Amanda takes another shot and then another before continuing. I’ve lost track of our much alcohol she’s actually consumed while I’ve been sitting here but if she keeps going this way then she’ll be making my job a hell of a lot easier. Heck, I’m not complaining.
“And if you think your life is going to get any easier by renouncing the Bratva and the Romanov name and shagging up with Ferrara then you are sorely mistaken. You can’t leave the Russian mafia for the Italians, Jessika. That’s not how this works. It’ll paint a bigger target on your back… on all of their backs. You think you’ll be safe with the Italians?” She looks at me over her shoulder, her eyes glossy and sad. “Baby sister, you’ll never be safe. You’ll never be free.”
I push up from my seat and away from the bar. I’ve had enough of this conversation. My hands are tingling, begging for me to hit something… anything. I came here for a fight and dammit I’m going to get one.
“That’s where you’re wrong, sister. From here on out, I make my own decisions. I’ll live my life the way I want to live it, and god help anyone who tries to tell me otherwise… including our father.”
Amanda laughs but doesn’t say anything, and that’s when I hear it. Footsteps emerging from different corners around the club and then four of our father’s soldiers are surrounding us, blocking each one of my exits. So much for this being quick, but at least I’ll get my fight after all.
“You knew I was coming all along.” It’s not a question.
Amanda stands gracefully from her seat at the bar, and if I hadn’t just seen her throwback shot after shot of tequila, I would think she was perfectly sober.
“Of course, I knew. I know everything there is to know about you, dear sister. I know when you leave the apartment, where you go, how many times that Hulk of a man fucks you, I know where he lives. I. Know. Everything,” she sneers. “I also know that you’re going to die here… tonight, and for once you won’t be daddy’s little perfect princess.”
Sisters. Gotta love ‘em. Even in all their jealousy.
“You’re mighty sure of yourself, sister,” I taunt, even while keeping track of each man as they move closer.
This is usually where people start to worry that maybe they won’t make it out alive, but here’s the thing… the only person in this room who stands a chance of taking me out is my sister. Why? Because our training exceeds the training the soldiers have gone through. They’re expendable to our father. There will always be some tough guy who thinks he has what it takes to work for the Bratva. These guys think they’re hot shit because they carry a gun, work for the Bratva, and can maybe throw a decent punch. It’s almost laughable. Whereas, father insisted that we learn a variety of fighting techniques; Krav Maga, Jujitsu, Martial Arts, you name it and I’ve trained in them.
A slow, sly grin pulls at her lips and then she dips her chin in a slight nod, which I’m assuming was the signal the men were looking for when they all rush me at once. One of them comes at me with a swinging right hook but I block it, driving my palm up and into his chin, snapping his head back before grabbing around the back of his neck with and ending it with a knee to the face. No sooner have I pushed my knife through his chest and stood up does another grab me by my throat, the momentum pushing me back. Twisting my body, I bring my elbow down on his arms, forcing him to break the contact and allowing me time to get a knee up. The sickening sound of bone-crushing echoing around the club as he falls back, holding his bloody nose. A bullet between his eyes ends his pain. The next two are harder, father must have trained them well or they had prior training before signing their lives away to the Bratva. One even manages to get a couple hits in and I know my ribs will be screaming in pain tomorrow, but that’s tomorrow. Right now, I need to focus on ending this. It’s gone on long enough.
The fighting goes on for several more minutes before all four men are lying lifeless on the stone floor of the club. The life has barely left the last man’s eyes when I feel the cold metal against my temple. Memories of Alessandro standing on the other side of the gun flash before my eyes but I will them away.
“Well that was disappointing,” she says, not caring that the men who were supposed to protect her are lying dead on the club floor. “I was hoping there’d be more blood, more screaming. You know… the usual begging for your life bullshit.”
I gingerly straighten up to my full height, one arm wrapped around my bruised ribs, the other still holding the gun at my side. She’s delusional if she thinks I’m giving up my gun.
“Drop the gun, sister.”
“No,” I seethe, trying not to wince at the pain in my ribs.
“Drop the gun, Jess, and I’ll make this as quick and painless as possible.”
“Fuck you,” I snarl, bringing my gun up and pointing it at her head. If I’m going down, I’m taking her with. Nothing says sisterly bonding than going to hell together.
The squeak of the front door opening and heavy footsteps bounding down the stairs is enough for Amanda to lower her guard and her gun for a second, and give me the opening I need to put a bullet through her chest. Her mouth falls open, eyes rounding in confusion and then shock as she glances down at the blood-soaked front of her shirt.
“Jessika!” I turn towards the sound of his voice and running footsteps, momentarily forgetting about my sister and then Alessandro comes into view, but he doesn’t immediately run towards me, he pulls up short, hand going behind his back and pulling out his gun.
My brows furrow in confusion when I hear the sound of a gun being fired but Alessandro hadn’t had time to aim, and that’s when I know that for once in our lives, Amanda and I’s thoughts were on the same page. I was never going to allow Amanda to walk out of this club alive, and she was never intending to go down alone.
I fall to my knees, my body suddenly too heavy for me to keep standing. Alessandro rushes toward me, catching me in his arms before I have a chance to faceplant on the cold floor. I hear another set of footsteps walking around the room, probably checking to make sure my sister and her minions are actually dead.
I want to tell Alessandro that I love him. That it was never a question of loyalty to my family versus loyalty to him because I would choose him over my family. I would always choose him. But the words don’t come out, and the last thing I see before everything goes black are storm-colored eyes staring down at me.
ALESSANDRO
“WAKE UP, BABY. Please wake up.” I cradle her head in my arms, praying that if there ever was a God that he’ll hear my pleading and spare her life, but the amount of blood pouring from the wound in her chest has dread flooding my veins.
“Alessandro, you need to let go so that they can help her.” Braxton places a reassuring hand on my shoulder as the paramedics try to work around me. A lot of the city is on the Famiglia’s payroll, including but not limited to paramedics, and the local police department. So it doesn’t surprise me that as soon as I hung up with him, he called in for a medic.
I woke up to find Jessika gone and her little goodbye note on the fridge and I knew instantly that she had gone to confront her sister.
I refuse to move from my spot behind her. The logical part of my brain says that it’ll be easier for them to help her if I let her go, but I can’t. Last night I had come to the conclusion that I could never let Jessika go. The knowledge that she was sent by her father to kill me couldn’t keep me from her. Did it make me want to punish her when I found out? Fuck yeah. I wanted to hurt her, to make her bleed, but I also wanted to keep her and claim her as mine. And maybe that was too caveman of me but I’ll always feel that way about Jess. She was made for me. We were both fucked up, both came from messed up pasts, both enjoyed the high of pain. She was the Harley Quinn to my Joker. She was mine. She’ll always be mine.
The two paramedics accept that they can’t get me to leave her so they allow me to help by making sure her neck is straight and doesn’t move while they load her up onto the board and snap a neck brace on her. I told them she d
idn’t need one, I caught her before she could take a nose dive but it was a precaution they had to follow, and who was I to argue. I wasn’t going to be the reason she was caused any more injuries.
I don’t stop to talk to Braxton or Stefan as I follow them out of the building and to the waiting ambulance. I know there’ll be a Famiglia meeting in my near future to discuss what went down tonight and how the fuck none of us knew that Amanda, Braxton’s ex-fiancée, was Jessika’s sister. I’d be asking Jessika that same question as soon as she woke up and I knew that she was going to be okay. She conveniently left out that little piece of information when she came clean to Braxton and Klara at my house a couple days ago.
Fuck, was that only just a couple days ago? It feels like more time has passed since then.
As soon as we get to the hospital’s emergency entrance, the paramedics rush her through but we’re told we have to wait behind in the waiting room. I want to argue with them that I’m not leaving her side for even a second, that right now I can care less about their policies. That’s my woman on that stretcher. My heart.
Christ, I loved that woman and I was going to make sure I spent the rest of my life telling her just how much.
Antonio’s hand on my arm prevents me from saying fuck you to everyone and following the paramedics through the double doors. When did he even get here? I don’t remember him being at the club, but then again I wasn’t aware of a whole lot. I heard gunshots as soon as we pried open the heavy door of the club, then I was hauling ass down the stairs only to come face to face with Jessika doubled over, Amanda bruised and blooding behind her and with a gun pointed right at Jess’s back.
My world stopped right then. Everything came to a screeching halt when Amanda raised her hand and pulled the trigger that sent a bullet flying through Jessika’s back and sent her to her knees.
The bitch didn’t stand a chance after that because I put her down fast and had barely made it over to catch Jessika before she took a nose dive on the floor. If it was up to me, I’d bring Amanda back and then made sure she died a slow, painful death for hurting what’s mine.
We’ve been in the waiting for over an hour when Klara comes rushing through the automated doors with Braxton and Stefan right behind her. When she sees me, she throws herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist in a hug. Before Klara came into Braxton’s life, I hated people touching me. But she’s grown on me and has become like a little sister. She can definitely be annoying as fuck as a little sister, especially if she’s bugging me about something – like my dating life over the last two years. I’ve come to enjoy her hugs though, almost look forward to them.
“She’s going to be okay, Alex,” Klara whispers against my chest, squeezing me a little tighter.
“I know.” I pat her back, swallowing past the burn in my throat. I will not break down in front of all these people. Especially the three men I work with.
She pulls away, her pale blue eyes glittering up at me from under wet eyelashes. I can tell she knows that I’m barely keeping it together by the small smile pulling at her bow lips but she won’t say anything. I suspect she knew how I felt about Jessika before I did… before I allowed myself to. Klara gives me another small, reassuring hug before moving over to where Braxton sits across from me, wedging herself between Braxton and Stefan.
The medical receptionist gives us all the stink eye before bowing her head and turning her focus back to the computer in front of her. It didn’t escape my notice that as soon as Braxton and Stefan entered the waiting room, the patients that were sitting close to us moved over to the other section of the waiting room. Four angry looking men in dark suits, one of them covered in blood tends to do that, but ask me if I give a flying fuck. I’m grateful they moved because if someone even so much as looks at me funny right now, I could crush some heads.
Where the fuck is the doctor? And why the hell is this taking so long? I’m no expert but it didn’t take nearly this long on the numerous occasions when Antonio had to dig bullets out of my chest and stitch me back up. My knee bounces when I glance up at the clock above Stefan’s head and notice that it’s only been about ten minutes since Braxton and crew showed up. I swear it felt like an hour or more.
Several more hours pass before I can’t take it anymore and start pacing the waiting room. If someone doesn’t come out and give me any updates, I’m going in there and will go room to room to find her.
I’m on my third trip back across the room when a woman in blue scrubs and white coat pushes through the doors they took Jessika through.
“Are you Jessika Tomlinson’s family?” she asks, looking between Braxton, Stefan, and Antonio.
“I’m her husband.” The words leave my lips before I have time to think about them. “How is she? Where is she?” I lobby one question after another at her, and the more she doesn’t answer the more my frustration levels up.
Finally, she raises a hand to stop my onslaught. “She’ll be just fine. The bullet went clean through so we didn’t have to go in and dig any pieces out. She’s lucky, a few more inches over and it would’ve hit her spine. She’s under heavy sedation so will probably be asleep for a few more hours but we’re moving her now and you’ll be able to see her soon.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Klara says when words fail me… again.
“A nurse will be out to collect you when she’s settled in her room,” the doctor says before nodding and leaving us standing in a group in the middle of the waiting room.
***
The nurse warned me not to freak out when I walked into Jessika’s hospital room, but no amount of warning could’ve prepared me for what I saw. She was hooked up to an IV line as well as an oxygen tank, however, that’s not what had my steps faltering, she looked so pale and so small. Not at all like my little spitfire. Not at all like the woman who rushed me with a combat knife, who took down four armed men – I may not have been there but I know without a doubt that she was the one responsible for the scene at the club earlier- I wanted her to open her eyes, to lash out at me again. I wanted to see those emerald eyes on fire – anger, passion, lust, love – it didn’t matter I’d take it all.
I pulled a chair up as close as it’d get to the side of her bed and that’s where I stayed, with her hand in mind, and willed her to wake up for me. I didn’t move when a nurse came in to check her IV bag, or when another came in to check her vitals and her wound. I probably should’ve, but I didn’t give a fuck, they could work around me. Yeah, I knew I was being an asshole but I wasn’t leaving my woman’s side, not even for the few seconds it took for them to do their job.
Braxton, Klara, Stefan, and Antonio left when a nurse came out to the waiting room to let us know we could come see her. They said they’d be back later tomorrow when Jessika was awake. That was okay with me, I wanted a few solid hours alone with her.
It’s another two hours before I feel her stir, and then those bright, green eyes flicker open and land on me. A slow smile spread across her face, her fingers weakly squeezing mine, and if I didn’t already know it, I would now. This woman is my heart and from here on out, I’ll do whatever I can to protect it. Even if she fights me every step of the way. God, I hope she fights me.
“Hi, Angel.”
“Is the bitch dead?” Her voice is low and rough from having just woken up but I heard it.
I laugh. “You did good, Angel.” I wipe the grin off my face with memories of the events from just hours ago. “But if you go off on your own like that again I’ll bend you over my knee and spank that round ass.”
Her eyes flutter closed, a smile still plastered on her face. “Promises, promises,” she says before the combination of sleep and meds claim her again.
This woman is going to send me to an early grave I can just see it now.
***
“I’ll tell you this, if that bitch hadn’t died I would’ve killed her myself,” I say several days later when we’re all gathered in Braxton’s home office.
Jessik
a spent two days in the hospital. I was ready to bring her home after one but her doctor insisted that she stay the extra day for observation. I would’ve been more than happy to observe her in my house, in my bed, with my cock buried in her tight pussy. That’s another thing I was told was off limits until she’s had time to heal. I’ve had blue balls from hell since I’ve moved Jessika into my house after her release from the hospital. And if she keeps walking around the house in those skimpy sleep shorts that do nothing to hide her round ass, and those tight as hell tank tops, I might say fuck it to the doc’s instructions of no sex.
Jessika wasn’t very pleased when I told her that she was now living with me. She insisted that she could take care of herself but I wasn’t having it. Which is why I told her instead of asking her. I already had Stefan move all her shit into my house while she was in the hospital and give her notice to her landlord. Okay, I admit I could’ve gone about it better but I wanted her in my house. It was going to happen sooner or later… my way just seemed like the fastest route for me to get what I want because I always get what I want.
“If I had known who she was I would’ve killed her years ago,” Braxton says. He stares straight at me and I have a feeling I know what he’s going to say before the words have a chance to leave his mouth. “I’m glad Jessika is okay, but I can’t help but think that she got what she deserved.”
Antonio sighs loudly, taking a step back like he knows what’s about to happen next.
“What she deserves?” I seethe.
“She was sent to kill you, Alessandro, to try and take me down-”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because I rush him, pinning him against the wall, my arm against his throat.
“Say that again, motherfucker.”
“Alessandro,” Antonio warns from behind me. “Don’t be an idiot. Let the Don go.”
The Don. Not Boss. Not Braxton, but the Don. It’s a deliberate move, meant to get me to realize how much I just fucked up, but at this very minute, Braxton isn’t the Don of the Famiglia. Right now, he’s my best friend and I don’t give a shit if attacking him the way I just did was wrong. Jessika might be a lot of things but she did not deserve to be used as a pawn in her father’s game. But I do what Antonio says and let Braxton go because despite how much I want to drive my fist through his face, my girl needs me at home.
Dark Betrayal (Famiglia Book 2) Page 13
