I glanced out of the hallway, calibrating her directions for the movie in my mind. I turned to thank her but noticed that her upper chest was covered in fresh cigarette burns.
“Bastard,” I snarled, wincing when she jerked in fear, scrabbling into the headrest. Knowing the damage was done, to Luigi, I ordered, “Get her medical care and cover her with something, even if it’s your jacket.”
At his immediate approach, she tugged the sheet higher.
Aware that I couldn’t soothe her pain, I offered, “He will help you. We all will.”
Her eyes flared. Mostly, I sensed, with fear and disbelief.
Still, I left Luigi to it, knowing that I was the only one on myStiddawho spoke Albanian. I felt like shit for abandoning her to strange men she couldn’t talk to, but Kitty’s ringing cry echoed in my head.
I couldn’t be too late. I just couldn’t be. Fuck.
By the time we made it to the staircase, the Albanians had called in reinforcements.
Before we could take a step, shots were fired. Dead To Me pulled out a smoke bomb and lobbed it down the stairs. Seconds later, we were struggling to see through the goddamn smoke.
“Where the hell did you get that from?” Luciu snarled at her.
“Stop being a baby and squint!”
With that helpful advice, I took the stairs as fast as I could and, luckily enough, walked straight into someone. Not fucking around, I fired before he could.
Apparently, in dire straits, I had a decent aim because he cried out and staggered into me.
Using him as a human shield, I carried on, feeling his body tremble as he died in my arms whenever he took a bullet in the back on my behalf.
Luc, Dead To Me, and myStiddaproved their worth because with me at the front with a shield, they could spread wide to take out the fuckers who didn’t want me reaching my woman.
By the time the smoke cleared, corpses littered the floor like the trash they were.
“You fuckers aren’t just pretty faces,” Dead To Me crowed, stomping on a cadaver’s head.
Just for the fun of it by the looks of her expression.
Luc kicked one in the gut until he spewed blood. “We train with ex-SAS?* instructors.”
“Neat. Went on a few missions with those boys. They’re wild.”
Ignoring them and their pointless conversation, I followed the directions the girl had given me.
That was when I heard it—right in the distance.
A shot fired.
* Special Air Services in the British Army
EIGHT
KITTY
Playlist recommendation:
Beggin’ - Joel Sunny
Be prepared.
I was no Girl Scout, but I was aFrasierand our family motto was:Je suis prest.
