Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Tommy
Porca miseria.
Motherfucking hell.
I mean it in both languages. Maybe the fuckwad would have recognized Stella and approached her even without me here.
Maybe he did it because he noticed me talking with her.
I don’t know, but here we are. In a fucking bar brawl that’s one—two since Stella won’t stay fucking put—against nine.
Three more came out of the fucking woodwork.
“Let Ms. Rizzo leave. Then we’ll talk.”
By talk, I mean they’ll try to kill me, but not before I gut at least a few of them. I have a knife in each pocket since I couldn’t carry my gun in here. I didn’t have a suit coat to hide it beneath. My mistake.
“We’ll make you watch us talk to the Mafia princess.”
“She won’t be talking with our dicks in her mouth.”
The obvious leader spoke first, but a guy who must be his brother thinks he’s funny. He can’t possibly think he’s intimidating when he weighs at least a hundred pounds less than me. He could be a jiu jitsu master, and I’d still crush his windpipe with one hand around his spindly neck.
I’m pleased Stella stays silent. I feel both her hands fisting my shirt, and it reassures me she knows not to move.
My shoulders are broad enough no one can reach her without moving me first. If no one attacks, I’ll angle us, so she can bolt to the kitchens.
I noticed no one in there when we backed up to where we are.
There are swinging doors with windows, so I had a clear view inside. No one’s moving around in there either.
“What’s it going to take to let Ms. Rizzo leave?”
“You heard me. Not until she’s sucked us off.”
This guy truly has a death wish. What about me—my expression, my stance, the punches I’ve thrown—make me look like he’d come out the winner?
There are two guys passed out on the floor right now from when other patrons fought to get out of the bar.
None of them have checked on their men, which is fucked-up.
Nine against one. The odds aren’t in my favor.
At least one of them could have checked on the other guys.
“Since we all know that isn’t happening, how much will it cost?”
“You got that much cash?” This guy joined the crowd once everyone else fled.
“Stick your hand in my pocket and find out how much I have.”
Crude, but this isn’t a refined group. Did Stella just laugh? I felt her move.
“You can’t stop us. We way outnumber you.”
“You’re obviously in charge. What’s your name?”
“Mike.”
“You might outnumber me, but you won’t touch the don’s daughter, Mikey.
Not if you want to survive the Rizzos. Your boss won’t be thrilled to hear about this.
Come after me on my own? Fine. Come after Don Giacomo Rizzo’s youngest daughter?
Death wish. Do you really want to find out what happens when Edoardo gets here to find out why his sister set off her tracker? ”
I pray to high heaven she’s wearing one.
If she’s not, this is a colossal bluff that’ll definitely get me killed.
I don’t believe they’ll assault her. They’re not that stupid.
But they want to fuck with us. I keep my gaze locked on the two Chatty Cathy’s, but I’m fiercely aware of everyone around us and highly attuned to any move Stella makes.
I trust none of them at all. I’m waiting for one of them to strike when they think I’m distracted talking to Frick and Frack.
That’s why I’m ready for when the next attack comes. Stella’s clinging to the back of my shirt, so she twists when I do because the knuckles come flying toward my right temple. Much like I did before, I grab this guy’s fist and squeeze as hard as I can.
I know I have large hands. They’ve even been called bear paws, and I use that to my advantage as I practically crush this guy’s fingers.
However, it opens my left flank to another attack.
I release him, and my hands fly to my pockets, pulling out and flipping open my knives just in time to slash a set of ribs as the guy lunges toward me.
He recoils with a scream, and I quickly adjust my hold to stab. It goes through his belly, and I yank upward, doing as much damage with one thrust as I can. I know exactly what’s going to happen, and it does.
All holy hell breaks loose. No one pulls a gun, but now every man has a knife out. I feel like fucking Julius Caesar on the Ides of March.
The upside to none of them grabbing guns is that I’m not worried someone will accidentally shoot Stella. They must be at least semi-aware or have at least an ounce of common sense.
As I wield both knives, I shift again, hoping Stella takes the hint as I keep men away from my right side.
This is her chance to bolt, but she doesn’t.
Instead, she tugs on my shirt, pulling me even closer to her.
Now she’s completely sandwiched between the wall and me.
There’s no chance she can move. I widen my stance to ensure no one can knock me off balance.
I’ve been in situations like this before, but I’ve been sure other guys are on the way. I have no such assurance this time.
“Tracker?” I whisper to Stella without my lips moving since I don’t need anyone to hear that.
“On.”
Thank heavens for small mercies.
I continue to wield my weapon, slashing and thrusting, catching a few guys here and there, but only doing enough damage to incapacitate the first one. The rest of the guys merely can’t get within arm’s reach of Stella, and that’s my goal now. I know I can’t defeat them all.
I just need to buy us time.
“Tommy, to your left.”
Stella’s harsh whisper barely reaches me in time as a chair comes flying toward my head. I have to trust Stella will duck, too. Otherwise, if I move, she’ll take the brunt of the chair legs coming toward us. If I don’t duck, it’ll take me out. Then she’ll be unprotected.
She moves with me, but I feel her jerk to the left.
Then a guy screams. I can’t take my eyes off of the three men approaching me from the front, but from the corner of my eye, I see blood gush from the guy’s chest. The only way he could bleed like that is if a knife slashed him. Stella must be carrying her own.
As more men converge on us to grab my arms and pull me away from Stella, she continues to hold on to me with one hand. As they try to pull her away, she refuses to let go, yanking the shirt back and practically choking me as the buttons press into my throat.
“Stella, stay with me.”
“I’m trying, Tommy.”
There’s no panic in her voice. Instead, it’s determination and irritation.
How long has it been? How far away are her brother or his men?
I have no idea where any of the Rizzos are except for Stella, and she’s somewhere she never should have been. When we get out of this, my hand and her ass are going to have a reckoning. If I weren’t so intent upon keeping us both alive, she’d piss the shit out of me right now.
I continue to defend us, and now that there are three knives protecting Stella and me, the men are a little less aggressive. I think her wounding one of their men made them realize they shouldn’t underestimate either of us. But it’s inevitable that despite our best efforts, we’re overwhelmed.
I feel small slices to my arms, but nothing major until I’m forced to twist and push Stella down, landing on top of her. It’s my blade that slices my thigh. But I had no choice as the biggest guy launched himself at us, not just wielding knives, but his entire body.
“Stella?”
“I’m alright. You?”
“Fine.”
I’m the furthest thing from fine, but it’s not like I can bitch about my minor scratch now.
“Why do I feel blood then, Tommy?”
I can’t see her beneath me as I continue to scan our surroundings. I don’t feel her hands on me, so hers must be in a puddle on the floor. From how much my leg fucking hurts, I can tell it’s gushing.
She’s moving beneath me, trying to tuck into a tighter ball, or at least that’s what I think she’s doing, until she suddenly pushes upward, almost throwing me off her back. Then there’s the undeniable pop-pop-pop of a pistol.
A bullet goes between the big guy’s eyes who just attacked us. Another goes through the chest of the guy who started all of this.
“Give me that.”
I bark my command, expecting her to obey. It shocks me she does, but it fills me with relief. She handles this gun and shoots with such ease that I don’t believe this is the first time she’s killed. That’s not something to impress me, but it does.
As she crawls out from under me, I catch a glance at her. She’s already pulled a second gun from her bag.
What the fuck does she carry in there?
It’s not even that big a purse. As she wraps both hands around the stock, she looks like an avenging goddess. Even with the pixie cut, she appears fierce.
None of the men pull guns. Instead, this time they put their hands up.
“Drop all your knives.”
My command echoes in the now silent bar.
It still surprises me none of them pull the guns I’m sure they’re carrying.
I spare a glance at Stella once more, then focus my attention on the men who surround us.
The way they watch her is with curiosity, but also the wariness one has with an injured wild animal.
They trust her not at all. It makes me wonder if I’ve misplaced mine right now.
As the men back away, I see a guy heading toward the bar. I’m sure there’s a panic button under there. The bullet I shoot goes through the back of his skull, blowing his face into the glass mirrors, splattering stuff nobody wants to think about.
This isn’t some little pistol. This is a high caliber handgun. I knew it was the moment she fired it, but the damage it does to this guy’s head confirms what I already knew.
“In the kitchen, all of you. You’re going to let us leave.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
The leader finally speaks up. Too little, too late now.
“You’ve seen what both of us will do. None of you have drawn guns, but I’m certain you all have them. You don’t want to risk killing Don Rizzo’s daughter. You were stupid enough to start this. Now we’re ending it. Let us leave, and we won’t say anything until we get back to the don’s house.”
That’ll buy them some time to speak to their boss and plan their own funerals because there’s no way their boss can let this stand. This is a shit show of the first degree.
My arm’s around Stella’s waist, both of us still aiming our guns toward our captors.
I position her behind me and back toward the front door of the bar.
This will have gained attention from people on the street, but I don’t know where the back door leads, so I refuse to risk trapping us in an alley.
When we reach the street, cars are pulling up.
I don’t know if they’re Stella’s family or more mobsters.
My leg hurts like a motherfucker.
“Stella!”
I recognize Edoardo’s voice. Then there’s the rapid fire of a semi-automatic rifle.
This shit’s just gotten really real.