lower your weapons.”
His guards hesitated, confused.
“Do it. Or he’ll kill us all.” The mafia don’s dark gaze leveled on Vander. “Won’t you, Mr. Norcross?”
Vander held the man’s gaze and responded in Italian. “I might let my wife help.”
“Do it,” Navarro barked again.
His men reluctantly lowered their weapons.
