Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Vita
I glance up at Alejandro, his expression fierce.
“Those are our men.”
The moment the words finish falling from his lips, the sound of gunfire echoes in the concrete jungle.
All of us twist toward the sound as men in black balaclavas, turtlenecks, and cargo pants emerge from the far side of a delivery van.
Tres J’s and Pablo draw their weapons, returning fire.
Both Javier and Joaquin reach down to their ankles and pull out their spare handguns.
Javier gives me his while Joaquin hands the other to Alejandro. Now that we’re all armed, we move together, keeping Alejandro in the center since he’s the most likely target if it isn’t me. He’s not at his full strength, despite amazing me at how he’s hanging on.
“How many do you count?”
I wonder the same thing Pablo does. I scan our surroundings as Javier answers.
“Five by the van. But there have to be more to have gotten so many of our guys.”
I wish I could see through metal and concrete to know what’s on the other sides of the vehicles and the floors above us.
Parking all the way down here would’ve made getting Alejandro out of here less noticeable.
However, it also means our attackers can use the emptiness as their defense.
No witnesses mean they don’t have to hold back.
“There are two more near the east wall.”
I jut my gun in the direction I mentioned before shooting a man who thought he was out of sight.
We position ourselves so our backs are away from our attackers but not open to anyone ambushing us from behind.
Car windows shatter, bullets ping against metal as they hit doors and hoods and trunks.
The cacophony of noise makes it difficult to tell where our targets are and how many of them lurk.
We fight our way to one of the four SUVs that have bodies surrounding them.
There’s burning pain along the bottom of my left ribs.
I force myself to swallow the grunt as I suck my stomach in.
I know it’s just a graze, but it still hurts like a motherfucker.
However, I remind myself that Alejandro’s injuries are worse than this minor scratch.
If he can muscle through this, then so can I.
He hasn’t complained once, and neither will I.
While bullets hit vehicles in our way as we move, we’re not shooting indiscriminately, much like Alejandro and I didn’t when the two SUVs attacked us on the road. We’re all firing wide to hit as many as we can, but we’re not shooting just for the sake of wasting bullets.
“Get in on the passenger side, Vita.”
All of us sprint the last couple of feet.
Pablo jumps in the front passenger seat while Jorge goes to the driver’s side.
Joaquin opens the trunk while Javier opens the rear passenger side door.
I get in and slide across, reaching for Alejandro as his cousin helps him into the SUV.
Doors slam as Jorge turns on the ignition.
I glance over my shoulder to see Javier and Joaquin shutting the back hatch with them inside.
They pass rifles like Alejandro gave me in the town car.
I hand two to Pablo while Alejandro insists upon getting one.
Ammunition follows, and I hand that out as well.
Then Dos J’s climb from the trunk into the third-row seats.
Jorge’s got a lead foot as he peels out of the parking spot.
Drivers backed all four SUVs into their spaces, clearly prepared for the possibility we’d need to make a hurried escape just like this.
Bullets pepper the doors and windows, but it doesn’t slow Jorge.
In fact, he plows into two men, sending them flying.
There’s no way their bodies survived the impact of this tank slamming into them at fifty miles an hour.
We race through the garage and out onto the street.
I glance back periodically, watching the van follow us.
When I’m not sweeping my gaze over our surroundings, I’m watching Alejandro grow paler by the moment.
I fear what his wounds must look like. I don’t doubt he got sweat in the ones on his back while we had sex.
Now all of this jostling and running must be horrible on them, especially his leg.
I know it wasn’t burned, but it has to be sore as fuck.
I wrap my arm around his shoulder, encouraging him to lean against me.
“Alejandro, Alejandro.”
I tap his cheek when he sags against my shoulder. He’s not just tired or falling asleep. He’s dead weight from passing out. Pablo looks back at me as my fingers find Alejandro’s pulse on his neck.
“Let him rest, Vittoria. It’s the best thing for him right now. His body and mind need it, and he’ll be in absolute terror if he wakes. If it’s before we get to the safe house, knowing you’re in danger will make him lose his shit.”
“But I can defend myself. I helped all of you defend him.”
Jorge glances back at me in the rearview mirror. “What about any of the men in this family makes you think Alejandro would accept any risk to your safety? Your ability to fight is neither here nor there.”
I turn to look back at Javier when he concurs with his brother.
“None of our wives are shrinking violets. My Maddy has her own history with a syndicate that started well before she and I got together. That doesn’t mean I don’t go berserk the moment I perceive any threat to her.
It’s not that I believe she’s incapable.
I simply refuse to consider any danger to her as acceptable.
Granted, she’s just as protective of me. ”
The pride in Javier’s gaze matches what I saw in Alejandro’s when he realized just how I’d defended us. There’s seriously something not quite right about any of us when our capacity for violence and interventions is a turn-on. But that’s just how syndicate life works.
I’d rather they be with me than against me. That’s for damn sure.
We’re silent as we travel through the outskirts of NYC to Queens.
It doesn’t take long for me to recognize we’re in Jackson Heights.
I watch as we pull toward a gate that slides open immediately.
I see none of the men press any buttons, nor did they speak to anyone.
There must be guards on the lookout. We pull into another underground garage, and my heart rate spikes.
“Don’t panic, chiquita.”
I glance down at Alejandro, who is now looking up at me.
“This entire block is ours. We’re safe here.”
I nod, not entirely convinced, since the vehicles followed us all the way from Yonkers to here.
There’s no way I’m going to lower my guard until we’re safely inside a building with Alejandro surrounded by guards.
However, I breathe a little easier when the gate closes behind us, and we descend the ramp inside the garage.
When no one joins us, I’m on slightly less alert as we exit the SUV.
Joaquin and Javier help Alejandro toward an elevator.
“Chiquita, you know this is our neighborhood. We do business in the bodega on the other side of this building. When we need more privacy, we have offices upstairs. We’ll go there now. We can rest until we decide our next moves.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
My head’s suddenly pounding, and I don’t have the energy to disagree.
So, I merely nod. We arrive at the office, and it only takes one glance inside to understand this isn’t where they conduct normal work.
The sofa in here looks like it belongs in a jail cell.
The desk chair is far more appealing. It’s clear anyone sitting on that sofa is there because they majorly fucked up and they’re there to face the consequences of their poor decisions.
“Jandro, you need to lie down. You can’t do that in the desk chair, but that bench is going to be far too hard for you.”
“Chica, I’ve slept in far worse places than this. I’ll survive just fine, but I have some boo-boos you can kiss if you’re really that worried about me.”
“All right, lover boy.”
Javier teases him as he guides his cousin to sit. When he lurches sideways, Jorge rushes forward to catch him. I cock a brow as I sweep my gaze over the men as if to say, I told you so. But none of them appear any more concerned than they did when we arrived here.
“Chiquita, come sit with me.”
I oblige. He watches me approach, and I know the moment he spots the dark patch on my shirt.
“Vittoria, what is that?”
He punctuates each word as he lifts his good arm to point at my ribs.
“It’s nothing, Alejandro. I’m fine.”
“The fuck you are. That’s blood. And since you went near none of our attackers and none of us bled on you, it must be yours. Let me see.”
His cousins take what appears like a choreographed step back from us as Alejandro struggles to his feet.
His right arm shoots out far faster than I expected.
His hand fists my shirt over my chest. He might be injured and still somewhat sedated, but he’s a man with unbelievable strength.
I know he’s reining that in, but the force leaves me unable to stand my ground.
He lets go of the front of my shirt long enough to yank at the hem, lifting it high enough to see the graze over my ribs.
“Motherfucker. Why didn’t you say you were injured, Vittoria?”
“Stop calling me that.”
I practically want to stomp my foot in frustration, but I’m not a five-year-old having a tantrum. I’m an adult who doesn’t want to be treated like a child.
“This is serious.”
“I know that. You don’t need to use my full name to convey the gravity of this situation, Alejandro.”
I use a mocking tone when I state his name. We glare at each other, and it’s as though we’re back in the hotel room. It’s incredible to believe that was two days ago. It feels like a million years. His fingers are gentle as they brush the skin beside the wound.
“If you ever get hurt again and don’t tell me the moment it happens, Vita, I will bend you over my knee and spank you until my hand hurts.”