I walk over to the fucker who got a shot off. Looks like a gunshot caught him in the neck. It must've hit an artery, judging by the way blood gushes out from the wound as his heart pumps. He’s clutching the wound with both hands as blood pools around his head and soaks his hair. His eyes focus on me. He tries to speak, but blood coughs up his mouth. I point the gun at his head and pull the trigger.
I keep walking at a fast pace with my guns raised. My heart beats frantically, trying to jump out of my throat and the only sound I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears. But on the surface, I’m a cold-blooded killer, walking with purpose, moving with a deadly calmness that would frighten sociopaths. I have one goal in mind. Only one thing that matters.
My girl. My sweetheart.
Three men run out with guns firing, and a bullet hits me right in the chest. I fire off both guns. One man’s downed immediately but the other two move off to the side to take cover behind an old rusted car. Tommy and Anthony go up the right side and duck as the guns come up and fire aimlessly. I take a step forward and aim. I hit the hood right where the hand was and hear the bastard swear. That’s not good enough. If he’s talking; he’s breathing. I walk forward and watch my guys go up the right side, sneaking behind. I’ll distract them. I run up close and fire continuously. Four more shells each. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! They sound off one after another, after another, until I’m firing blanks. I keep pulling the trigger, letting the empty clicks fill the air. I want them to know I'm empty. I'm counting on them to stand up and fire at me. And they do. As soon as they’re visible, shots fire from behind them and both men only get a single shot off. One just misses me. But the other lands on my chest, close to the first shot that hit me.
It hurts like hell.
I look down and make sure the Kevlar held up and there’s no blood. I’ll fucking live. But not without my girl. I take the pain and keep moving as I reload my guns. I need to find her.
I know there are rooms in the back. She’s got to be in one of them. My phone’s in my pocket. It’s silent. I don’t know how they’re doing at the clubhouse. But until it goes off, I've got to assume she’s here. My eyes raise and my guns point at a door as I hear bullets firing in the distance, somewhere in the back, and a terrifying scream.
Elle!
All at once we run down the hall, my only focus on the door. I need to get to her. She’s here. I heard her.
Gunshots fire over and over. Three shots, four shots, five shots. No!
I kick the door and it flies open. I run through ready to fire, and instead I stand in shock.
Anthony and Tommy stop behind me. I hear Uncle Enzo yell something from the back, but I don’t know what. All my focus is on my girl.
She’s got blood on her face. A nasty bruise on her chin. And she standing, breathing heavy, with her arms straight, holding a small gun. It’s pointed down at a short, bald man lying face down on the floor. His leather jacket is speckled with bullet holes and blood. So much blood, pooling around his body.
“Elle,” I call out to her, and lower my guns. I see Anthony and Tommy searching the room. I hear a yell clear outside the room, it sounds like Pops. But I’m not paying attention like I should. I walk to my girl. She hasn’t moved, except for her chest rising and falling with each heavy breath as she keeps the gun still pointed at the dead man.
“Sweetheart?” I try to get her attention, and it works. Her startled eyes find mine, and her body relaxes finally. She drops the gun to the ground. It falls to the cement floor with a loud clank and she runs to my arms.
Her small body wraps around me and she holds onto me tight. I hold her to me, loving how she’s clinging to me. But hating that she had to do this. Hating that she went through this.
“Are you alright, sweetheart?” I finally ask her. She doesn’t pull away and doesn’t answer.
“We gotta go, Vince,” Tommy says to my left. I turn, still holding her to me and see all the guys looking at us. I nod my head and kiss her hair.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” I ask again. My heart won’t beat right until I hear her talk. I know it won’t. I just need to hear her say it. I need to hear her voice to really believe I’m holding her in my arms.
She nods her head in my chest and pulls back. Tears run down her face. “I’m okay,” she answers me, and then wipes her face. My lips crush hers in a passionate kiss. Her hand wraps around my neck and she kisses me back with the same ferocity.
“I was so scared, Vince,” she whispers with her eyes closed as she pulls away.
I kiss the tip of her nose. “I got you now, sweetheart.”