The crowds swelled until there was nothing but blackness overhead. I couldn’t see Millie any more, couldn’t find Nic or Jack. I was shouting but no one could hear me; no one was listening. I slid backwards, trying to get to my feet again, but someone knocked me to the ground. There was a rasping voice. Calvino Falcone, with his shiny bald head glinting underneath the lights. He charged over me, nicking my ankle with his shoe. I crawled in his direction, trying to free myself from the sea of limbs that were keeping me down, but he stopped abruptly and stumbled backwards.
I slammed my body to the right and he fell to his knees beside me. I reached out to use his shoulder as an anchor but he was too quick. He sprang up clumsily and threw himself at something. I was shoved backwards again. The blackness overhead enveloped me. Gino darted by, his gun pointed at someone I couldn’t see. Then there was a shape – wide and tall, and careening backwards. Calvino fell on top of me and I was crushed against the floor. I lay winded, trapped and star-fished beneath his limbs.
Someone was screaming my name. I couldn’t see properly. There was red everywhere. It covered the floor. My hands were coated in it. It was dripping around my ears. It stuck between my fingers and matted my hair in clumps. My shoes kept sliding on that thick, warm liquid, my eyes blurring with the sheer volume of it. I was gasping for air but everything smelt strange, like rust and salt, and my mouth tasted like metal. I was gagging as I tried to struggle free from Calvino’s hugeness. Why hadn’t he stood up yet?
And then it hit me. He was dead.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE GETAWAY
I pushed against Calvino’s lifeless form, trying to shift over six feet of bulky muscle. He rolled off me, landing face down on the ground with a thud. His hand was crushed underneath his body and his legs were sticking out at a strange angle. Blood pooled around us. It was all over my arms and legs, all over him. There were multiple stab wounds in his back.
My stomach lurched and I spewed vodka all over the ground. It mixed with the blood, glistening under the lights. With panic still flooding inside me, I stumbled forward and pulled myself to my feet.
Everyone was scattering. A smudge of faces streaked by me, their expressions contorted in terror. Millie was gone – they all were, Falcones and Marinos and Jack, and I was alone, steeped in Calvino’s blood. I stumbled towards the stairwell, trying to escape the screams that were ringing in my ears. It took me a while to realize they were coming from me.
I hurtled down the steps, tripping over my heels. When I reached the ground floor, I was swept inside a stampede clamouring for the exit. I called out for Millie but I was stuck inside the swarm and she wasn’t anywhere. I squeezed between shoulders and arms, pushing my way towards the front. If anything happened to her, I’d never forgive myself. I shouldn’t have brought her here – I should never have come. I was a bad friend, the worst kind, and the more people that jostled against me, the higher my panic soared.
Outside, everything was hazy. The air was too thick and humid. Sirens wailed in the distance. I staggered across the street. The pain in my ribs was resurfacing and my whole body was convulsing. I clutched at my sides and pressed on, trying to put as much distance as possible between the club and me.
On the other side of the street, I started trying to make my way back to where Millie had parked at the start of the night, but I was disoriented; I couldn’t remember. How much time had passed since then? An hour? Two? The blood in my hair was streaking down my face and dripping into my eyes, mixing with my tears as I gasped them out. I fished my phone out, doubling over on myself as old pains rushed through my body. The screen was blank – it was either broken or without battery. I shook it and tried again but it didn’t light up. Crap.
‘Millie!’ I yelled, blinking through the red, shouting into the sky. ‘Millie!’
I was yanked, crying and screaming, into an alleyway, and pushed against a wall.
Luca’s eyes pierced the darkness as he brought his face close to mine.
Then his hands were on me, his fingers running up and down my back as I stood shaking before him. It took me a second to realize what he was shouting.
‘Where did they get you? Where are you hurt?’
My teeth were chattering so badly I could barely speak. I looked down at his hands where they were pressed against my body. I was covered in blood. Every part of my dress was soaked. He released me and my legs gave out. I flopped like a doll, half-bent at the waist, panting.
He took my face between his hands, his thumbs smearing the blood and tears together on my cheeks as he lifted my head. ‘Sophie, you need to focus. I need to find the wound.’