Page 68 of Lucky
Brando’s gaze meets hers, and for a brief second, his mask cracks, just enough for her to catch the regret that surges through him before she goes tumbling to the ground.
The first shot rings out.
It comes from somewhere in the distance, far enough to be a warning shot. But that is all it takes.
Everything erupts in an instant.
Screams cut through the air, the high-pitched shrieks of women mixing with the low growls of men reaching for their weapons. The familiar yet acrid scent of gunpowder fills the air.
I watch in stunned silence as bedlam breaks out. Before Scar can even react, Allegra is yanked into the protection of his body, his arms around her like a vice, her back pressed against his chest as he hurries her back into the church, even as he raises his gun from his side.
A second shot cracks through the air, followed by several more, and I go flying into the garden bed as something heavy lands on my back. My pulse hammers in my throat, panic rising in my chest as I try to lift myself off the ground.
“Stay down,” Lucky growls, even as I struggle.
The distinctpopof automatic fire echoes through the still air surrounding the chapel as the Gattis return fire on their invisible enemy.
I lift my eyes, scanning the street. Through the chaos, I see the figures—shadowed, standing so clearly on the surrounding rooftops. They’re too far to see clearly, but the glint of rifles and the flash of muzzle fire is unmistakable.
“Lucky, I need a gun,” I murmur, as I wiggle away from him.
“Stay down, Jackie.”
I clench my teeth and shoot him a glare that sears through him.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You can’t fight them offandprotect us.”
He takes one look at my angry face, weighing up if the argument is worth the effort. Obviously not, when looking down the barrel of a gun. He pulls out a firearm from a strap around his ankle and hands it to me.
“The tabernacle,” he says, lifting his eyes toward the chapel quickly. “It’s an armory. Get inside and lock the women in.”
It disturbs me that he wants me inside the safety of the church instead of fighting by his side, but it’s the only thing that makes sense right now. And what disturbs me more is that there’s a stash of weapons at the altar.
“Go!” he hisses, and I start to crawl across the grass toward the chapel door.
I stop when a flash of white lace catches my eye, laying perfectly still on the grass just beyond the stairs. I redirect and crawl toward Mia, who’s lying face down in the dirt.
“Mia,” I rasp. She stirs slowly, and I sigh internally as I turn her over and don’t see any blood on her dress.
The sound of bullets ricochetting reminds me of the urgency of the situation, and I drag Mia behind a bush where I hope she’ll be safe from stray gunfire. There’s no way I can carry her up the stairs without getting one of both of us killed.
“I need you to stay here, do you hear me?” I sit her upright against the church wall, undercover of the bush, then squeeze her hand. “Don’t try to come out until I come back for you.”
She nods her understanding, her glassy eyes resigned to the violence that has hijacked her wedding. Poor woman’s been through so much, this has become just another day in her life.
I move away from her, dropping to my stomach as I move toward the church stairs. I slip my heels off and throw them to the ground.
I see Dante as he crouches behind a nearby car, his gun raised as he assesses the area, his sharp eyes trained on the movement across the street. He raises a hand, uncurling his fingers one by one in a secret language shared only by these men with their own unique language. He lifts one finger, then the second, then a third, before our men all stand in unison and take aim, firing indiscriminately at the rooftops.
It's my opening and I make a run for the church door, under cover of the return assault. I push it, and the heavy wood door creaks open. A sharp crack echoes as a bullet slams into the side of a parked car, sending a spray of glass into the air. I realise it’s the car where Dante was standing earlier. He’s still there, standing a few feet away, shoulder to shoulder with his men as they exchange fire with the enemy.
It's then that I see it. A little flickering red light against Dante’s back. Like a laser pointer. The men are surging forward, but they have no idea what’s behind them. I look in the direction of the laser, and there, crossing the expanse of the garden is a man in fatigues, walking slowly, his gun aimed at Dante’s back.
I stand frozen to the ground, my voice catching in my throat, but it’s only momentary. I lift the gun, almost lazy in my movements, and fire, hitting the man in the chest. I watch as he falls to the ground, certain that if there’s one of him, there’ll be more to come.
The church pews blur past as I charge down the aisle, Allegra close behind, her heels clapping against the floor. I skid to a stop in front of the tabernacle, scanning the dimly lit space for the opening.
“What is it?” she asks, breathless, coming to a halt beside me.