Page 48 of The Woman with the Target on her Back (Grassi Family)

“What?” I asked when Traveler’s head whipped to the side.

“Nothing. I thought I saw someone,” she said, shaking it off.

“Was that a normal amount of guys on your street?” I asked as we drove toward the soup kitchen.

“No, that was easily double what I typically see out there. And they are usually doing deals and such. Not just standing there staring at my store.”

I wasn’t going to tell her right then, but we weren’t going to be coming back to this neighborhood. It was too risky. Aurelio and I might have been experienced criminals, but it was just the two of us against possibly a dozen or more of those guys.

It wasn’t worth the risk.

Not even to keep Traveler happy.

“Let’s make this quick, okay, angel?” Aurelio said, eyes still on the street as we grabbed the milk crates from my trunk where we were parked on the street outside of the soup kitchen.

“Yeah,” she agreed, picking up on our tension, and getting tighter and tighter by the moment herself.

Normally, she would have stuck around, bullshitted with the people who ran and volunteered at the place. Likely, knowing her, even help out with the cooking or cleaning.

But she was quick to make excuses even as we were walking in, promising to be back ‘soon’ to help out some more.

She was met with a chorus ofYou do so much. It’s good to take a breakandTake some time to recharge. We’ll be here when you’re ready to be back.

Clearly, everyone had heard and was worried about her shop. And, by extension, her.

Aurelio walked out ahead of us, and I was just opening the door to let Traveler walk through when his voice rang out, loud, clear,panicked.

“Get down!”

I didn’t stop to think, I shoved Traveler back and to the ground.

“Get down!” I called to everyone inside as I crawled over Traveler’s body with my own just as the shots rang out.

Screams rang out at the loud pops, the sounds of glass shattering, the thuds as bullets lodged in walls and furniture. And hopefully nothing and no one else.

Traveler’s fingers were digging into me, her breathing fast and uneven. I knew if I pulled up, I would find her eyes wide and panicked.

But I couldn’t push up.

I kept my body pinned to hers until the last bullets had flown, and there was nothing but labored breathing and quiet cries.

Only then did I lift my weight.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Are you?” she asked, eyes a little watery.

“I’m fine,” I assured her, scooting backward so she could sit up. “Aurelio,” I said, heart seizing.

“Go,” she said, scrambling up. “Is anyone hurt?” she called, going toward them even as I rushed outside, my gun in my hand before I even stepped onto the sidewalk.

“I’m alright,” he called.

There he was, crouched down beside his rear tire, his gun out, but he was pressing it and his hand to his shoulder.

“Are you hit?” I asked, checking the street.

“Graze. Anyone in there hit?” he asked.

---