Page 39 of The Italian Reckoning
“I’m not against killing everyone here just so I can shoot you last,” the gunman replies with a cold smile while his partner positions himself closer to me. “So if you want to cause some carnage, go ahead.” He leans closer. “Scream.”
She doesn’t. Sarah’s lips remain firmly closed as her grip on my hand grows unbearable. I take it, though, because I’m the only thing standing between her and certain death.
“Fuck off,” I growl, stepping fully in front of Sarah. Just as I face the gunman, the telltale press of a gun barrel stabs into my kidney and the second man’s voice appears close to my ear.
“Let’s take a walk.”
There’s only one way out of this, but if I take that route then I’ll be back to chasing Sarah all over the damn city. But we’re outgunned. My only weapon is back on my bike and Sarah is defenseless, especially against two armed gunmen. With their guns covered and trained on us, they force us around the back of the bus station to a much quieter parking lot reserved for people in my father’s tax bracket.
“On your knees,” the first gunman commands, motioning at Sarah with his hand. “I don’t want blood on my suit.”
She glances at me with wide, fearful eyes and complies, but I remain standing until the second gunman shoves his weapon in my chest and leans so close that his breath fogs up my helmet. “He said get on your fucking knees!”
“Who the fuck is this guy, anyway?” the first gunman sneers. “Your boyfriend?”
“Shut up,” Sarah snarls. “You won’t get away with this, you know. Someone will come looking for me and you… you’ll end up in prison dead where you fucking belong!”
The first gunman backhands Sarah with such force that she falls backward with a cry.
My blood ignites and I rip off my helmet, smashing it into the face of the first gunman. As he stumbles backward, I kick the second gunman’s knee hard enough for bones to audibly snap, and as he screams, his gun falls from his hand and into mine.
“R–Rocky?” The first gunman stutters through a bloodied nose after regaining his balance. “The fuck are you doing here?”
“Apologize,” I snarl, aiming my gun between his eyes.
“I–I’m sorry?—”
“Not to me, you dumb fuck. To her!”
He glances down at Sarah as she lifts herself up onto one elbow, groaning. “To her?”
“Yes.”
“I… I’m sorry?—”
The bullet thuds into his skull between his eyes, a clean kill. The second gunman scrambles across the ground, whimpering in pain while clutching his leg. I shoot him in the back of the head, rendering him dead within seconds.
My pulse races so fast that I feel dizzy and for a second, there’s only silence. Then Sarah’s voice cuts through my brain fog and drags my focus back to her.
“No way,” she gasps. “There’s no way… no way you’re him.” Fury ignites in her eyes, but there’s pain there too. Betrayal. “No way…”
“Now do you believe that I’m just trying to help you?” I gasp her arm and pull her to her feet, trying to be gentle. “All I’m doing is trying to save yourlife.”
“Fuck off,” Sarah snarls, shoving me away. “I don’t need your help. I hope yourot!”
16
SARAH
Sexy, mysterious Motorcycle Guy who I fucked in an alley and fantasized about is actually Rocky Barati.
The man I hate.
Life is playing some terrible, cruel joke on me, I swear.
Not only is Rocky my mysterious hunk, but he also seems to be the only person capable of keeping me alive since his father has put a bounty on my head. If I didn’t know any better, I’d suspect Matteo had something to do with Belle’s death.
Coming back to the casino was my only choice, and now I sit at the bar in Rocky’s private room watching him slice up half of a lime into small chunks. Despite the warmth in the air, I’m cold, although the ice pack I’d been holding to my jaw has long lost its chill. I’m so tired of people hitting me in the face. Do they realize how much it fucking hurts? I close my eyes and listen to my own heartbeat, trying to ignore the lingering sharp panic on the fringes of my mind.
