Vinny #2
Sanguine blood spewed out from his nostril, spraying down my nice white shirt as I let go of him, allowing him to crumple to the ground as I grabbed his recently abandoned gun.
When I looked around and tried to reassess the situation, I noticed both men scrambling to reach Violet, which absolutely wasn’t going to happen, not under my watch.
I raised the gun and fired toward the ground once. The shot shattered tile inches in front of the first man’s foot, sending shards skittering. He skidded to a stop with a startled shout, hands flying up.
The second didn’t slow.
So I closed the distance instead.
I crossed the floor in three strides and slammed into him from the side, driving him away from Violet and into a display of bassinets.
The metal frame collapsed under our combined weight.
He tried to hit me; I blocked it and drove my elbow into his throat, cutting off the sound before it could turn into a scream.
I tried to grab him by the throat, but white hot pain pierced my shoulder.
For half a second, my brain refused to process it.
Then the burn spread down my arm, and the gunshot still echoing in the room fully registered. One of those stupid fuckers shot me, but it didn’t matter. Those fuckers would be dead soon enough.
I turned, vision narrowing, blood slick down my arm, and saw the third man scrambling towards the door, gun still raised. His eyes were wild as he shook so hard he nearly dropped his firearm.
The one he used to shoot me.
My teeth gnashed as rage roared in my ears and I started toward him. No one shot Vincent fucking Rossi and got away with it. The Stellar’s and their men were a plague on this world, and I would be doing humanity a service if I got rid of one, or two, or all of them.
My good arm raised, gun in hand, ready to prove to this snot nosed punk what a real alpha could do, then a hand looped around my arm.
I jerked around, fully ready to pistol whip whoever the fuck decided to touch me, then I noticed Violet.
Brown eyes wide, hands trembling.
“What?” I snapped, far louder than she deserved.
Violet’s bottom lip quivered as I yanked myself away from her, but she slowly shook her head no.
For a moment, I was angry. Who the hell was she to stop me from doing my job?
My chest heaved as the world narrowed down to the man who shot me. I could already see how easy it would be, one shot and the world would have one less problem.
Then, Violet had the nerve to grab me again.
I sneered down at her only for her to whimper a pathetic, raspy “Please,” and stop me dead in my tracks.
As far as I knew, Violet couldn’t speak yet, and maybe that was why the word cut through all the noise in my skull.
She stepped closer, not at all caring about the danger or the blood soaking through my sleeve, and wrapped both her hands around my forearm. Her grip wasn’t strong, but it was enough to stop me dead in my tracks.
I stopped to take a proper look at her. The tears pooling in her eyes, the way her shoulders were rounded, the way she watched me as if I were about to kill someone for the first time–and while it wasn’t my first murder, far from it–it would be the first time Violet saw me do it.
The bastard who shot me laughed weakly, and that was almost enough for me to do it, then Violet squeezed my arm again, just a little tighter, and shook her head one last time.
I exhaled and lowered the gun.
The relief on her face hit me harder than the bullet had.
Sirens wailed outside as lights flashed through the broken storefront, painting the wreckage vibrant reds and blues, and before I could process what was going on, boots hit the ground and yelling followed.
“Police! Drop the weapon!”
“Hands up! Now!”
I let the gun fall from my fingers and held my breath, glad I was no longer pointing it at someone. The police in this town were more of the shoot first ask questions later type, and while I wasn’t afraid of the cops, getting arrested for a little would have likely ruined the day.
Violet moved from holding my arm to flat out hugging me as she hid her face in my chest, now sobbing.
“I’m okay,” I murmured. A lie. But a necessary one.
She nodded like she didn’t quite believe me but needed to agree.
Her fingers twisted into my shirt, her knuckles blanching as she held onto me for dear life. I wrapped my good arm around her on instinct, anchoring her there despite the way my shoulder screamed in protest.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured, low enough that only she could hear it. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Hands grabbed my arm and someone cut my sleeve away and pressed gauze to the wound. I hissed but Violet didn’t pull back, If anything, she clung harder.
“She’s with me,” I warned, looking back at the paramedic. “She stays with me.”
They hesitated before motioning for another medic to join them.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” the second medic said as they brought a blanket for Violet and draped it around her shoulders despite the fact it wasn’t cold, “you’re safe now.”
Violet lifted her head just enough to look at me as if she was waiting for me to confirm or deny this claim, so I nodded.
Then, to really seal the deal, I used one hand to finger spell safe.
Her lips trembled, but she nodded back, breathing uneven, and finally loosened her grip just enough to let them do their jobs.
Together, we were guided out of the store and onto the street, where red and blue lights painted the chaos and news vans crowded the curb, cameras already angling for a story.
I’d never admit it out loud.
But whether she meant to or not, Violet saved me.
And that wasn’t something I’d ever take lightly.