He sighed and glanced at his watch. Vittorio was keeping watch outside of the Fausti home. It was past time for Ricco's shift. All of them were working in shifts tonight to keep Nicoletta from running away – also, on the off chance she'd been the target, to keep her safe. He knew they thought he'd drive to her house – he wasn't supposed to go into the shadows until he was completely healed – but he was late. A bad feeling had been growing in his gut and it was growing worse.
Working fast, he stripped and pulled on his pin-striped suit. The material was made just for the riders and blended into every shadow easily. The moment he was dressed, he turned and headed for the door, moving fast, suddenly worried about both Nicoletta and Vittorio. His gut had never steered him wrong. As he pulled open his door, that feeling got so much worse. There was no waiting. He was faster in the shadows than any other rider. They'd tried clocking him on one of the longer runs, but no one, not even Stefano, could believe the time.
He chose his shadow and stepped into it. The wrenching on his body was familiar, but it had never felt like this. Not even in the early days when he was just a child and practicing. Now it was second nature, but his body felt like he was being torn apart. He never would have made it if he hadn't believed his brother was in trouble. The pain was excruciating, worse than when he'd woken up from the accident. He'd had pain meds then; now his body was molecules, being pulled through the tube at reckless speed.
He could barely function, making the jump from shadow to shadow to take him to Amo and Lucia's home. It was in the middle of Ferraro territory, just down from the businesses in a quiet little cul-de-sac. All the homes were kept up, the yards filled with flowers and trees. He stayed in the mouth of the tube, gritting his teeth and enduring the way his body flew apart, the wrenching so terrible there wasn't a single molecule that he didn't feel as pure agony.
Ordinarily a rider took a moment at the end of the tube to let his body reorient, but the pain was so overwhelming he kept moving, bursting out of the shadow. He knew instantly, even as he was emerging, that he'd fucked up. He felt the attacker before he caught a glimpse of him. Turning as he emerged, he tried to block the swing of the bat. It hit him on the back of his right shoulder, but he kept turning despite the pain radiating through his body.
His roundhouse kick took his assailant high, in the face, driving him to the ground. Ricco was on him instantly, reaching to drag him up before he realized there were several men surrounding his brother. Nicoletta burst from the house as he rejected the idea of keeping his attacker alive. He snapped the neck of the downed man. He couldn't afford to have someone coming at his back.
He heard Vittorio grunt and saw the flash of a knife. Nicoletta jumped into the air and caught the knife wielder by the arm and yanked him back and away from his brother. She landed on her butt, and immediately one of the men surrounding Vittorio turned, a gun in his hand.
"Move," Ricco ordered the teen as he rushed the gunman, keeping his body between the gun and Nicoletta. At the last moment, before the man fired, he hit the ground, sliding along the shadows there with impressive speed. He didn't even register the wrenching on his body. His adrenaline had kicked in and he was fully focused on disposing of the gunman.
He took the man down with a scissor technique, rolling and toppling him hard without warning. At the same time, he remained wholly committed to securing the weapon first. The man hadn't aimed at Vittorio or him. He had gone after Nicoletta. He yanked the gun from the man's hand, continuing the roll, putting him on top. Turning, Ricco fired at the knife wielder as the man stalked Nicoletta. The attacker seemed to fall in slow motion. Ricco couldn't believe he missed, he'd fired at the heart and he was a marksman, but he squeezed the trigger again, not wanting to take any chances with Nicoletta's life.
A flash of movement told him he had to keep moving, but it was already too late, the kick taking him on the side of the head, right where he'd been injured a few months earlier. His stomach rolled and bile filled his mouth, his vision blurring, but he managed to fire directly into the man's gut as his assailant tried to plunge a knife into the back of his skull.
The man staggered back just as Nicoletta screamed a warning. Lucia and Amo both ran outside toward the group of men surrounding Vittorio, who was on the ground. After the initial grunt of pain, his brother hadn't made a single sound. Three of the attackers turned toward Lucia and Amo. The three held knives and, strangely, rope.