I drop like a stone, breathing labored as I try to squeeze air into my lungs. I look down, and see my chest covered with blood. There's so much of it.
I desperately prod around the area. It probably missed my lung, and no major arteries were hit. Gritting my teeth, I shrug off my shirt, balling it to the wound.
My hearing comes back right when Mav shows up, rushing right to me. His eyes are frantic. “Are you okay?”
All I can do is nod. “I have to finish this,” I mask every emotion, needing this fucking done. I put the physical pain of being shot into the back of my mind.
Maverick squeezes my shoulder gently, not moving from his spot next to me.
I’m done; and now, so are they.
“This is for Phoenyxx, and for me, you fucking bastard.” I spit at my father, then aim my gun. One in my father’s head, the other in my mother’s.
I step back, almost dropping the gun.
Shock zips all through me, and my legs buckle. Mav catches me, helping me to stay on my feet.
I stare at my parents’ dead bodies, in disbelief that I FINALLY took that fucker down. My father, the infamous head of the Franco family. I never thought I’d truly escape him. Stupid tears well in my eyes, as all the emotions I had held back rush forward.
I choke back sobs, nausea burning a hole in my gut. The injury plus this is too much for me. I see stars; blacking out a very real possibility.
“I’ve got you.” Maverick tells me, helping me to walk. “Let’s move.”
I follow him back outside, looking and listening for any trouble. It's still clear, so we head back to the waiting car with Trav, who pulled up closer to the house.
I look back one last time at the home I grew up in, and spit on the ground.
Maverick and I jump back in the car, Mav getting in the back with me to put pressure on the wound.
“He okay?” Trav asks Mav.
“He will be. It's not life-threatening. But we need to get back as fast as possible.”
I drown the rest out, letting my eyes slip closed. My last thought before losing consciousness is that it's over. The bastard is finally dead.
Purge
The car I’m in gets close to my family home.
My head is on a swivel, looking out for my father’s guards.
I frown; it’s almost too quiet.
The way my house is designed, the street isn’t viewable beyond the yard. Which works perfectly for us.
My eyes scan the tops of the buildings and around the house, knowing the patterns the guards have. There's nothing—no movement at all.
I look at Blade, one of the ZYGOS guys with me, who says, “Taken care of.”
Good.
We exit the car, and move along the side of the house, winding around to the front door.
My comm kicks on, and Jax’s voice comes through. “Security is dealt with. Cams are on a loop, and the door is unlocked.”
My lips tighten, and my balls threaten to draw up. I'm nervous as hell. This is so huge. From what I understand, no son has easily taken out their father in the bratva.
We get inside with no issue.
