Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
In that moment, all chaos breaks loose.
The rain outside is on par with the rain of bullets that’s ruining the inside of my home, every single piece of furniture is now filled with holes. The glass from the dining table, the pieces of broken, ruined family photo frames, and even the TV.
Cove’s on my left, his expression not giving away a goddamn thing. He’s apathetic, without a single emotion on his face. He has it out for a singular man, and Cove is hot on his tail. The man is chasing, but Cove is faster, and I already know how this little game of cat and mouse will end.
Keith has brought more of our men, and now the full confidence of this night ending on a good note returns. Another bullet flies right past me, grazing my cheek ever so slightly. The blood immediately starts dripping from the cut, and I cuss under my breath.
Fuck.
What if Blair doesn’t like me having a facial scar?
I shake the thoughts off, just as Dad rushes past me. He’s very fast, and he reaches the top of the stairs before Flint can react. Mainly, because he is in pure and utter shock. The only reason he was bold enough to do this is because he thought that Hudson De Santis was dead.
But he’s very much alive, and he’s coming right at him.
Flint’s other hand wraps around Aria’s throat, the gun still firmly pressed against the back of her head. He pulls her closer, the hand on the gun slightly trembling. He maintains eye contact with Dad, who is now almost on the top of the stairs, mere steps away from them both.
I can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation.
A bullet leaves its chamber, managing to hit the gun in Flint’s hand.
The action is so sudden, so intense he doesn’t even have time to register it.
The wound causes him to drop the gun, the weapon landing on the floor with a thud, reverberating through the room.
His eyes snap to the side, and when he spots my mother wearing a very pissed off expression on her face, pointing a gun directly in his head, his confidence falters.
The domineering demeanor he’s been trying to keep up slowly cracks under the pressure of the two most powerful people in the game, and I swear to God, in this moment, Dad falls in love with Mom all over again.
To her credit, Aria does move to the side, though she’s barely able to do so.
She’s staring at Dad with eyes slightly widened, her complexion paling a little.
She’s looking at him like she’s just seen a ghost. This has to be one hell of an adjustment, especially given the circumstances.
A lone tear slides down her face, and when I look at Dad, his face is filled with guilt.
However, he knows that damage control will have to wait.
Instead, he charges straight toward Flint, knocking him to the ground with all his might.
Flint gasps for air, but that’ll be the only time Dad’s letting him breathe.
He climbs on top of him, allowing his fists to do all the work for him.
Soon enough, the cracking sounds echo through the room, the sight of blood oozing out of Flint’s face makes my chest flutter in satisfaction.
Dad’s not nearly done, though, and no matter how much Flint tries to fight him off, there’s nothing and no one that would be able to pull Dad off now.
Not after Flint just held Aria at gunpoint.
Dad’s seething, seeing red and punching every single part of Flint’s face, over and over. For good measure, he pulls back, then uses his elbow to break his nose further, not giving a shit about the blood that transfers onto him.
As much as I’d love to stand here and watch this show, I’m forced to look away.
There are still things that need to be done around here.
Cove’s still on the move, either fist-fighting, or using the weapon to take them down.
Cove’s favorite method of killing people is with his hands; he’s an underground fighter, after all.
However, luckily, he isn’t stupid. He knows that using his fists wouldn’t do him any good right now, and that the chances of him surviving would be slim.
The loud sound of Keith’s deep, rich cackle brings my attention to where he’s standing.
He is in one corner, without a gun, with two men standing in front of him.
My brows fly to my hairline, and I’m not sure if I’m fucking hallucinating, or if Keith is quite literally jumping up and down.
There’s a wide grin on his face, and his bottom lip is split, with a stain of dried blood all over his chin. His eyes are filled with madness that I wouldn’t want to provoke, and the two men are equally as confused.
“Come on,” Keith taunts. “Hit me, bitch.”
Mentally, I facepalm.
I should’ve known there was a reason why Aria took a liking to Keith.
It’s because he’s just as fucking insane as she is.
He’s leaning in, then pulling away from the two men.
It’s like he doesn’t realize that the guns in their hands are faster than his fucking hands.
But, one of the men, who is either equally as mental as Keith, or has had enough of his childish behavior, decides to grant him the wish.
He fists his hand, and immediately aims for Keith’s cheek — hitting it perfectly.
I wince, watching as blood pours out of Keith’s mouth.
His head is still turned to the side, a low chuckle slipping him.
He spits the blood on the floor, and dread overwhelms me.
If I thought I was doomed before, I’m definitely not surviving Mom’s wrath now – this is her favorite carpet, and the motherfucker spits blood all over the white carpet.
When Keith finally looks back at the two men, his eyes are different.
They’re charged with different kinds of madness, one that I know too well.
His pupils are blown out, and the grin that tugs on the corners of his lips genuinely terrifies me.
Well, it would if I were in the shoes of the men that are about to learn why they probably shouldn’t have pissed him off.
Keith is older than me, I’d say he’s about thirty-five to forty, though his build tells a different story.
He lifts weights daily and he trains with Cove at least four times a week.
The man is so rigorous with his food intake, watching everything he puts in his mouth.
He’s extremely good at what he does, which he proves in the next few seconds.
Despite the two men carrying weapons and having them pointed directly at Keith’s head, they find themselves without guns in the blink of an eye.
Keith lunges forward, catching them both by surprise.
One of his hands grabs one gun from the man on the left and shoots the man’s gun straight out of his hand.
Knowing that Keith has everything under control, I move forward, taking down another couple of people as I go.
This is why being outnumbered never scared me.
It doesn’t matter if you have a thousand-man army against four people, if the four are more skilled, with a better game plan, and territory advantage then the numbers are irrelevant.
A dozen soldiers might get lucky, but the four people they’re up against don’t need to count on luck.
They count on their deep knowledge of the battle, keen senses of detecting danger, and strategic planning on how to make even the worst-case scenario work in their favor.
That’s why I’m standing in the middle of what used to be my living room, with at least twelve dead bodies around me.
There are many more scattered all around the premises, and the sound of bullets flying outside, only tells me our men have that part covered too.
At this point, I can plant a bed of dead men in Mom’s garden, and they’d bloom.
My breathing is heavy, the adrenaline still running hot in my veins.
A look of satisfaction crosses my features at the sight in front of me, a couple of droplets of sweat sliding down my forehead.
My feet are covered in blood, when I walk, all that is left behind are my footprints in a gorgeous, deep shade of maroon.
This is going to be such a hassle to clean, but I’m so fucking happy it’s almost over.
Dad’s still on top of Flint, punching and knocking teeth out. I walk upstairs, carefully stepping around any dead bodies I spot, reaching Aria’s side. I pull her in a side hug, and that’s when she snaps out of the haze.
“He’s alive,” she whispers.
“I know.”
Her eyes snap to mine. “You knew?!”
I flinch. “Yes, but—”
“It’s fine,” Aria interrupts, eyes falling to Dad again. “I know he probably forced you to keep quiet.”
My mouth opens, then I clamp it shut. That’s definitely not how this went down, but you know what? This is his fault, really. He can take the fall for this one, and it’s his consequence to deal with. I’m throwing him under the bus.
“You’re absolutely right. He did force me to keep quiet. I’m sorry.”
Aria sighs. “I’ll figure it out with him. I’m not mad at you.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Thanks, Squirt.”
Dad finally pulls back from Flint, his breathing ragged. The man beneath him is dead. Fucking hell, Dad made quite the mess. One of Flint’s eyes has been blown out of the socket, his teeth embedded into Dad’s knuckles, and his breathing non-existent.
Three down, two to go.