He bellowed in rage and forced the door open by twisting his oversized torso.
That’s when I used the handle of my Glock to hit him in the side of the head.
Unlike Maurizio, the gorilla was made of sterner stuff.
The blow stunned him and opened a gash on the side of his head, but he was still conscious.
He struggled to stand –
So I hit him again.
And again.
Third time’s a charm: the last one finally knocked him out.
He collapsed face-down on the driver’s seat, his knees on the cobblestones and his ass sticking out in the air.
Suddenly, there was theCrash!of breaking glass.
I looked up to see the shattered front window of Bianca’s dress shop.
Orange flames and black smoke billowed out.
Oh shit.
I felt sick.
No wonder she’d freaked out.
All her dresses – months of hard work –
Gone.
In the distance, I could hear sirens.
Fire trucks.
I was wondering how the fuck I was going to explain all this when a car roared up in the street behind me.
I swung around, gun aimed, heart hammering wildly.
I was expecting moreCamorragangsters –
But it was one of ours.
A black Mercedes. Vincenzo was behind the wheel, and a new guy named Amadeo was in the front seat beside him.
The Mercedes skidded to a stop beside me. I lowered the Glock as Adriano jumped out of the backseat, a gun in his hand.
“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!” he shouted.
“Camorra.Two torched the shop – they’re dead – ”
“WHERE’S BIANCA?!”
“In the café.”
Adriano raced inside.
