“I can’t leave him.”
“You can, and you will. Get to the panic room. Now.”
Hunched over, he dragged me through the wreckage of dried blood, glass, and drywall that turned the floor into a maze of snares. I watched helplessly as one of the men I’d just helped treat crumbled to the floor, riddled with bullets. Natale held his gun at the ready, firing twice behind us, but not stopping to check if he’d gotten them. I stumbled over a dead enforcer, a trickle of blood rolling from the hole in his head, and picked up his gun.
Massimo and Alfie manned the kitchen door entrance, both covering our approach. “Come on, come on,” Massimo urged.
“Through there.” Natale shoved me through the doorway. “On your left. Scan your hand and the door’ll open. He’d want you in there.”
There wasn’t time to argue. I landed on my knees, breaking my fall with the gun. It clacked against the kitchen tile. By the time I turned around, Natale was back in the fray.
I didn’t run for the panic room. I wasn’t some damsel in distress in need of protection. Instead, I lay on my belly between Massimo and Alfie and took aim. Shot after shot, the gun recoiled in my hands. I didn’t think of the people I killed. I thought of the ones I saved.
Ilias Dimakos went down, but that didn’t stop the men he came with. Too soon, my gun clicked empty. I threw it aside. Another dead man’s gun lay four feet away, so I crawled forward.
“Now. Time to move,” Massimo yelled behind me. A hand grabbed my waistband and yanked me back.
Caught off guard, I reacted too slowly. By the time I realized what was happening, there was nothing for my fingers to grasp onto.
“Let me go.”
A set of hands flattened me to the ground. The bright screen of a phone flared in front of my face, a picture of Lou on the display. Her mouth was taped, her eyes shut, her head leaning to the side, unconscious. A seatbelt wrapped over her shoulder.
“Come with us now, or she dies.”
Pop after pop continued going off with bangs, cracks, and thwacks as bullets hit metal, plaster, and booth cushions. It was all background noise compared to that photo.
“Why?” I asked, though I could guess the answer. My hands and legs shook with the need to help her.
Alfie muscled me to my knees, tugging my arms behind my back as far as they could go. I winced.
“Make this easy or hard,” Massimo threatened. “It’s your choice.”
The fight was still ongoing. Any sound I made, any distraction I caused, might put the rest of the fighting Iannelli men at a disadvantage.
“Is she alive?”
“For now. You’ll see her soon.”
That was good enough. “Okay. I’ll go.”
I didn’t argue as they walked me through the service doors and outside. I didn’t protest as they wrapped duct tape around my crossed arms in front of my chest, taped my legs together, and taped my mouth. I sat as directed in the back seat of Massimo’s car and waited. Once the car began moving, I slowly sliced away at the tape with one of the scalpel blades in my pockets.
Chapter 45
Thesteeringwheelleathercreaked under my grip as Tore clicked his lighter open and shut, over and over. The light ahead turned red, and I slammed on the brakes, throwing us both against the seatbelts. The screech of the tires was a welcome change from Tore’s constant muttering.
“Tore,” I warned as the car came to an abrupt stop. “Get it out before I throw you out.”
His head shook. “She’s like my kid sister, Ren. You get that, right?”
“Ainsley hasn’t been a kid in years.”
“And that gives you the right?”
“No, that means she’s old enough to make her own decisions, and you need to respect that!”
“How the hell did this happen? You guys hate each other.”
