Page 9 of Damaged & Deadly
We spend the next few hours devising a plan and gearing up. Tank, Rampage, and Bones all insisted on tagging along. The shadows in Bones’ eyes had me instantly agreeing, and I could see the shame and remorse on Tank and Rampage’s faces. Not that any of this is their fault. They did their best in what I’m sure was a stressful situation. They couldn’t have known it was all a diversion. But I completely understand their need to make up for yesterday. To not feel so fucking useless. So I readily agreed to let them help, and when we’re ready, the five of us pile into one of the Cadillacs out front.
None of us feel the need to pass the time with chit-chat, each of us is lost in our own thoughts as we head across town. Oliver pulls up several blocks down from the bakery that we know is anything but. The Bastards use the space for packaging up their merchandise before handing it off to their sellers, who pedal it on the street for them.
Climbing out of the car, I fix my skeleton neck warmer over my mouth, and with weapons at the ready, I meet the others’ steady gazes. With a confirming nod, we move down the street. The closer we get, I realize the large shop-front windows have been whitewashed, preventing anyone from looking in. Same with the bit of glass in the front door, and when we’re close enough, I scan the exterior of the building for any cameras or alarms. Thankfully, Grim is pretty old school with this shit, preferring to have men on watch, rather than relying on cameras. More fool him, since whatever lackey was supposed to be at the door clearly isn’t doing his job, meaning the men inside have no fucking idea that we’re coming for them.
When we reach the building, I signal for Tank and Bones to go around back while I approach the front entrance, with Oliver and Rampage behind me. With a ready gun in my hand, I lift my foot and kick in the door, easily breaking the lock. It bangs into the wall, alerting everyone to our intrusion.
The men inside all jump to their feet, but my gun goes off before they’ve even had a chance to register what the fuck is going on. The echo of gunfire is repeated as Oliver and Rampage flank me, and a moment later there is another bang as the back door bursts open. I’m aware that Tank and Bones have joined the shootout, but I’m too focused on killing the Bastards in front of me—ideally without receiving a bullet in kind—to spare them any attention.My ears ring with the hail of gunfire. Blood is everywhere, coating every surface and mixing with what looks like bags of cocaine they were cutting up.
It’s not until we’re the only ones left standing and silence presses in around me that the room comes back into focus. With my heart hammering in my chest and adrenaline making me feel wired, I slowly lower the gun in my hand. Blood squelches beneath my boots as I step toward the closest dead guy. Dipping my finger in the blood leaking from the bullet wound in his chest, I move to the wall, and with my finger, I spell out RR. Just in case Grim’s confused about who messed with him today.
“One down, two more to go,” I state triumphantly, grinning savagely at the wall before striding out the door and leaving the bloodbath behind me.
Chapter 4
I stride into the kitchen with my head held high, ignoring the delicious throb between my thighs and the riot of emotions making me feel unsteady and out of my depth. Enzo catches my eye, a smirk curling at his lips. “Fun night?”
“Shut up,” I snark, fighting the blush that threatens to rise in my cheeks. I’m not a fucking blusher. These assholes are messing with my badass bitch persona. If I’m not careful, I’ll become a fucking mafia princess.No, thank you.
Grabbing the coffee pot, I fill a mug and move to sit opposite him at the kitchen table, the easy banter falling away as the seriousness of my situation again takes control. “Did you find anything?”
Before he can respond, Dante enters the room behind me. I don’t even need to look over my shoulder to know. I can tell by the tension that bubbles in the air, making it seem heavier, like it’s suddenly harder to breathe. Fuck, I have no idea how to handle all of this. My muscles tense, my shoulders bunching together as Enzo glances in his direction. Something dark flashes in his eyes and he lifts his chin as though in challenge. Of what, I’m not sure.
I wait for them to get over whatever the fuck their problem is, and when Enzo’s gaze finally swings back to me, I cock a brow. “He’s at the tower, where Giovanni lives.”
“He’s staying with Giovanni?” I clarify. Definitely not where I was picturing my brother. Think more dark, dreary cell. That’s where my thoughts had gone to every time I tried to picture him.
“Probably not in his penthouse, no.” With his mug in hand, Dante moves to join us at the table. I get my first look at him since I left the bedroom, and I notice he’s since gotten dressed in his usual attire: a shirt, black suit pants, and matching shiny shoes. He’s even got a fancy-looking watch on his wrist, and his new, white gold wedding band glitters in the light. Everything about him screams wealth and danger, and sexy as hell. “Most of the apartments are empty.” He deliberately trails his hand down my arm as he moves to sit beside me. “He could be keeping him anywhere in the building,mia vita.”
I shiver, even though I don’t understand the meaning of his words. However, the deep, husky quality of his voice says everything about the intention behind them. And no, it’s not stated in a sweet, term of endearment sort of way. More of a,you’re mine, and you always will bekinda thing. He’s essentially pissing on me with sexy Italian words.
Enzo clearly understands the meaning of his words as his eyes widen slightly, and he tears his gaze away from where Dante’s body is pressed up against mine—which is down my right side, all the way from my shoulder to my feet. There literally isn’t an inch of space.
Images of last night flicker unbidden across my mind, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek. Fuck. I’m seriously screwed. I didn’t want to cave to him. I mean, I did. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to betray Cain and Oliver, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He knew exactly what buttons to push; he played me like a fiddle until I fell apart, again and again, and again. Until I barely knew my own name, let alone had the brain power to think about how wrong it was.
Even just the tiny slither of contact between us now has my skin burning, my heart racing, and my core clenching. This is not good. This issonot good.Head out of the gutter, Sawyer! You have far more pressing concerns to deal with.
Pushing past the desire slowly unfurling inside me, I instead focus on Luc, and when I’m confident neither of them can get a read on anything I don’t want them to see, I lift my gaze, spearing both of them with a deadly serious look. “So, how do we get him out, then?”
“Wedon’t,” Dante is quick to respond.
Annoyingly, Enzo just looks amused. His eyes practically sparkle as he watches my fuse get shorter and shorter.
“We don’t do anything until tonight. We need to find out what my father’s plan is, and how Luc factors into it all.”
I smack my hand against the table. “Luc shouldn’t be a factorat all. Do you have any idea what I’ve sacrificed, what I’ve done, to keep him away from this sort of life?”
“Dante’s not suggesting we leave him there,” Enzo reassures. He pushes his hand across the table so that his fingers brush over mine, instantly taking the wind out of my sails, even if Dante does glare daggers at the point where we touch. “Just that we don’t make any rash decisions. Giovanni will be anticipating that. We need to go in there tonight with a clear head and get a full grasp of the situation. Only then can we make any moves to get Luc out of there without putting him in any more danger.”
Pursing my lips, I suck in a deep breath, calming myself down. I know he’s right; I just hate the thought of leaving him there longer than he needs to be. Only once I’ve emptied my lungs of all oxygen do I respond. “Fine. But I’m not leaving him in there any longer than necessary.”
Enzo gives me a small, understanding smile. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”
“You can stop touching mywifenow,” Dante snarls, showing us where his head is clearly at. Fucking possessive neanderthal. I roll my eyes while Enzo leans back in his seat, looking far too smug for his own good.
Ignoring their idiocy, I push to my feet. Rolling my shoulders back, I snipe, “Well, if you both expect me to just sit around here all day, I’m going to need access to a gym.”
“Didn’t get enough of a workout last night, huh?”