Page 140 of Rosetti Family New York
“You brought us here to die?” I growl. “Then why am I still breathing?”
Adrian’s grin is bloody. “Not for long.”
Another shot cracks past my ear. I drop him and roll behind the front-row seats. They splinter under fire. Rafe takes out a shooter on the left balcony. Emilio’s bleeding from the shoulder but still firing.
"They set us up!" Leo's voice rises above the chaos. He's by the door, shooting back with Emilio.
"Fucking knew it!" Rafe growls. His eyes are ice-blue and furious as he pops off two shots at a cluster of Albanians on the balcony. "You believe Adrian now?"
I glance at Sal, who's hiding behind a column. He nods, grim and pissed, then takes a shot that catches one of the bastards in the shoulder.
A dozen Albanians. The rat bastards had the whole place covered.
Emilio and Matteo are already across the theater, taking cover near the stage. Matteo’s got his back to the stairs, firing at the balcony. His coin clinks against the floor, forgotten.
Emilio shouts, landing a clean shot at an Albanian popping up from behind the curtains.
Leo stays by the entrance, cracking off rounds and swearing at anything that moves. "Where the fuck is our backup?" He ducks as a bullet whizzes past his head.
I look for the men we brought. Two are down, and the rest are huddled by the back wall, shooting blindly.
A sharp pain flares in my side. I press a hand to it. Warm and wet. Not life-ending, but a message. I grit my teeth and lean out just enough to put a bullet in the nearest bastard.
This is a message, alright. But I’m not fucking listening.
"We doing this or what?" Leo shouts from the entrance, his voice carrying over the gunfire. "Get those assholes!"
I make a decision. "Rafe!" I call. "Balcony!"
Rafe doesn’t need more than that. He pulls a magazine from his coat pocket, slams it in, and starts firing in short bursts.
I catch my breath, focusing on the nearest group of Albanians. One of them pulls back, injured. It sends a ripple through the others.
I smile, low and mean. That’s what I want to see.
"Don’t let up," I say, reloading. My side burns. The thought of Adrian’s smug, ghost-face burns worse. "I want them bleeding!"
There’s a loud crash as Emilio’s bullet hits one of the light fixtures. It drops, taking out two Albanians in its fall.
"You heard him," Rafe yells. "Bleeding, then dead!"
Rosetti men have pushed up toward the front. They fan out, pinning down the Albanians behind the curtains. I watch as one of our guys goes down, then another. Three more pick up the slack.
"Fuck!" Leo shouts as his gun jams. He throws it to the ground and draws another from the inside of his coat. "Come out, you Dushku pieces of shit!"
He’s red in the face, as usual. Impatient and pissed, as usual. I let out a breath, aiming at the balcony again.
"Moving in!" Rafe yells. "Keep them busy!"
The Albanians duck under his fire, pulling back into the shadows.
"Dom!" Matteo calls from the stage. "Want the honors?"
"Be my guest!" I shout back. I’m closer now, side by side with Sal.
He looks at me. At my bloody hand on my bloody side.
"We’ll talk later," he says. "Handle it."
