Page 120 of Tragic Empire
Descending from the ceiling by thick dark rope, the mysterious gunman fires rapidly, hitting every visible guard with expert precision. Not all of them are kill shots, some are meant to disarm, instead.
Bron had a team of twelve from what I could tell, some standing guard close by, and others on standby. The five inside of the room have just hit the ground. Doors bang open at the same time the man’s boots hit the ground. He doesn’t even bother glancing at the noise, and in one swift move, he makes it clear why.
Lifting the black balaclava up and off of his face, Nico shakes out his hair. Apollo, followed by several of our other brothers and Moretti soldiers storm into the room behind him. Nico didn’t need to look at the doors slamming open, because he knew who would be coming through them.
My family is here.
Thank. Fucking. God.
“I want that one alive,” Nico barks at our men behind him, pointing to the bald man who Ana once described to us. He’s bleeding from his hand, from the bullet Nico shot straight through his palm, knocking his weapon out of his grasp.
Looking right at the man in question, Nico’s mouth turns up in a cruel grin. “I hear you don’t typically have a taste for torture. Don’t worry, I’ll be happy to show you what a healthy appetite for torment looks like.”
Apollo drops to his knees at my side, beginning to cut off the ropes that have my arms bound behind my back. Remo does the same for Armani, quickly breaking him loose. Through his groggy state, Armani immediately moves to push Colton on his back, pressing his freed hands over the wounded man’s stomach.
“My shoulder’s out,” I tell Apollo, gritting my teeth. “Push it back in.”
“How’d he dislocate your shoulder?”
“He didn’t. I did, trying to get to her.”
I thrashed so fucking hard to try and get out, to get to my wife, and I pulled my left shoulder straight out of its damn socket. I wouldn’t have stopped until it came off entirely if I thought Bron was going to hurt her. As soon as he made it clear he was going to let her live, I started to accept my fate.
I could die for her, if it meant she’d still live.
I didn’t want Armani to die by my side, and I certainly didn’t want Ana to be trapped with that fucking psycho pervert. Falling into unrequited love with your stepdaughter is vile, whether she was eighteen when he started to look at her or not.
But anything was better than picturing my Ana lying lifeless on the ground. She needed to live—and I would have done anything to ensure she did. By some miracle, I didn’t need to do a thing. She saved herself. And our family arrived just in time to make sure no one got the chance to retaliate.
“All right, brace for it,” Apollo advises, putting his hands on either side of my shoulder.
Breathing in, I make a fist and shut my eyes.
The sound of snapping hits me before the pain does.
“Fuck,” I yell through my teeth.
“You’ll need a sling, but you’re good for now.” Apollo pats my back and stands up, holding out his hand for my good one to take.
“How did you find us?” I ask, grasping his outstretched hand and letting him pull me to my feet.
The only reason I don’t immediately rush to Ana’s side is that I see my father helping her, holding her hair back and patting between her shoulder blades as she throws up. Kissing Bron sickened her, that much is evident by the way she heaves and gags.
“Your wife chipped you,” Apollo replies, huffing like he can’t believe it.
Confused, my brows dip down. “What?”
“In your watch,” Apollo explains, nodding to my wrist. “Apparently, she convinced Remo to keep her secret because she wasn’t using them to track you daily. She gave him the security logins in case either of you went missing. But if you ask me, she’s probably got more hiding on you somewhere. If you feel a prick in your arm in the middle of the night, it’s probably because she’s injecting one inside of you.”
Perhaps I should let her; her planning just saved our asses.
“Fucking move,” a deep voice growls. I look down to see Remo pull Armani off of Colton, but he’s not the one who spoke.
Shoving a medic to the ground, Nico drops a bag of supplies, ripping open a package of wound-packing gauze with his teeth.
“If he fucking dies, so do you,” Nico barks, kneeling down by Colton’s side to look for more injuries while the medic begins to work. “So fucking stupid, getting yourself shot. What were you thinking, huh?”
The bleeding cowboy tries to laugh, a crimson grin painting his face. “Knew you cared about me, maniac.”
