by Addison Jane
These guys weren’t fucking around, they came to do damage, and I knew from what they had done to Sophie that they didn’t believe in women being off limits.
Angelo’s fist clenched around his gun. He could try and shoot our way out of here, but Tobia was armed as well, and it would only take one shot to hit its target. If Angelo went down, there was no way we were walking out of here alive.
Shit had just gotten real.
“Emerson, go,” Angelo ordered, his eyes staying glued to Tobia and his goons.
Tobia shook his head. “Nope. Sorry friend, she stays.” He fiddled with the cuffs of his suit jacket and then adjusted his tie. “I want her to see this. You see, what I’ve come to realize, is sometimes torture is more than just hurting people physically. Sure, I could take a blade to her body, break her bones, scar her for life. But it’s the mental scars that really get to someone. It’s getting inside their head and allowing them to drive themselves to the brink of insanity or death that’s the most intense torture of all.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you have fucking mental problems?” Angelo asked sarcastically, but I could see the way his muscles were tensed, he was ready to leap into action.
Tobia laughed, the sound echoing in the night air. “I’m going to enjoy this. Breaking the great Angelo Moretti will make me a god amongst men.” In a flash, the humor was gone, and he narrowed his gaze, and he licked his lips as though he was about to devour a delicious meal.
And we were on the menu.
“Let’s play.”
Angelo didn’t falter.
He raised his gun, firing off two shots before wrapping his body around mine and basically carrying me toward the bedroom. Glass crunched under his feet as we ducked behind the thick pillar as a flurry of bullets rushed past us. Angelo dropped me, and I fell to my knees, pain shooting through my body instantly as I tumbled onto shards of glass.
“Get him!” Tobia roared.
There was nothing to protect us, Angelo’s home was so open that there was nowhere to run.
Everything moved in a blur, a loud roar that sounded like a warrior running into battle stopped my heart for a moment. The heavy chain that one of the men had been carrying came swinging against the pillar, the steel sending pieces of concrete flying around me.
Angelo moved like a trained fighter, his left arm coming up to protect his face. At the same time, he grabbed the chain and used it to pull himself toward the other man, forcing him to step out from the protective wall. As he was drawn almost chest to chest with the furious monster of a man, Angelo raised his gun, the barrel pressed against his forehead.
I saw the moment the offender realized he’d made a mistake, it was only a millisecond, a flash of fear and regret passing over his face, as Angelo pulled the trigger at point-blank range.
I screamed, watching the bullet pierce his skin in what seemed like slow motion, then watching blood and brain tissue flying out the back as the bullet exited its victim.
Movement caught me off guard, and I turned just in time to duck the baseball bat that was aimed at my head. I threw my body to the ground, covering my head. The bat clanged against the concrete pillar, but before I could find my bearings there was a hand in my hair.
I could hear gunshots being fired, but I couldn’t tell whether they were coming from Angelo or Tobia. As the man took a fist full of my hair, I cried out in pain, and he began to drag me out and along the wooden floor. I kicked my legs, and my hands desperately searched for something to grab onto, but all I could feel was broken glass tearing against my body and hands.
With no other options, I snatched a large piece in my hand, my body in such shock that I didn’t even realize it had pierced my skin until I looked down and saw blood instantly swelling in my palm.
I could hear people yelling, deep voices, heavy objects slamming against things, but it was all background noise.
I couldn’t understand what was going on.
Angelo.
They’re going to hurt him.
They’re going to use me to get to him.
No.
With my free hand, I grabbed the man’s wrist where he had a hold of my hair. I could feel the roots tearing from my scalp, but I didn’t care. This was fight or die. I dug my nails into his arm, just like I’d done to Angelo that day in the gym. I could feel them pierce his skin and he stopped walking.
“Fucking bitch!”
I took those brief seconds we were still to scramble onto my knees and twist my body, so I was facing him, drawing my arm back and using every ounce of power I had to drive the large shard of glass into his thigh.
The roar that came from him was almost deafening. He instantly released me and I pulled away, leaving the large piece of glass sticking out of his leg.
“You stupid fucking whore,” he screamed as I slid backward, trying to put as much distance between the two of us as possible, and at the same time, searching for another weapon.
He lifted his bat, pulling it back as he stumbled toward me, blood already streaming from the wound. I covered my head with my arm as he swung, the bat connecting with my elbow before hitting the back of my head with enough force to throw my body forward, my face hitting the wood.
Pain radiated through me as I lay there, my cheek pressed against the cold floor, waiting for more pain to follow.
Thump.
My head hurt.
I didn’t want to move, but I knew if I stayed there… I would probably die.
Pressing my palm against the floor, I tried to push up. I slipped, falling back down. I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t find any friction, it was like someone had left water on the ground. Holding my hand up in front of my face, I stared at it in confusion.
It was red.
Dripping.
Running down my arm.
Narrowing my eyes, I fought to get them to focus. My head was pounding so hard I could feel it vibrating through my body. Looking past my hand, a dark figure was lying only a few feet away, his baseball bat still in his hand but his body limp and unmoving.
The glass was gone from his leg, but blood was still pumping out at an accelerated rate, running over the floor.
Oh, God.
The sounds of flesh against flesh and men grunting had me forcing my body onto my knees.
Find Angelo.
Everything felt foggy, but I was able to make out two figures tangled together in a flurry of fists, one of them with a heavy wrench in his hand. I stumbled to my feet, my body wavering to the edge and colliding with a side table which sent a vase of flowers flying. Catching myself, I looked up just in time to see Angelo take a shot to the stomach with the heavy weapon.
He stumbled backward, and my heart leaped into my throat.
I spun, searching for something, fucking anything that I could use to help.
The bat.
It was slick with blood, but I didn’t care. I reached for it, crying out in pain and drawing my arm back to my body. My elbow was screaming out in agony, possibly broken from where the fucking brute had struck me.
Grabbing the bat with my good arm, I climbed over the body on the floor and dragged my body toward the door. The room was still spinning, but I knew I needed to get to Angelo, to at least make the battle he was fighting somewhat even.
They were closer now, both huffing, blood covering their faces.
The attacker swung the wrench and Angelo ducked, the man stumbled, being pulled by the weight of his weapon and Angelo used that moment to throw his fist upward into his jaw.
The man was dazed.
That was my moment.
“Angelo,” I cried, pulling his attention to me.
The second his eyes found me, I used what little strength I had left to toss the bat toward him. The throw was dreadful, but he leaped a couple of steps and managed to catch it in his hand. He didn’t waste a second, as the man shook his head trying to gain his bearings after the epic blow.
Angelo pulled the bat back.
> He swung.
I could tell in that second he wasn’t looking to injure, he was going to finish this fight.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my legs giving way from underneath me at the same moment I heard the sound of the metal bat connecting with a hard skull.
I couldn’t describe that sound.
It was something I’d never heard before, and I wished that I would never hear again.
The crunch, the weightless thump of a body hitting the floor.
I groaned, my entire body going limp. Adrenaline had kept me going, kept me fighting, but I could feel my body sinking and the pain of my injuries taking over. My breathing was heavy and labored, each intake of air seemed more painful, my head feeling like it was about to explode all over Angelo’s beautiful wooden floors.
Not that it mattered now, the house was destroyed.
Blood, bodies, shattered glass, all spread throughout the once beautiful space.
“Emerson!” Angelo’s voice moved straight through me, causing tears to instantly spring to my eyes.
Another body filled my gaze, standing inside the entrance way. “Holy shit,” Samuele cursed, leaping over the other man’s body and dropping to his knees in front of me. “Emerson, where are you hurt? I need to stop the bleeding.”
I licked my lips, trying to find the words even as my brain seemed to be complete mush. “Not mine.”
His shoulders sagged, and he exhaled sharply.
“He hit my head,” I told him, already feeling the tears burning in my throat. “And elbow. Feeling lightheaded.” The room was spinning around me.
“No,” Angelo’s pained voice caused me to draw in a harsh sob as I finally felt myself falling apart.
“She’s okay boss, just a hit to the head,” Samuele said calmly as Angelo dropped to his knees beside my head, his hand reaching out and brushing across my cheek. I fought to lift my gaze, finally able to find his eyes.
The pain that I saw in them at that moment was something I hoped to hell I never saw again in my life. It was like seeing his heartbreak bleed out in front of me. Watching a man as strong as Angelo look so broken, was a stark reminder that he wasn’t invincible like he so often seemed.
“We need to get her to the hospital,” Samuele informed him. “She could have a concussion.”
“We’ll take her to Anthony’s. I’ll get him to call his doctor,” Angelo replied, shaking his head.
“I’ll bring the car around and meet you downstairs,” another voice in the apartment said. Carlos, I think.
“Mi dispiace,” Angelo whispered, his voice hoarse and raw.
The pain in my head was becoming stronger and my tears clouded my vision, but I could tell Angelo was cradling his stomach, and there was blood dripping down his face.
“You’re hurt,” I whispered, trying to raise my hand to wipe my eyes so I could see him better.
“I’ll be fine,” he answered, clearing his throat. “You’re gonna have to carry her, Sam. I don’t want to risk dropping her.”
Samuele nodded, scooting closer and tucking his arms under my body bridal style. My body cried out in pain, and I tried to breathe slowly in and out through my nose, reminding myself that we were still alive.
“Tobia?” I asked as Samuele settled me in his arms.
A deep growl resonated in Angelo’s throat. “Still alive…” he paused for a second before adding, “… but not for fucking long.”
Even through the cloud in my brain, I could hear the finality in his voice.
This attack was it. They’d come here after us, and this time we’d won the battle. It was one that was never in our odds, and I couldn’t understand how we were walking away still breathing.
This war though, it had gone on too long, and it needed to be put to bed.
The score was one all, and we were about to face the decider.
I had four bodies scattered through my now completely destroyed apartment, and not one of them belonged to a Bellucci. Absolute fury was all I felt as I sat in one of Anthony’s guest bedrooms watching a nurse clean the glass from Emerson’s skin. Her knees and hands had been sliced and pricked, she had a mild concussion, and a dislocated elbow that the doctor had to pop back in, while I listened to Emerson cry and tried my best not to punch him in the face.
If it weren’t for the DePalma’s pull in this city, I’d be at the hospital with a lot of police officers right now, facing questions I couldn’t answer. Fortunately, Anthony had a doctor on call to deal with situations like this. He wasn’t a stranger to the DePalma residence, especially given that Gio was a fighter and while he was the best there was, he often needed to be patched up after a fight.
“How are you feeling?” Doctor Ford asked Emerson while his wife, the nurse, continued to clean out her wounds.
“Better,” Emerson replied, forcing a weak smile.
“Don’t tell him you’re okay if you’re not,” I scolded.
Her nose crinkled, but she kept her eyes on the doctor. “Seriously, I’m okay. I can feel the pain killers working, so thank you for that.”
Doctor Ford nodded, scribbling a few notes on his pad. “You’re lucky the blow wasn’t any harder. I’d say someone was watching out for you tonight.” I didn’t miss the way her eyes moved skyward, and I knew exactly who she was thinking about. “The rest of your injuries are mostly superficial, there should be very little scaring, but I will need to come back to check the wound on your hand to make sure it’s healing properly without stitches. Your elbow should feel better tomorrow, but it will still be sore, you’ll need to try and keep it in a sling for a couple of weeks.”
She was lucky all right, the dislocation had only been partial, so there was no major damage done.
Emerson gave him a tight smile. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”
Anthony stepped inside the room as the doctor and his wife had packed up the last of their things. “One of my men is waiting for you by the door, thank you for coming,” he told them simply, and they dipped their heads as they hustled out of the room, feeling the tension that was growing.
I pushed out of my chair, ignoring the way my ribs screamed in protest.
“You want to tell me what the hell happened tonight?” he demanded, closing the door behind him.
I’d yet to inform Anthony of what went down, my main priority—getting help for Emerson. I knew that had pissed him off, and I had the feeling that I was about to feel every fucking drop of his anger at full force. I’d made it out alive, but the night was still young, and Anthony had me in his sights.
I explained to him the situation and what had transpired, leaving out the small detail about how I’d been fucking his niece only minutes before the assholes appeared. Unfortunately for me, this man wasn’t stupid.
“How the fuck did Tobia get away?” he snapped, his eyes burning holes in my head.
I scoffed. “Tobia is a coward. The moment he realized he wasn’t on the winning team, he took off the way he came in. I couldn’t follow him while I had a sledgehammer flying at my head.”
“I killed someone,” Emerson whispered suddenly, drawing a dark silence over the room. “I stabbed him in the leg and he bled out.” She looked down at her hands, the blood had been washed away, but she was right. She’d killed a man, a man who was ready to do the same thing to her.
I walked over to the side of the bed, brushing the hair back from her face and hooking my finger underneath her chin.
This woman was a fucking warrior.
Last time she’d seen Tobia, she’d frozen, unable to do anything, unable to fight back and try to save her sister’s life. This time, she’d done whatever she had to do to make sure she came out on top. She fought back, and she fucking won.
Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at me. She was in shock, I could tell that this was going to have a huge impact on her. Most people would go their whole lives without doing what she’d done tonight. Most people would never have to face the fact that they were responsible for taking a li
fe and forcing someone else from this world and into that of another.
I scanned her face, waiting for a sign that told me she was going to break down. A part of me felt like this could have been the deciding factor, the one thing that would either pull us together or tear us apart.
Death was something that I’d made my peace with a long time ago. Whether it be my life or that of another, death was something that I had accepted as a way of life.
Kill or be killed.
Her eyes stared back up at me, and I inhaled a deep breath of relief as I realized I couldn’t see any guilt within her gaze. “You did what you had to do in order to survive. If you hadn’t have stabbed him, and he’d been able to put full force behind that bat, there’s no way in hell you would have been alive to speak about it.”
These men had been there to hurt us, we’d both heard Tobia’s words.
He wanted to torment and torture Emerson.
“My office,” Anthony ordered from behind me. “Now.”
“Uncle Anthony…” Emerson spoke up, earning his attention as he was half turned toward the door. “Please send him back in one piece. I’ve become kind of fond of him.”
He didn’t acknowledge her comment, his body stilling for a few seconds before ducking out the door. His heavy footsteps left the room, stomping off down the hallway. He was angry—understatement—he was enraged. I steeled my spine and stood to full height knowing Anthony was going to have a problem. He could decide right now that he wasn’t going to accept the fact that I was falling in love with Emerson, his niece, someone who his brother had fought for a long time to keep away from this life. I may have escaped death tonight, but I could be facing the firing squad right now.
It was time to either walk away for good or stand strong and tell him I didn’t give a fuck and I was having her.
I knew which it was going to be.
A soft hand slipped into mine and I looked down to see Emerson looking up at me with tears in her eyes. “I don’t want to be here alone,” she whispered, her voice was almost gone. It was husky and soft and sexy as fucking hell.
“That’s what I’m here for,” Andre said, stepping into the room. He tried to force a smile for Emerson’s sake, but as soon as he looked at me, I saw the deadly mask fall across his eyes. Andre always did other work for me on a Saturday night, checking up on distributors and picking up profits. The kid was my most trusted man and with business normally booming, he was on his way to getting his own men.
