Maybe this blow will knock me out completely.
Rage courses through my veins so fast, so unadulterated there’s no stopping me as I barrel across the room straight into him.
There’s blood. So much blood. On her face. On the carpet.
He dared to touch her.
He hurt her.
My fist rams into his face again and again.
Dante struggles but manages to shove me off him. I recover just before he throws his shoulder into my gut. Grabbing him around the neck, I drive my knee into his face, his chest.
“Asshole….motherfucker…” He throws out curses as I toss him back to the ground.
He jumps back up his feet, flying at me with his fist raised. I take a punch to my left jaw, but it’s not enough to do anything other than piss me off more.
Dante’s out of breath. He staggers back, taking another swing. Easily I dodge it, and he stumbles forward. When he spins around to come at me again, I’m ready for him.
His nose crunches as it breaks. Blood pours down his face, and he falls to his knees. I kick at his chest, shoving him to the ground.
With a groan, he tries to get up, but I step on his throat, holding him steady.
“You touched her.” I pull the Glock out of my side holster, aiming it at his face. “You touched my wife.”
The rage builds. My throat nearly splits when I yell, “My wife!”
Dante’s left eye swells. Blood leaks from the split in his bottom lip. His eyes widen as he tries to shove me off his throat.
“She’s my cousin,” he strangles out from beneath my foot on his throat.
He says it like he has claim to her. Like he’d be doing me a favor by getting rid of her.
I hug the trigger with my finger. My pulse whooshes in my ears.
He pushes on my foot just enough to get a strong breath of air. “Fottuta puttana.”
The bullet hits him between his thick, black eyebrows and his head falls back against the floor.
Sienna lays curled into herself, holding her knees up to her chest. When I try to unfurl her, she yanks back.
“Sweetheart, let me see. Please let me see.” I try again, but she’s shaking her head.
“It hurts. So much.” She rolls to her back for me, straightening her legs while clenching her stomach. There’salready bruising on her face, her cheek and jaw. Blood from her lip dries on her chin.
But it’s the way she’s grabbing at her midsection that sends my mind spiraling.
“Baby, where? Tell me where it hurts most.” When I see her crotch, I understand.
“Kaz, what’s wrong? Why does it hurt so much?” She rolls her head to the side, tears streaming down her face.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re going to be okay.” I gently slide my arms beneath her body, careful as I hoist her up.
Once in the car, speeding in the direction of the hospital, I get on the phone and shout out orders.
I hit the gas, weaving through traffic.
“Kaz.” Sienna moans, her head rests against the window.
