Page 119 of Never Say Never

"Maybe you should have left the crazy ones at home," Harlow said.

A man with bright pink hair and light brown skin came barreling toward Harlow. He got the jump on Benito’s husband, picking Harlow up to his dismay.

“Who’s that?” I asked. And why in the fuck wasn’t Benito killing him?

The man put Harlow down; he was a few inches taller than both of them. Benito knocked knuckles with the man who was smiling, while fixing brass knuckles on. I recognized the crazy in his eyes, it was the same in all of ours.

“Quincy Adachi, he's Harlow’s best friend,” Enzo said.

Nodding, I watched them for a minute, but they switched languages, leaving me lost. I pushed off the car and headed toward Gin. I needed to get my head in the game even as the hurt weighed down on me.

"What's up with him?" Cian asked. He looked between Gin and me. "Holy shit, there are two of you."

Gin grinned. "Yeah, but you can tell us apart. Paolo is a bat man where I'm a one hammer kind of guy. And he’s more polyamorous, where I’m monogamous."

Both guys admired Gin's hammer as he talked about Silvy. I tried to stay engaged but it didn't last long as my emotions continued to ride me. They had no place in this war, but regardless of what York said, my humanity made it impossible to brush off the hurt.

"Leave one or two of the guys alive," Benito instructed.

"How alive are we talking?" Cian asked.

"Enough to talk. We have a few men who can get even the hardest people to spill their guts." Benito took charge, stepping forward like the leader he'd been brought up to be. I'd follow my brother into the jaws of hell and fully believe we'd rule it by the end of the war.

One of our men brought a bat to me. It was different from the last. The handle fit against my palm nicely. Holding onto the bat gave me something to do with my hands. Now, I just needed to bash a few skulls in and I'd feel even better.

We split up. Benito and Harlow lead one group. Enzo and the O'Brians were together. The Felleci's lead one, Bianchi's lead another, and I was with Gin attacking from the left. My blood was pumping and there was static in my ears. The night air was brisk the closer we got to winter. Some days were colder than others, promising a bitter season. Hopefully by then, the war would be done.

The first two men we saw walking around, I didn't bother waiting. I charged. They saw me coming, guns out as they aimed for my head.

"Paolo," Gin called for me, but I was gone.

My head was a mess. I went to the two with my bat. A few bullets whizzed by, burning through, nearly missing my skin. The thrill would usually excite me but I was stuck with two emotions: hurt and anger. Blood splattered, smacking me in the face as I swung my bat with reckless abandonment. I didn't care who came at me or how many I took down.

Moving forward was all that I cared about.

With these fuckers gone, York would have to stay home. York being home meant I had time to fix us. I'd figure it out; I had no choice. I cracked a skull as more bullets whizzed through the air. I vaguely heard Gin, but again, I paid no attention. I was forced to pull my gun out a few times, but swinging the bat was what I needed.

I was so out of it, I hadn’t even bothered to name her.

The smell of blood and gunpowder filled the air to the point it felt like it clung to me like cigarette smoke. I'd get home and York would know if I didn't get changed beforehand. He'd take one sniff of me and the look would be back, the one that screamed I was a man without an ounce of humanity.

I lost myself in the carnage and mayhem, letting it wash over me and draw out the turmoil that plagued my being. Everything became a blur as we stormed the hideout, wiping out any enemy that stepped in our way.

"Fuck, Paolo calm down," Gin ordered.

I sucked in a lungful of air. It felt like I'd been drowning, moving without thinking, and killing anyone that came my way. Blood dripped from my lashes. I was so coated, it felt like a second skin. There was faint pain on my side and back leg but nothing that was beating the static that hummed in my head.

Gin snapped his fingers in front of my face. He was just as bloody as me.

"You good?"

No. But where did I start? Everything was wrong and right at the same time. Just when it felt like I was getting York back, reality slammed into me and took him away again. I couldn't bear not having him. I'd meant it when I claimed him as mine. I'd lose what little sanity I had left without York.

"We done here?" Gin asked.

There was confirmation after a few minutes. My bat was gone and my knuckles were shredded. Looking down at them, the pain started to trickle in a little more. I flexed my fingers, stretching and pulling at the raw skin.

"Hey!" Gin knocked his head into mine, breaking the constant hum up.