Page 143 of Fighting With Light
“I know what to do,” I tell them.
I gesture with my hands for them to stand behind the door, and they get into position. When they’re ready, I open the door, and the guard stands up straight. I don’t even know his name. “Hey, I need help to close my window.”
He frowns and looks down the hall.
“Come on, it will take you thirty seconds. My arm hurts too much,” I say, lifting my hand to my bicep. I hear Liam growl and ignore it.
He glances down the hall one more time and steps into my room to close the window.
I close the door, and Emerson comes up behind him, putting him in a sleeper hold. He struggles a little, then Liam comes around and zip-ties his legs and arms behind his back. The guard’s eyes roll into the back of his head and he goes limp. I grab a pair of socks from the drawer and toss them to Liam. He shoves theminto the guard’s mouth and slaps some duct tape over it. They drag him into my closet and close the door.
“Your mom is right across the hall?” Liam confirms.
“Yeah.”
He grabs one of his handguns from his holster. Emerson is carrying a rifle with knives strapped to his thighs. “Okay, check the hall first, baby.”
I take a deep breath, opening the door like I always do. I stick my head out, and the hall is clear. I look over my shoulder and nod. We walk quickly across the hall into Mom’s room, and Emerson shuts the door behind him.
“Mama?” I call. She’s not in bed or in her chair, so she’s probably in the bathroom. I run into her closet off to the side and grab the bag I packed for her.
The bathroom door opens, and I stand there. “Stellina, what’s this?” she asks. I watch her look over my shoulder at the boys and she doesn’t seem the least bit bothered. She doesn’t know who they are.
“Mama, we’re leaving. I’m taking you far away from here. Doesn’t that sound good?”
“Aelia, my sweet girl—”
“Mia!” my father roars, throwing the door open.
And all hell breaks loose.
53
Liam
I don’t think Iact. Throwing all my weight into Marco Costa’s center, I slam his body onto the floor, away from Aelia and her mother.
I should tie him up and bring him within an inch of his life as many times as possible. This piece of shit deserves all the pain I can creatively serve to him. But we don’t have that time.
Before he can put together what’s happening, I pull my pistol out and hold it to his temple.
“Do you know who you’re pointing a gun at, boy?” he roars.
Marco tries to jerk out of my hold, and I peer up at Aelia. She has her mother behind her, and she’s looking between me and her father with wide eyes.
I want to pull the trigger.
“Dad, can you please just—” Romeo Costa freezes his steps and takes in the scene. He has a nice Italian suit on, something I would wear, and Emerson’s rifle is trained on him. Romeo doesn’t speak, he just stares at his father.
“Romeo! Shoot him!” Marco yells.
I hold him still as he struggles.
The situation is a powder keg. Someone has to make the first move.
So it will be me.
I squeeze the trigger, putting a hole through Marco Costa’s head. Blood spatters on my face and my chest, and no one makes a sound. Aelia and Mia don’t cry, they just stare.
