The man jerked sideways. Where the balaclava had been, a jagged hole gaped. A chunk of skull was missing. His body crumpled and hit the pavement.
That sickening sight made me retch again.
Madness ensued. I should have moved to safety, but I barely registered anything. I puked until there was nothing left, until my stomach cramped and I was dry heaving, gasping for air.
The truck door wrenched open.
I tensed, but that only made me cough violently.
“Porco Dio, fiore!” someone shouted—furious, blasphemous, alive.
Strong hands clamped around my upper arm. I tried to protest, but Vincenzo tugged me against his body. He was solid. Warm.Real. Wheezing, I closed my eyes.
He’s safe.
I helped.
It took a long time, or so it seemed, before I was breathing properly. The trick was to shove what I’d done to the back of my mind. I focused on the scent of leather and smoke andhim. It grounded me. His body steadied me.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Vincenzo finally growled.
“That you might need your lawyer,” I hiccupped.
Garh! My mouth tasted foul. I moved to wipe it on the back of my hand.
The hand that had been clutching Vincenzo for dear life and was now sticky. Sticky and crimson. A fresh wave of fear shot through me.
“Enzo!” I screamed.
He winced. “Hush, it’s fine. Just a scratch.”
Scratches didn’t bleed like that.
I pushed at him, hands scrambling to find the wound. The damn seatbelt was in the way, so I ripped it off and launched at him. Pushing back the leather jacket, which made the monster hiss, I found the bleeding cut on his upper arm.
“You need to go to a hospital!” I protested.
Vincenzo shook his head. “We have to clear this shit up. Then I’ll go see Joey.”
I gaped at him. “Who?”
“Joey’s our medic,” Vincenzo explained, though his voice was strained. He cupped my face with his hands and stared at me. “I am going to fucking kill Liam.”
“No,” I croaked. “You can’t hurt my boss. I love my new job.”
Vincenzo went to protest, but I cut him off.
“Wait—Joey is the owner of the Seventh Street deli.”
“He is.” Vincenzo’s lips flattened. “Dio dannato, do you have any idea what you just did to me?”
My heartbeat slowed. The danger had clearly passed if he was comfortable standing in the open like this.
“Do you have any idea what you did to me?” I countered, focusing on those twin pricks of midnight so I didn’t look and see the carrion littering the cement. “I saw men aim guns at you! If I hadn’t run them over, you would have died, Enzo! Don’t you ever do that again! I can’t even think about a future where you aren’t in it.”
The lines near his eyes softened. But only a fraction.
“I get that you’re angry,” I added. “But I am too.”
