Page 81 of Giovanna

Massi and Matty relay the message to their drivers and they all shift from glorified Uber drivers into protection mode, their real area of expertise.

Francesca has been silent throughout the exchange, but the terror in her expression is evident when I assess how she is doing. She sits with her knees pressed together, hands clasped together in her lap, and despite sitting next to Elio they aren’t touching. It is like there is an invisible wall between them.

“You okay there, Cheska,” I ask her, mentally willing my brother to put his arm around her or something to make her feel safe.

She nods vigorously, but her face doesn’t display any less terror. “I’m fine,” her voice is small and I have the sudden urge to vomit at the thought of her being caught up in such a potentially dangerous situation.

“Just stick to Elio no matter what happens, okay? We won’t let anything happen to you.” When Elio makes no moves to draw her in, I reach out and squeeze her clasped hands in one of mine. She gulps and I mirror the action. It takes every ounce of my discipline to return my focus to my brothers when all I want to do is pull her into my lap and keep her safe.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Giovanna

The guys reckon my body isn’t capable of fear. Some of them have said I must be a kind of psychopath or something and to be honest, sometimes I have wondered. I’m not a serial killer who murders people for shits and giggles, but I have killed more than once. I don't get off on it or anything, but I was dead calm on each occasion and I haven’t lost any sleep about it. Mostly I lose sleep over the fuckers I haven’t killed yet.

But, tonight I finally get conclusive proof that I am not a psychopath.

I experience fear so acute it is like a hot knife slicing up my spine. The bottom falls out of my stomach and I finally understand what people mean when they say ‘time stood still’.

We have been so fucking complacent that it kills me to even think about it. Sitting ducks. Cocky, over-confident, morons. I approached security for this wedding with the naivety of a kid who has only lived through peacetime. Lax.

When we are safely home and Francesca is tucked up in bed, I will dedicate some serious time to beating myself up about this, but right now I need to focus.

“Traffic lights ahead. To our left. BMWs, no plates,” Matty’s voice comes through the speaker calm and direct.

“Okay, we are definitely the target. They will try to get us off the road somewhere less populated. Adjust routes accordingly,” I command. “Seatbelts on, everyone.”

Francesca’s hands shake as she tries to pull her seatbelt across her body and I quickly take it and secure it for her. “Deep breaths, darlin’. We’ll all be fine,” I whisper to her gently and she just nods mutely.

As the last car in our cavalcade, we are in danger of being targeted first and all we can do is watch as the four blacked-out vehicles turn in behind us.

Just as we can’t see into their cars, they can’t see into ours, but I don’t doubt they know which of us is in each of our three vehicles. They had eyes on us, watching so they knew when we were leaving and we made it fucking easy for them.

Our drivers stick to busy roads, but it is two in the morning and as soon as we are out of the central city the streets become quieter and quieter. Other than looping back around and heading back into the city, we are short of options. We can drive around in circles all night, but eventually, we will run out of gas.

“Get your weapons,” I bark, kicking my heel back against the false compartment under my seat. The leatherbound panel pops out and I pull a semi-automatic from the cavity and check the handgun in my shoulder holster is loaded. Elio does the same.

“I don’t know how to shoot,” squeaks Francesca.

“We’ve got you,” Elio says, finally turning his eyes to her. He better fucking have her. If he doesn’t keep her safe, I’ll…I don’t know what I’ll do.

“On the move, boss,” Connor catches my eye in the rearview mirror and I whip my head around to see the BMWs speed up and move into the empty lane for oncoming traffic.

Here we fucking go. I quickly kiss the crucifix that hangs at my neck out of habit. It was my mother's and despite my complicated relationship with Catholicism, it brings me some measure of comfort.

Craning my neck I see the first BMW swerve in front of the car leading our cavalcade which carries Matty and the two other guys who served as Tiny’s groomsmen with him.

Immediately, the rest of the BMWs move to box us in and the front car slows forcing us all to slow with it. Up ahead the night seems to swallow up the road as street lights become dispersed at less frequent intervals and there isn’t a house in sight.

The dark, manicured expanse of a large golf course sprawls to our right, and some kind of nature reserve to our left. The perfect spot for an ambush.

The SUV tailing us surges forward so close it may as well clip itself onto our tow bar and the windshield, unable to be tinted so completely black, reveals two men dressed all in black as if they are members of some kind of special ops team. The one not driving holds a massive semi-automatic across his chest.

“If we can just get to the residential area on the other side of the golf course we should be good,” remarks Connor through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the steering wheel hard.

“They won’t let us,” I respond matter of fact and emotionless. “They will run us off the road shortly. Everyone brace and then get the fuck out of the cars. Use them as shields and shoot to kill.”

The words have barely passed through my lips when, as one, the BMWs pull back slightly before accelerating forwards. We are all hit from the side and the rear with a sickening symphony of crunches and shrieking metal.

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