Page 17 of Psycho Saviors

Too bad we were surrounded, and I swore as the last two men of my team were gunned down.

This wasn’t looking good at all.

7

SCARLET

Igroaned as I awoke, my head pounding like a drum.

Where was I? What happened?

“Glad you’re awake, kitten.”

No, that wasn’t possible, surely.

I blinked as I stared up at Cristian, who held me bridal style as he knelt on the ground. Where had he come from?

“Cristian?” I breathed as I let my gaze wander, my head protesting profusely. The van, it’d been hit. Were Julian and Kenny okay?

My gaze shifted, and relief swept through me as I spotted them kneeling beside us, Kenny in Julian’s arms.

Why were we kneeling?

“Everything is going to be okay, kitten. I promise,” Cristian said softly as I realized what the hell was going on.

Julian, Cristian, and a few of the SWAT guys were all lined up on their knees, helmets removed as a bunch of men surrounded us, guns drawn. My heart lurched into my throat, fear setting in once more as it dawned on me.

We were going to be executed.

I stared up at Cristian, those dark eyes focused solely on me in this moment. Why was he saying it was going to be okay? Why on earth was he of all people saying that?

“If two of the Silvestri brothers fall, Tyrone won’t be able to maintain his position as head of the family. The Silvestris will crumble.”

I turned my head to the man speaking, who looked like he’d gone a few rounds with a boxer. Wait, I did recognize him. He was the damn driver.

“As long as one of us is still alive, you Russo’s will die,” Cristian stated, finally looking away from me and to the man who’d spoken.

“You are a walking dead man, Cristian. The ghost that haunts us all,” the man said harshly. “You took a bullet once for your brothers, are you so ready to die again for them?”

“Ten times over,” Cristian said with a feral grin.

I frowned up at him, my heart threatening to burst from my ribcage as his arms tightened around me. Was he wearing a bulletproof jacket? It felt like it.

But what did the guy mean by that? He’d been shot for his brothers before? How bad?

“Good, you and your bitch can go first,” the man spat, and Cristian’s eyes narrowed.

“You don’t get to call her that, fuckface,” he hissed.

I flinched, cowering against Cristian’s chest as a gunshot boomed, deafening me. I stared up at him, fear gripping me, waiting for him to keel over.

A thud drew my gaze to the driver, where he’d collapsed forward, blood pooling around his head.

I stared, wide-eyed and silent as the Russo men all hesitated, their heads snapping around for the culprit.

Another gunshot echoed around us, and another Russo man dropped dead, a hole in his head.

It was like a fire had been lit as all the men scrambled, darting off in all directions. A few aimed their guns at us, and I knew this was the moment.