One.
Two.
Three.
They fall.
He cowers, crouching behind the podium.
I reach the stage, mounting the steps with ease. My path is locked. Nothing can stop me now.
Lucas holds his hands up, realizing now the situation he’s in.
“Not such a big man now, are you?” I seethe, spitting the words at him.
He has the gall to grin at me. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement. You want one of the girls for free?”
Thismotherfucker.
He flinches, ducking away as I fire a shot next to his head. Not to hit him. Just to scare him.
That fucking video of Izzy plays on a loop on the big screen.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
I shoot the screen until it goes blank.
Lucas uses my distraction to his advantage, catching me off guard and tackling me to the floor.
The gun slips from my grasp.
He lunges for it.
I fly up, wrapping my arms around his middle and twisting us.
Punch.
I hit him, my fist slamming into his face. The skin splits at his eyebrow, blood trickling from the wound. I hit him again. Bones crunch.
He knees me, right in the balls.
I fall back, curling up—protective.
He gets his hand around the gun.
For a moment, I think he might just have the upper hand.
Images of Izzy flash through my mind as his finger twitches on the trigger.
I’m sorry, Cuore mio.
39
Crumbling To His Knees
