Page 131 of Working for the Mob

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Then I was being lightly shaken, and the voice kept talking. It was Art’s voice!

“Genny! Genny?”

I finally drew in a breath, and found my own voice.

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?” Art asked. His face swam in front of me, still hard to see in the dark.

I didn’t hurt anywhere except where I hit the pavement. I could breathe now, although the breaths came in huge gulps.

“I think so,” I said, my voice weak.

“I didn’t mean to tackle you so hard, but …”

“Are you guys okay?” Henry asked, suddenly next to us. I sat up on the pavement next to Art. “Geez, Art. I thought you both were goners.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, bewildered. I still wasn’t sure what happened.

“Art threw himself in front of the car to save you,” Henry said, his voice filled with awe. “I think that was Valuncia getting away. Art, did we win?”

I didn’t care that Valuncia got away, or whether we won or not.

He studied me with concern in his mocha eyes and strong chin. Did Art jump in front of a car for me?

But he didn’t love me. People don’t put their lives on the line for someone they don’t love.Although,a small voice the back of my head reminded me thathe said he loved me just minutes ago.

My heart almost exploded. I flung my arms around him and kissed him like Henry wasn’t two feet above us. He kissed me back so fiercely that everything else dissolved away. It was only the two of us on the sidewalk as time stood still. Everything else was gone but me and Art, locked together.

He loved me. I knew it now. I don’t know why he broke up with me twelve hours ago, but he was here and that made all the difference.

Sometime later, it could’ve been seconds, it could've been hours, Henry interrupted us.

“Art, it’s Lance.”

“What?” Art demanded and left my side. He crouched next to Henry in front of a shadowing figure on the ground and I stopped just behind him. “Shit. Valuncia got him good.”

I had trouble seeing much of Lance in the dark, but Art checked over his body. He must have been searching for bullet holes or puncture wounds. I thought I saw him stash something in his pocket.

He put his fingers to his neck as I held my breath. “He has a pulse.”

I let my breath out in one big exhale.

Art held his head up and more light illuminated his features. Blood ran down his face from a cut at his temple and his nose leaked freely.

Art’s jaw moved back and forth as he surveyed his brother. “He jumped onto Valuncia so I could get to you two,” he said.

My legs threatened to give out and I put my hand onto Art’s shoulder to steady myself. I wanted to faint.

“This is my fault, isn’t it? He came for us,” I said, and Art shook his head.

“This is Valuncia’s fault. We need to get him to a hospital. Hang on, Lance.”

He hefted his brother over his back and carried him to the cars. I trailed behind him a few steps, not wanting to get in his way.

I didn’t hear the footsteps that crept up behind me, but I felt the hands that grabbed me and locked me in an embrace.

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