CHAPTER ONE #3
I shook my head, unable to produce words as panic closed its invisible claws around my neck.
He yanked a second pistol from under his tailored blazer, placing it in my hand and curling my fingers over it. “Wait till I come for you, and don’t do anything stupid.”
I stared at him, furious and scared. I couldn’t believe any of this was happening: that he had murdered a man in a church, that we were under attack, and that there was a huge possibility some of my family members were dead.
“Goddamn it, Tierney. I want your word.”
My eyes darted around frantically. Where was Tiernan? Lila? Little Nero?
“Your word.” Achilles grabbed my jaw, returning my attention back to him.
“I’ll wait for you,” I spat out. “Now get your filthy hands off me.”
He paused for a moment, drinking my face in like it was the last time. The world fell to the periphery of our existence, and we shared a single pulse.
He tucked a stray flyaway behind my ear like he used to do before everything between us went to shit. For a fraction of a second, we were us again.
I opened my mouth to tell him the truth before it was too late. Before one of us died.
I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. And none of it was true.
Nothing came out.
A loud pop pierced the air. The person behind him got shot in the head and fell to the floor beside me. Haunted, lifeless eyes stared back at mine. Achilles stood up and was gone in a flash.
Enzo and my father were nowhere in sight.
They’d joined the Camorra’s efforts to push back the assailants.
I tilted my head toward the altar, searching for my family again.
Through the evaporating red mist, I found them huddled behind the organ, Tiernan protecting Lila and Nero with his body.
He had his gun cocked and ready, aimed at the open doors.
He didn’t join the other men.
As far as he was concerned, everyone else could die. His small family was his entire world.
A gunman in a balaclava and full combat uniform stalked inside, pointing his M16 at them. I squeezed one eye shut, aimed at the back of his head, and smoothly pulled the trigger. He dropped like a stone before Tiernan had the time to shoot him.
My brother’s gaze skidded in my direction. He jerked his chin in thanks.
“Run!” My scream was swallowed by the echo of gunshots and weeping. “I’ll cover you.”
Carefully, I rolled my body the other way, peering through the gap under the pew at the entrance.
The men had enveloped the doors, acting as a human shield for the women and children. They’d seemed to manage to kill all the rival clan members who had entered the church and were now waiting for the next wave of attack.
This was a war declaration. By whom, I wasn’t sure, but someone had decided to dethrone the Ferrantes as the leaders of Napoli’s Camorra clans.
Anticipation made the air sizzle. The corpse next to me was still staring, and now that most of the smoke was gone, I could see the face clearly. It was the priest.
There was a bullet hole in his temple. His blood crawled along the floor in my direction, soaking the sleeve of my dress. I pressed my lips closed, swallowing down the bile bubbling up my throat. I flicked my gaze behind my shoulder. Tiernan, Lila, and Nero were gone.
I let out a shaky exhale. Knowing they were safe made it slightly easier to breathe.
I heard a galloping horse in the distance. It whinnied, coming closer, until its hooves touched the church’s steps, click-clacking.
Clank.
Clank.
Clank.
Clank.
Through the curtain of red dusk, a black stallion materialized. It soared into the church like a mythological creature. Gasps and whimpers echoed across the walls.
I craned my neck to get a better look, a fresh wave of fear and nausea slamming into me.
Someone straddled the horse. The body of a man was strapped to it.
The man was headless.
A headless horseman.
Before I had time to digest what I was seeing, the horse advanced straight toward my pew, the corpse bouncing atop it. It was strapped in and erected by ropes.
As it got closer, I realized the body was booby-trapped. The torso of the corpse was naked, sewn across the chest and stomach in black stitches that looked ready to burst.
His gut was full of explosives. And he was headed my way.
I didn’t want to die.
I wanted to live and find my own happiness.
I realized if I wasn’t going to move from under the pew, I probably would die.
Achilles had made me promise I’d stay put and wait for him…
Fuck that asshole.
Rolling to my knees and elbows, I began army crawling to the front pews, away from the horse. I had one mission only—survival.
I didn’t make it more than two feet before a rough hand grabbed the collar of my dress from above.
It tossed me forward with force. I sailed from beneath the pew and across the room, my stomach burning with the friction.
My shoulder crashed against the wall. Pain exploded everywhere.
White dots filled my vision. I choked back a sob.
A body at least twice my size landed on top of me, pinning me to the floor. Achilles’s masculine scent invaded my senses. He covered me from above, his forearms protecting my face, his legs locking mine in place so I was completely shielded.
I wanted to thank him but knew he’d taunt me if I said anything. The few times I’d tried to explain myself to him had been met with ridicule and cruelty.
A few moments passed before I realized the bastard was hard.
His cock pressed against my ass cheeks through our clothes, thick and long, threatening to rip the fabric between us.
I didn’t know if it was the violence or me that brought him to arousal—probably both. I shifted, trying to escape the sensation of him. Not because it was unpleasant but because I couldn’t bear to get turned on by the man who ruined my life on a daily basis.
“Stay fucking put,” he growled.
“Tell your dick to stop harassing me, then,” I bit back.
“Don’t read into it.” Chuckling, he ground against my ass, just to piss me off. “We’re exes.”
“Exes who never had sex.”
“Yet.”
“Never.”
“Soon,” he volleyed back with a lazy drawl.
“Get off me.”
“No. But if you don’t shut up, I’ll get off on you just to teach you a lesson.”
“I’m going to put a bullet in your goddamn head.” He knew I’d do it.
“If I roll off you now, the next explosion is gonna get you. And it’s coming,” he ground out impatiently. “Do you want to die?”
I didn’t. That was the truth of it. I wanted to live, even if I didn’t have much to live for.
“What’s it going to be, then?” he taunted.
“Fine, I guess you can be my human shield,” I huffed. “Better you than me.”
“Piccola Fiamma.” His breath fanned the back of my neck, hot and whiskey laced. His heartbeat against my spine was slow and even. “I promise you, if someone were to take your useless life, it’d be me.”
A powerful explosion erupted. Walls rattled, windows shattered, and sizzling heat engulfed us in a ring of fire.
Everything turned black, but I knew I’d survive.
Everyone had a guardian angel.
Mine just happened to be my stalker.