Dom laughs.
I lay a boot into his ribs.
A satisfying crack reaches me.
Music to my ears.
I grab his suit jacket, haul him up, and then I slam my head into his.
I go to get his gun, but it's gone.
A shadow falls on me as I straighten, letting Dom go.
"I'll finish the fuck." My father moves into view, kicking Dom in the head.
I turn, gun in my hand, as I realize it's not Dad that has Dom's gun.
It's Lola.
"Give me the gun."
But she shakes her head.
And she approaches, gun shaking. "I need..."
Lola takes a deep breath, aims, and pulls the trigger.
An ungodly sound fills the room as Dom screams. My eyes go to where the bullet hit. His balls.
I stare at her.
I was in love with this woman before, but now I'm in even deeper.
I breathe, taking the gun from her. "Lola... You violent, bloodthirsty thing. That was beautiful."
She's crying, silent tears pouring down her cheeks.
I almost turn and fill the writhing, screaming bastard full of bullets.
But Dad steps in. "Get it the fuck together."
I look at him. "Where's Lyndall?"
Dad gives me a not very gentle shove. "I don't know. Not where your friend claimed her heat signature was. Fucking technology. He's searching the guesthouse. I came to search here."
"She's in the guesthouse. He wanted her as collateral. A bargaining chip. So—" Lola wipes her face.
Outside, the gunfire gets louder along with the shouts.
"I'll finish this fuck," Dad says. "Go help find Lyndall. Now."
I grab Lola's hand and drag her, running through the mansion.
"They had a hood on my head the other time, and this time, I just couldn't... I—I don't know which way."
"I do." And I curse myself for letting this happen, for not forcing a million guards around her, not forcing them to be outside the fucking café. For?—
As heavy, running footsteps approach, we wait by the side door where I came in.
