Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
When his gaze fell on me—and the gun—though, I saw something cold slice across his eyes.
For a second, I thought he was trying to silently communicate something to me.
But it was right then that the guy holding Alara noticed me.
“Put it the fuck down,” he roared, making Alara stiffen.
Her head whipped over, eyes round.
“Liam, go,” she pleaded.
“Yeah, Liam, you should go,” the guy holding her said as his hand slipped, tightening around her throat. “Or she will pay for it. And so will he.”
He nodded toward the desk, and my gaze followed, finding the muzzle of the gun pressed hard into Zeno’s head.
He didn’t seem bothered, though.
“I’ll kill her,” the guy holding Alara said, pressing harder into her neck.
Her eyes were panicked, her mouth opened like a fish.
Feeling lost, my gaze slid back to Zeno, looking for some kind of instruction.
He widened his eyes at me, then lowered his gaze down to his hand.
I tried not to be obvious, but looked and saw something metallic and sharp sticking out of his hand.
My gaze flicked back up to his, holding, watching, waiting, knowing there was going to be a sign.
“She’s gonna lose consciousness,” the guy warned.
I saw the moment at the same time as Zeno.
The guy holding a gun to his head got distracted and looked over at Alara.
Zeno nodded.
Then he shot up out of the chair, stabbing his makeshift weapon into the guy’s wrist as his other hand reached for the gun.
My gaze went back to Alara.
She was still conscious.
But her body suddenly went slack, dropping down into the guy’s arms, sliding down far enough that I had an opening.
I took aim at the broadest part of his chest.
My finger pulled.
Once.
Twice.
His body jolted one way, then the other.
Alara was released, and she scrambled forward toward me.
The guy was still on his feet.
The third bullet had him on his knees.
“Stop,” Alara pleaded. “You don’t want to kill him.”
But she was wrong.
I did.
I really did.
I knew it was the adrenaline, the fear, the anger.
But she was standing in front of me then, using her body as a shield, preventing me from emptying the magazine into his body.
Not that it mattered.
Because Zeno, seemingly finished with his guy, strode forward, almost casually, moved behind the guy, yanked his head to the side, and shoved the sharpened piece of metal into the guy’s carotid.
Alara must have seen my reaction because she whipped around, let out a small cry, then turned back to me. “Don’t look. Close your eyes. Don’t…”
I’d already shot the guy.
This wasn’t as gory as the movies made it look.
And it was all over in seconds.
The body fell slack, to the ground.
I glanced over, finding the other guy similarly still, facedown on the floor, a pool of blood haloing him.
There was a sound behind me, making me whip around, gun raised.
“Whoa,” Uncle Chris said, hands up, the gun in one of his palms. “It’s alright. Put the gun down, Liam. It’s alright.”
He was talking to me like a scared dog.
Like I might go feral and put a dozen plugs in him.
I lowered my arm.
Zeno was at my side then, grabbing the gun from me and walking over toward his desk.
It was a swarm then, Costa men rushing into the apartment, weapons drawn.
I was still staring at my uncle.
When, suddenly, Alara nearly tackled me with a hug.
“You’re okay. I was so worried you weren’t okay.”
She was making crying sounds then—big, hiccuping sounds.
“I’m fine,” I brushed it off.
I glanced up at my uncle as he tucked his gun away, then reached to pull both me and Alara into a bear hug, nearly suffocating me in the process and making my ribs scream. But I didn’t pull away.
“Charlotte?” Alara asked, sounding all stuffy from crying.
“On her way back to the apartment with Ezzy and Brio. She’s okay. Are you okay?” He pulled back, framing my face. “Fuck, kid.”
“I’m fine.”
“His face was slammed into the floor,” Alara said. “He needs to get checked out.” She sniffed hard. “And his ribs. I think he was kicked in the ribs.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “She was strangled. Twice.”
Uncle Chris reached for both of us, pulling us each under one arm, taking turns kissing our heads like little kids.
“They dead?” he asked Zeno.
“Oh, yeah.” Then, voice lower, “On me. Not him.” Then, a second later, “Though, he does have good aim.”
I wasn’t about to admit it was thanks to endless hours with friends playing paintball or Airsoft.
Alara’s hand was on my face, pressing into my cheek. “He saved me,” she told my uncle. “Twice. Or maybe three times. It’s all blurring together.”
Uncle Chris’s arm tightened around me. “Happy to hear it. But also, don’t ever fucking do that to me again.”
“Chris,” a stern voice called, making all of us turn to find the capo dei capi himself standing there. In his pajamas. Which was kind of funny. Everyone was in their pajamas, actually. “Salvatore is on his way to the clinic. I want them both checked out.”