Page 19 of Dane

CHAPTER 10

DANE

They shot up all the windows on the front of the mansion. Glass and bullet casings littered the living room floor. Donnie DeLuca ran out of luck that night when several bullets struck him in the face and gut, his lifeless body lying in a pool of blood.

The shoulder of Nolan’s tailored suit jacket was torn and bloody where a bullet ripped through it. He was more annoyed about a ruined suit than he was at getting shot at.

I ran up the stairs feeling like I was moving in slow motion. I entered Michael’s bedroom to see him clutching Anna as she held him in his bed. Anna sobbed. Michael’s eyes were wide, the expression on his face blank. I rushed over to them.

“Daddy!” Michael screamed, reaching out with his little arms.

I scooped him up and held him tight against my chest.

“My son.” I croaked out, squeezing my eyes shut—the feeling of dread hit me right in the center of my chest. If I lost Michael or Rory, I wouldn’t be able to go on living.

I reached my hand out to Anna, and she took it, colliding into my chest sobbing hysterically.

I entrusted Brody to drive Rory, Michael, and Anna to Nolan’s house, where I knew they would be safe and with Gina.

The county’s law enforcement was dispatched, not surprising with the sound of bullets like a battle zone right in the middle of a rich fucking gated community. A dozen police cruisers pulled up in front of the mansion, but both Push and Nolan cleared them out within a few minutes.

Thankfully no one else was injured, but the women - Desiree, Candace, Loren, Lyla, and Tamika - all had the look of fear and shock in their eyes as they left. Donnie’s men stayed behind to gather up his dead body, taking him away. I told his men to meet me in a few days in Nolan’s office at the MGM.

The only thing left we had to deal with was the man that lost his footing as he tried to get away in the car that sped away. Carlo got to the man, tackling him on the street in front of the mansion. Now he was sitting and tied to one of Rory’s dining room chairs in the living room. His one eye was swollen shut, thanks to Nolan.

Donnie DeLuca was the target, not me. Even after I shot two bullets, blowing out the man’s knee caps, he still didn’t give us his name or who gave the order.

“Who gave the order?” Push asked again, backhanding the man across the face.

The man spat a wad of blood on Push’s pant leg while he cussed in Italian.

Push put the man in a headlock, then continued with more torture, gouging out one of his eyeballs with a serving spoon used that night from a plate of appetizers.

As the man screamed and sobbed in pain, images of Michael and Rory flooded my mind, their lifeless eyes staring at me, their bodies covered in bullet holes and blood.

I stepped up to the man, raised my gun, aimed at his face, then pulled the trigger. Blood splattered on my hand, face, and all over the god damn place.

“I would have gotten it out of him, Dane,” Push said, exasperated.

I raked a bloody hand through my hair. “Yeah, well, my priorities have been kicked up a notch. I’m going to kill them all.”

****

I left orders for Carlos, and Push stayed with him to clean up as best they could at the mansion. Nolan drove us both to his spacious house on the Potomac. We entered Nolan’s dark living room illuminated only by the pool out back through the enormous windows. Rory sat on the couch wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt that Gina must have let her borrow. Michael sat straddled on Rory’s lap, his little arms wrapped around her shoulders. He had his head turned away from me, but I knew he was fast asleep. Anna was curled up on her side on another couch, sleeping. Gina sat beside Rory and climbed off the couch, rushing over to Nolan.

I sat down beside Rory and saw the tears in her eyes, with streaks of mascara down her cheeks.

I cupped her cheek and kissed her on the lips.

Michael whimpered. He turned his head toward me as his eyes fluttered open.

“Did you get shot, Daddy?” he asked.

“No, son. I’m okay,” I replied, a sharp pain in the middle of my chest as I looked into his eyes that were just like mine.

“There’s blood on your right cheek,” Rory whispered.

“It’s not mine,” I said, rubbing the sleeve of my shirt vigorously over the side of my face. “You, Michael, and Anna will stay here with Gina until me and Nolan figure things out.”

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