28. Diavolo
DIAVOLO
The air is ripped from my lungs at the same time the bullet pierces my chest. Heat rushes me, exploding like a firebomb has been detonated.
I stagger back, grip still tight on my pistol, fighting through the hot, sharp pain that’s trying to take me over.
In these seconds, I’m not even aware of what the fuck is happening. The world has gone mute except for the loud pounding in my ears. I grind my teeth together, the damage taking its toll and dropping me down to one knee.
But still I refuse to go down without a fight. I’m not being taking out that easily.
I raise my gun, taking aim at the motherfucker who shot at us, and I pull the trigger like he’s one of the targets at target practice.
That’s when sound comes crashing in—Portia’s scream, Maurizio’s shouting, the eruption of gunfire as chaos ensues.
“FALL BACK!” Maurizio yells. He crouches as everybody near the glass doors takes cover.
I’m still firing as I do, emptying the clip. I lurch toward a column in the nick of the time and narrowly avoid another bullet.
Instead it slices into the stone pillar and sends fragments flying everywhere. Pressing myself up against it, heaving air into my lungs, it’s the first time it truly sinks in that I’ve been shot.
My hand presses over the wound and comes away drenched in blood.
“Fuck,” I huff air out, unable to catch my breath.
It’s no wonder when my chest has been punctured by a bullet.
Portia screams and rushes over, ignoring my soldato who tries to keep her cornered behind a pillar. From the second I took the bullet for her, my men did what they knew I’d want, which was to snatch her out of the line of fire.
“Dolcezza,” I say, swallowing hard. I’m slicked with blood and sweat and even speech is becoming hard. “Stick with Maurizio. He’ll make sure you survive.”
She ignores my advice, reaching up to do something I never would’ve let her do any other time—peel the devil’s mask from my face and toss it away.
Even my men go still, clearly uncertain how I’ll react or what’ll happen next.
But Portia doesn’t care as her soft hands smooth back the damp hair from my face and she looks me in the eye.
“You don’t need it anymore,” she tells me. “You’re going to make it out of this, and I’m going to save you.”
I’m bleeding out and on the brink of losing consciousness, yet these words make me raise my brows at her. She’s said them with zero hesitation, only the determination she can muster up given the situation we’re in.
“You’re going to save me?” I repeat.
“Yes, we need to get you to a doctor now!”
Maurizio appears on my other side. He’s still half crouched over, the chaos around us becoming untenable. My men and the police are now locked in a gunfight, exchanging bullets with the glass doors shattering and debris spraying in all directions.
“She’s right,” he growls. His eyes dart toward the side exits like he’s calculating our odds. “We have to move. They’ll raid the building any moment. They’ve got numbers and the ammo.”
“Then we fight to the last round,” I grit out, the pain burning my chest. “They want war? Let them drown in it.”
“You’ll die,” Portia says, clutching at my blood-soaked shirt. “You can’t even stand without shaking. We’re not fighting our way out. We need to outsmart them.”
“And do what?” Maurizio demands. “There’s nowhere left to run.”
“There might be. The Newport sewer system. I covered a story on the city’s emergency maintenance tunnels last year—they were designed to survive a hurricane.
They’re still accessible beneath construction zones like this one.
If we can find a hatch, we can get out that way.
Surface a few blocks down. Have some of your men meet us. ”
Silence stretches on for a beat until another gunshot rings out and more chunks of debris flies around us.
“It’s worth a shot,” he says. “About the only plan we’ve got left. Adagio and some of the others can be waiting with a vehicle. But we’ve got to go now. Cover formation! Move now!”
Gunfire erupts again, hammering home the point that we really do only have a matter of minutes, maybe seconds, before NPPD forces their way into the building.
My men tighten around us like armor, returning shots with brutal precision as necessary. We make our way as a unit toward the stairwell, opting for that instead of the elevator this time around.
I stumble, the pain burning away inside my chest, making it harder and harder to do something as basic as take a breath.
Portia ducks under my arm, pressing against my side like she alone will support me. It’s an endearing gesture, even as she wilts slightly under my weight.
“Don’t argue,” she mutters when I grunt in protest. “You’ll only slow us down more if you fall.”
My mouth opens to respond, overtaken instead by a sudden cough. It rattles my lungs on its way out, more fiery pain intensifying.
I come to a stop from the force of it and quickly realize I’ve coughed up blood. Portia’s stopped at my side and seen what I do—the blood I’ve spit up.
I know her well enough to sense it upsets her, but then she blinks and eases me along. She’s realized now is not the time, and we have to get the hell out of here.
The stairwell is barely lit, and the further down we make it, the darker the space becomes. We pass the entrance to the garage and go down the corridor that leads to another emergency exit and metal accordion fence marked sewage and sanitation.
Maurizio stops, raising a fist to halt the rest of the group. He steps to a rusted utility panel and smashes the old lock with the butt of his gun.
The metal gate creaks open, revealing a steel hatch embedded in the concrete floor beneath.
“Here,” he says, crouching to pull it open. The hinge screams in protest, and a wave of dank, fetid air wafts up from the dark below. “This is it.”
I glance down, heart hammering, but still nod. “Let’s make it quick—and you.”
“I’m coming,” Portia says right away. “You’re not getting rid of me now.”
“No time to argue,” Maurizio says.
He’s right. I grind my teeth together, realizing I’m once again involving her in my world in a way that’ll only bring her trouble in the long run.
It’s not good for Portia. Her best bet is to stay behind and let the police rescue her. She can tell them all the horrible things she wants about me, then maybe move on with her life.
But as we descend into the tunnel, she’s fearlessly by my side.
We climb down the damp steel rungs as the world above goes silent. The last thing I hear before the hatch slams shut behind us is the voice of an officer screaming orders, followed by the pounding of feet in the lobby.
Portia’s hand finds mine in the dark. Together we press forward, unsure what fate will meet us on the other end.