Page 20 of Bruno
“Stay down!” I bark at him, scanning the hallway again. My heart pounds, fury rising inside me. Do these motherfuckers think they can invade my home and threaten my family? They’ll regret ever stepping foot on Falcone territory.
I spot two more figures at the end of the hall and open fire. They dive for cover, shots pinging off the walls around us. I grab Christopher and haul him to his feet, practically dragging him along as I retreat down an alternate route. We need to get to the safe room now.
I slam through a side door, Christopher on my heels. We sprint down a utility corridor, sounds of pursuit close behind us. Up ahead—the safe room entrance. I shove Christopher toward it, spinning to lay down cover fire so he can get inside.
“Attia,” I shout. “It’s Christopher, let him in.” I pray she hears me through the video feed as I drop another attacker. I glance back to see the safe room door crack open and Attia’s frightened face. She grabs Christopher and yanks him inside just as more gunfire erupts around me.
I snarl in rage, bullets ricocheting wildly around me. These motherfuckers just made the last mistake of their lives. I let loose a barrage of my own, clearing my path forward. It’s time to hunt. I’m ending this here and now.
Chapter 9
The security monitor is almost useless as Bruno sneaks through the house. It’s hard to see him in the dark, even with the camera watching. I stand next to Chris, our bodies tense with fear. Chris tightly grips the gun that I can’t bring myself to take from him. Right now, my focus is on tracking Bruno’s movements through the house.
“Should we help him?” Chris asks.
I shake my head. “Bruno doesn’t want us in danger. If we go out there, we’ll only distract him. We have to trust that he knows what he’s doing.”
“I hope so,” Chris whispers, his voice strained and hoarse. It sounds so different from his usual tone. I don’t look away from the blurry night vision feed. I should be worried about what this experience is teaching him. It’s the first time violence has touched his life. But if Bruno stays in his life, everything will change, won’t it? All the innocence I tried to protect has been taken away. Maybe this is what Bruno feared would happen. If that’s the case, I understand now. What wouldn’t I do to keep Chris safe forever? But even as I ask myself that question, I know there’s no guarantee of safety. This attack on a private island with armed guards proves it. And if Bruno makes it back to me, that’s exactly what I’ll tell him.Please, God, let him make it back.
On the screen, Bruno turns a corner with his weapon ready. His eyes burn with determination, even through the grainy footage. My heart swells with pride. He’s so different from the young man I knew in college. He’s risking everything to keep us safe. I scold myself for feeling proud, but it fills me nonetheless. He won’t let anything happen to us. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
I shout a warning to the video when an attacker jumps out from the corner, catching Bruno off guard. My words get stuck in my throat, and tears well up in my eyes. What would I do if I lost him again?
Chris drops his arm around my shoulders. “I’d miss him too,” he admits, reading my mind. “I just got a father, and it would be fucked up if I lost him now.”
I want to scold him for cursing, but I’m in total agreement. I breathe again when Bruno takes down the attacker, his movements swift and calculated. He’s like a well-trained machine designed for situations just like this.
“Damn, he’s good,” he murmurs.
I nod, but my eyes stay fixed on the screen. Bruno quickly restrains the unconscious attacker before moving on. I can tell he’s trying to cover as much ground as possible, making sure there are no other threats. We’re not out of danger yet, but for now, at least, it seems like we might make it through this nightmare. “Come on, Bruno,” I whisper under my breath, willing him to finish checking the house and return to us safely. “We need you here.”
We lose sight of him for a second when he steps outside. The camera catches him on another monitor. His gun is raised. He meets Marco, and the two men have a hushed discussion. I can’t hear. I can barely see. I want to snatch the damn camera down, grab Chris’s gun and run outside. I take deep breaths instead of action. The restraint damn near kills me. Anxiety eats at me like a worm feeding on a corpse.
“Must be something important,” Chris mutters beside me, mirroring my concern.
“Maybe reinforcements?” I suggest, not even trying to keep the worry from my voice.
“Could be.”
The men - Bruno, Marco, and three others—disperse. The fact that they keep their guns drawn tells me they don’t believe we’re out of danger as they each move in a different direction. “God, I hope he’s okay,” I whisper. I don’t even realize I prayed aloud until Chris agrees.
“Me too,” he says, his eyes never leaving the screen as we hold our breaths, waiting for them to return to view.
My fingers tap the edge of the screen, tapping out what must be a million seconds as we wait. I give up watching and turn to pacing, trying to distract myself as if I have a chance in hell of ignoring the fear strumming through my body. This is hard. For a moment, I’m grateful I’ve been spared this torture for the last fifteen years.
“Mom, try and relax,” Chris says, though it’s clear he’s just as wound up as I am.
“Can’t,” I snap before I can stop myself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay. I get it.”
He doesn’t. He’s known Bruno for a week. But I loved that man from the first moment I saw him, and I never stopped—not for sixteen years, and I’m losing him now…
Chris’s shout near the monitor slices through my thoughts. “He’s back!” he breathes, sounding like he’s won a gold medal in a race. I force a smile, trying to quell my own relief. The men go in and out of frame as they once again stalk the perimeter. Walking in patterns, striding through the woods, and returning to their meeting point in tedious circles.
A brutal thirty minutes later, the door finally swings open. Bruno’s face is streaked with sweat and dirt, but he’s alive. I throw myself into his arms and bury my face in his chest. He doesn’t complain. Instead, his arms wrap around me and squeeze so tight I can barely breathe.
“Thought we lost you there for a minute,” I admit, mouthing my words against his neck.
