Fuck my nerves.
“Oh, I was thinking about something else. But don’t bother repeating, I really don’t care.” I smile and try to move between them, but the thugs narrow the space.
“We will hurt you if you don’t follow us,” Coppola threatens me. The way he’s X-raying my skirt is gag-inducing.
“Us? Are you those psychos from…what was the name of that ridiculous cult?” I ask them, hoping to gain some time out in the open. Just enough to find a distraction that can get me out of this shitty situation. Because following them is not an option.
“The fuck?” craggy face, the brightest of the bunch grunts.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to accidentally insult you. I usually do it voluntarily. Donuts?” I smile sweetly while offering the box.
Coppola looks at it with interest, they are definitely low soldiers. Coretti’s or Enzino’s? How the fuck did they find me?
“Hold that tongue, you little shit!” The short one, the leader takes a step toward me.
“Hard to do when being sarchotic.” Sarcastic with a hint of psychotic. “Now, please back off, Igor.” I lift the box, ready to throw it at them.
“That’s not his name.” Craggy face looks confused.
I lower the box to clarify. “Igor is Dr. Frankenstein’s assistant. You know, the cross-eyed, hunchback, limping, with a face that looked like a Picasso painting?”
“Are you disrespecting me?” The leader growls.
“Duh, Sigmund.” This would be ridiculous if I weren’t in imminent danger. But they look like extras froma Mafia B movie.
“Again, not his name!”
Oh dear God. How did they find me without a brain?
Coppola man is suddenly in front of me, and he grabs my wrist with his disgusting paw, making me drop the box of donuts on the ground. Luca’s birthday present! I kick his shin and stomp on his foot with my stiletto heel. The guy groans before slapping me in the face. His tacky ring cuts me, and my knee comes up and gets him right in the jewels in retaliation.
My hair is abruptly yanked back, and my skull burns as I’m dragged a few steps backward. I sink my nails into the hand on my head and then twist my body around until I’m face to face with the craggy-faced shitbag. This time, it’s the top of my foot that strikes the balls. He lets me go, and I stumble backward, breaking the heel on my left boot.
I see red. Another pair of boots I can’t use anymore. I turn to the short one and snarl his way before launching myself at his organs. I tackle him against the wall while scratching, biting, and kicking.
“Get him off me!” he screams, before I feel something hitting the back of my shoulders. The street starts swaying as pain explodes at the back of my neck. Then my ass hits the ground, fuck that really hurts.
“This all you can do?” I slur. Brain-worm-infested amateurs.
Short guy points a gun at me. I wave at him with a snort, like that ever scared me.
A fist suddenly hits the side of my face, making me hit the hard asphalt.
“We need to go!” I hear one of them yell as a foot gets me in the guts.
I curl up and moan against the sharp, unbearable pain. Then, a cough leaves my lips, and I try to get some air into my lungs, but it’s not easy. Especially when I feel a hand on my thigh moving dangerously under my skirt. The sound of a gun firing reverberates between the brick walls. Two heavy thuds and some groans are followed by a deep, wrath-filled roar that makes my aching body tremble all over.
“Hands. Off. Him.”
Luca.
I tilt my head on the ground toward his voice, trying desperately to get a glimpse of him to be sure I’m not dreaming. I feel tears filling my eyes at the sight of him striding over next to Carlo and Jeff, gun raised, murderous glare. For once, I’m so glad to see that furious expression on his face.
I hear Coppola moving away. Luca shoots, hitting his shoulder. A pistol slides on the ground at Coppola’s feet. He must have tried to use it. Without looking at me, Luca sheathes his gun moving like a fluid, predatory animal. God, the man is terrifying and extraordinary; he excites me in all the best ways.
Coppola and short guy are circling him, but he remains still, looking completely unconcerned. I know firsthand how well those mountainous muscles work. He is going to crush the moronic thugs. If not, Carlo and Jeff will, still pointing their guns on them. Short guy moves quickly behind Luca and grabs him around the neck. I see him go sailing over Luca’s shoulder in a matter of seconds.
At the same time, something shiny lands a couple of feet from me. I push myself up into a sitting position. Damn, I’m hurting all over. I look down and see Luca’s necklace lying on theground, the chain is broken, but the pendant is there. I grab both just as Carlo crouches down near me, gun still aimed ahead.