Page 132 of Impenitent Claim

Ilya cracked his neck. I could feel the smile in his next words. “Piece by piece.”

“Dad, no!”

That kid.

One second, he was safe. The next…the shotgun exploded.

My finger squeezed over the trigger as I stepped into the doorway. No more hiding or ghosting about. I faced the enemy and took him down.

Three bullets—one in each knee and the other in the throat. The accuracy was perfect. They were bullseyes to be proud of, and someday, I might be.

Don Aldo fell.

I knew if I looked at the crumpled body of my late fiancé, I would break. Ilya crouched protectively over him. I moved past the gruesome scene to stand over the choking body of the don. His eyes darted about in his head, a last feeble attempt to cling to life.

Bending over his body, I made sure he saw me. The moment our eyes locked, I pulled the trigger one last time.

Aldo’s head snapped back. His body stilled as the hole in his skull began to leak.

“Izzy! Get over here, I need you,” Ilya said quickly.

I turned. Confusion flickered through my chest. Not wanting to see the dead body of my friend, I focused on Ilya’s hands. They were twisting a belt around Alonzo’s thigh. Right above the knee. Blood pooled on the floor. The bright puddle inched out with crimson tendrils—

“Hold his hand!” Ilya barked.

Alonzo groaned loudly.

He was…alive.

Agony tightened my chest.

“Izzy’s coming. She’ll hold your hand, but you’ve got to let me work, okay, bud?” Ilya rasped. That grey gaze flicked up at me, worry etched in the corners of his eyes.

It was such a small thing. The desire to scream and fall apart fluttered through me. But no.Not now!Grief and despair needed to stay locked away tight. I could do this. I could hold the boy’s hand as he left this world. I just had to be impossibly strong for a little while longer. Then I could break.

I didn’t remember ghosting to Alonzo’s side. It was a blur, his form still refusing to focus in my mind.

But the moment something soft and solid clapped into my hand, reality swarmed back in a dizzying rush.

“Hold him tight, Izzy,” Ilya said firmly before he dropped his hold from Alonzo’s wrist and continued to work on the leg. Or rather…the gnarled stump.

I gripped the hand Ilya gave me for dear life. I poured the will to live into my friend. Alonzo focused on me, his body shaking hard from the adrenaline in his veins. That was shock, not necessarily death, right?I think?

Madonna Mia, what’s happening?!

Was there…a chance?I couldn’t bring myself to ask. I grabbed Alonzo’s other hand, bringing them both together in a desperate, wordless prayer.

“Tell me a story,” Alonzo begged in the Old Language.

My chin bobbed, and I cleared my throat. Words melted from my lips in Italian. It was a story grannies told little children about a monster that was tricked into a bog, never to haunt the town again. I couldn’t say why I chose that one, other than it was my favorite and I knew it by heart.

Ilya placed a hand on my shoulder. “He’s stable, but we need to get him to an operating room.”

Stable.Stable?“He’ll live?” I gasped, tears blinking into my eyes.

“If we hurry, there’s no reason he won’t make a full recovery.”

I clung to those words as we moved.

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