“He’s alive!” I shout triumphantly.
“Get in the car,” Luca says, coming around the side of the battle-worn vehicle.
I stare at it in dismay. I can’t believe the thing will run now, and even if it does, how can we possibly get it back home without getting stopped by the police? Luca grabs me by the arm and points out into the parking lot. Through the hole created by one vehicle, I can see another in pristine condition.
I stop to grab Brandon. There’s no way I can lift him on my own, but I have to try.
“Go!” Frankie says, looping one of Brandon’s arms over his shoulder. He struggles to lift my brother before Luca comes to his aid.
Together, Frankie and Luca lift Brandon off the ground. They drag him like a drunk frat boy out into the open. I follow wordlessly, looking back to see if my husband has resurfaced. He hasn’t. I don’t know where he is. I try to listen for gunshots in the distance, but all I can hear is the engine of the mangled vehicle.
We reach the second car, and Luca pulls the back door open. Carefully, Frankie lays Brandon down and then ushers me in. I fall onto Brandon’s lap and then have to inch my way to one side, trying not to hurt him.
Luca jumps into the driver’s seat, and Frankie takes shotgun. I whip my head around desperately, searching for my husband. I don’t want to leave without him, but I’m sure Luca has his orders.
“We have to wait for Francisco!” I shout as Luca slams on the gas.
“No,” Frankie says, fastening his seatbelt. “Dad will be okay. We have to get you home.”
“No!” I shout, collapsing into sobs. This is all my fault. I need to know that Francisco is okay.
Luca pays no attention to me. He barrels out of the parking lot and onto the street, racing away from the crime scene. The only sound that’s left is my own grief. But then I look down at my lap and see my brother’s head resting gently on the seat cushion beside me. Brandon is safe. We got him back. No matter what happens next, at least I know my brother is alive.
CHAPTER 42
FRANCISCO
Irun out the back door knowing that I’m probably already too late. At the back of the warehouse, there’s a short alley. I turn left because I have to pick a direction. My gun is in my hand, but I don’t have a target.
I can still hear bullets firing behind me, but I’m laser focused on finding my prey. Carlo Andretti is going to pay for what he’s done, and I’m going to be the one to take him down. No one kidnaps my wife and gets away with it.
Pounding the pavement, I’m thankful that I’m still in good shape. Plenty of men my age aren’t, and that could be a real handicap in a fight. I come to an intersection. On one side is a wire fence, and on the other is Andretti’s warehouse. Across a narrow street are two other buildings. If I go left, I’ll come out to the parking lot, but if I turn right, it looks like there’s an empty field.
Andretti, coward that he is, won’t chance moving past my men. He’s going to try hiding in whatever scrub brush or dirt mound he can find. But I won’t let him.
“Andretti!” I yell, hoping to draw him out.
Giovanni skids to a halt beside me. I hadn’t even realized he was after chasing me. We confer for a moment before both turning right. The asphalt changes to dust beneath my feet. There are no trees, but the weeds have grown into bushes. There are a thousand places for the bastard to hide, and I know he’s armed.
I hear a shot, and I duck. I’m not looking to get killed. That would leave Marlena completely exposed, and I can’t risk that. Giovanni scurries behind one bushes, his pistol drawn. He motions toward his right, and I get the gist. He thinks Andretti is hiding that way, based on the sound of the bullet as it soared by us.
I nod, understanding the play. We’re going to circle around and hopefully catch him in the middle. I go left, racing from one bush to the next. I lose sight of Giovanni, but I’m sure he’s doing the same thing on his side. I still don’t see Andretti, and I don’t hear any more gunshots.
“Andretti!” I yell, unable to help myself. I’m so furious, I can’t see straight. Stealth is not my main objective. I would be much more comfortable doing this all out in the open, but of course, that isn’t an option with Andretti hiding like the coward he is.
I fire my gun in the air, hoping to spook the bastard out into the open. It works. Andretti takes off running. I spy him from across the vacant lot and turn to shoot. Giovanni opens fire as well, and Andretti goes down.
I hurry over to where he should have fallen. But when I get there, Andretti is gone.
“What the fuck?” I mutter, turning to Giovanni in confusion.
“I thought I got him,” Giovanni complains.
“Me too,” I reply.
All of a sudden, a car comes barreling through the fence at the opposite side of the lot. It plows through the overgrown weeds, its chassis thumping. The rear window descends, and I can see the barrel of a rifle protruding from the interior.
“Get down!” I shout, hitting the ground.
