12. ~ Chapter Twelve ~
~ Chapter Twelve ~
T revor
I checked my gun, then checked the time, feeling like something was going to go down any minute.
“I think-” Before I could even finish that statement, I heard shouts and then gun shots. “Fuck,” I roared, jumping out of the car, gun in hand, and running towards the building.
“Trevor!” But I didn’t look back, didn’t have time to think. Not with her in there.
But I stopped straight in the middle of the road as Lucia ran out, her gun at her side.
“Let’s go!” she cried out, finally pushing me into action. I turned right around and jumped back into the car, only hitting the gas pedal when she was in. “Well, that didn’t quite go as planned,” she muttered, taking the gun her dad offered.
“Dare I even ask?” I glanced back at her before looking in the rearview mirror, easily seeing cars behind us. “We got lots of company. What did you tell them?”
“Jokes, Doyle?”
“Yes, Russo. Because, why not?” I rolled my eyes at my father-in-law as I made a sharp right.
Of course, we had a game plan set in motion because we knew, without a doubt, that this would be the outcome. Sure, the plan was to get close enough to the man but not kill him. Just let him know he couldn’t fight two families and expect to win. That this was not the city to come into and try to take over.
I was going to go out on a limb and say he didn’t like that comment too much.
“Did you shoot him?”
“Not as badly as I wanted to. But the moment I had the gun exposed and fired, well, let’s just say men were racing in. I did get him in the shoulder though,” she offered. “He won’t be shooting for a while.”
I smiled at that, rather proud of her. She just showed up her dad because he thought she couldn’t pull it off. Hell, she probably did better than any man did because men would want their ego in their way, but not her, not a woman. See, for the Italian men, women were highly undervalued for this kind of job.
“Lucia, you are far too reckless. I think you-” but he was quickly cut off as she screamed just as the back window shattered.
“This is the second car they’ve destroyed of mine! Get out the window Russo and shoot back! It seems we’re having an issue with our men coming to our aid.” I gave him a nasty side eye, almost laughing at the glare he returned.
“Don’t push your luck, Doyle.” With that, I maneuvered the car so he could lean out slightly, cussing a shit storm in Italian and finally laid down some rounds. “That felt good. I haven’t been in a fight in a long time.” I glanced over at him as he reloaded his gun. “Keep the car straight this time.”
“I can only try. I am trying to dodge bullets too, here.”
“Yeah well-”
“Look out!” Lucia cried, interrupting her dad.
Lucia
I cringed as I saw the car swerve our way and had to yell to get Trevor’s attention. He slammed on the gas, making the car crash into the one behind us.
I was over these assholes.
I should have been planning a honeymoon, or something, instead of planning a way to get into their facility to tell their egotistical boss to get the hell out of town. Though, it did make me laugh because it made me feel like I was in some western town or something.
I opened my window, leaning out enough to take aim and shoot at the car that was coming up. I took out their tire, noticing that another car behind it had to slow down to avoid hitting it as it flipped.
“Take a left, Trevor,” I yelled.
“But our men aren’t there.”
“Dad, call them. Take us to the Bridge. There, we can have a damn showdown if these assholes want it and they can understand, fully, the wrath they are up against.”
“I do like that plan,” my dad muttered, easily calling his men to issue the new orders. Right after him, Trevor got on the phone, placing his own order. I glanced behind us again, this time only seeing one car.
I leaned back out the window, taking aim at the side of the car. I didn’t want to destroy it, but I did need to let them know just who the hell they were messing with and why it wouldn’t work.
Ten minutes later, we were pulling up alongside multiple cars and we all climbed out, guns ready to fire. I crossed my arms, standing between my husband and my dad, as Chung Lee stepped out of his own car, holding his injured shoulder.
“It’s a damn shame to see the cross breeding of families. You think this little army you have will stop me?”
“This,” I said, waving to the crowd behind us. “Is not all of our army. This is just a small fraction.”
“You let a woman speak for you, Doyle?”
“Her, yes! Any day of the week. Because of anyone you let walk into your office and get close to you, it was a beautiful woman. You knew who she was, but you didn’t shy away from seeking what she was offering, right?”
I glanced behind me, shooting my husband a wink.
“I will defeat you,” Lee roared, trying to lift his arm, but unable to.
I fired a few shots, barely missing his foot. “Oh, shit, did I do that to you? My bad. Sorry!” I walked closer, my gun steady as I aimed it at him. “Let me remind you of something, Lee. This is my city, our city. You might have forced us to band together, and that’s fine, but the next generation to oversee it will be far more powerful than we are.
“So, climb in your car, and get your skanky, sleazy ass out of my fucking city. Because Atalanta belongs to us, to these two families. It has for years, and it will stay that fucking way. Because any of us will die to keep it that way.”