A bullet whizzes by my head, and I whip round, diving out of the way before the next shot comes.
It’s Luis Delfino, a prince of sorts within their family and the most arrogant piece of shit you’ve ever met.
When his clip runs empty, I charge towards him. The mafia love their guns, and don’t get me wrong, so do we, but they’re prissy and don’t enjoy a good street fight. Not like I do, at least.
I tackle him to the ground—both of us landing heavily on the concrete—then drive my fist into his face. His head whips back, and he spits blood at me before kneeing me in the balls.
Bitch fucking move.
I roll onto my side, attempting to catch my breath, but he delivers a swift kick to my stomach that causes something inside me to pop.
“You inbred Neanderthals really thought you could steal my shipment?” he sneers, delivering another brutal kick to my stomach. “Thought I wouldn’t stop you? I believed you to be smarter than you looked, but I suppose that was foolish of me.”
He goes to kick me again, but I slice the back of his ankle with my knife, severing his Achilles tendon. He cries out and drops like a stone.
I pin him to the ground and press my gun to his temple. “The fuck are you talking about? This is our shipment. You’re trying to rob us,” I sneer into his face.
He looks at me like I’m stupid, still wincing in pain. “Of course you don’t even know who owns the product you’re taking. All you do is take orders like a good little bitch.”
Anger surges through me, but when I pull the trigger, the clip ticks. I try again and again, but I’m out of bullets.
That hesitation is all the opening he needs to deliver a punch to my face and wiggle out from under me. He starts crawling towards a gun lying beside one of his fallen men, and I decide we need to get the fuck out of here.
I jump to my feet then run to the van, limping slightly. Several of my guys, Ace included, are already there.
“Let’s go!” I shout, and we all pile into the vans as soon as we have an opening.
I try to work out who made it as both vans peel out of the parking lot. Several shots fire after us, shattering the windows before we turn the corner.
“What the fuck!” I shout, kicking one of the crates in the back.
“Easy, Blade. We got the supply. That’s what matters,” Ace wheezes, drawing my attention.
His face is bloodied all to hell and he’s holding his side.
“You good?” I ask him.
He winces and nods. “Shallow entry wound. Still, probably gonna need the doc.”
“That makes all of us,” Bunky scoffs as he whips the wheel round.
“How many are in the other van?” I ask, since it’s only me, Ace and Bunky in here.
“Three,” Bunky answers gruffly.
“Jesus,” Ace mutters.
We came with ten. That means four of our guys are either dead or about to be. Over what? Some fucking stolen product?
When we pull into the drop spot, I’m fucking livid. I fly out of the van and storm towards my father and Bones; they both look bored, impatient, like they’ve been waiting on us all goddamn night.
I don’t think—I just act, driving my fist into my father’s face. His head snaps to one side in a way that’s deeply satisfying.
Bones is quick to pull me off him, and to my surprise, my father doesn’t react. At least not the way I expected. Instead, he smiles at me, like he’s impressed.
“What the hell was that?” I snarl.
“Did you get the shipment?” he asks.