42. Sarcasm Conceals Pain
Chapter 42
Sarcasm Conceals Pain
Giordano
I glare at the man standing before me as I pull her into one final embrace. “When I let go, run for your life. Don’t look back. Don’t turn around. Don’t fucking stop… even when you overhear something you shouldn’t. Fai la brava. I love you. Find Xander outside. He’ll help you.”
I need to protect her. She’s been hurt enough because of me. She’s covered in stab wounds, cuts, and bruises are scattered on her face and arms. She needs medical treatment, a few stitches at least.
She sniffles, voice breaking. “ Please, don’t let me go.”
“Mi dispiace. I have to.” My arms drop. “Hai bisogno di andare… vai.”
I let her go.
Even Cillian’s giving her the chance to go. However, she doesn’t run. “Antonella Marie, run . Before you’re hurt any more than you’ve already been, please ,” I beg, “I’m giving you a chance .”
The stubborn woman of mine doesn’t move.
Doesn’t even try.
Goddamn it, Antonella .
Cillian’s smile morphs into something wicked as he pulls back the trigger, sending a single bullet flying directly into her .
“No!” My roar bounces off the cold walls, echoing in my own head. Everything’s as if it’s in slow motion—her entire body becomes limp in my arms—her beautiful, brown, doe-like eyes widening as she falls against me.
He fucking shot her.
“ Ahh !” My vision’s entirely red. All I see is rage. She keels over. A gut-wrenching, ear-piercing scream rips through her throat.
I lower her gently down on the ground. There’s only a high-pitched ringing in my ears, and one thing left to do. I’d give up my need for revenge. This isn’t even about my father anymore.
It’s about her.
I’d leave now if I weren’t certain he’d come back for her if he somehow made it out alive from this… It needs to end here.
He needs to die.
The awful, painful cries from amore della mia vita reverberate off the walls of the concrete room, echoing in my head. This solidifies my decision. He can’t come after her again, or anyone else.
Her blood is on me.
Her blood.
Is on.
Me.
A loud roar rips through my chest as I pull the loaded gun out of my holster and almost empty the entire clip into his chest. Leaving one remaining bullet in the chamber.
“Stay awake, amore,” I whisper, stepping around her.
I stand over him. Whimpering like a coward. I spit on his face. “You pathetic excuse for a man.”
She’s the reason I pick myself up every morning and continue on doing what I do.
She’s the reason I don’t get myself killed every time I leave the house .
He hurt my reason.
“Y-you—” he chokes out.
“Any last fucking words before I blow your brains out on this concrete floor?”
“I’m not the only one you’re after.” He laughs. “It’s not only me. They’ll come for you.”
Noted for later. “ You hurt my woman, Cillian. You have touched what’s mine. I don’t appreciate it. You know what happens to people who touch what’s mine?”
“F-fuck you,” he manages to say.
“They die.” I aim the barrel of my handgun at him, and pull back the trigger, shooting him right between the eyebrows.
His head knocks back, causing him to fall to the ground. Blood splatters everywhere. On me. On him. On the ground, pooling beneath him in a puddle.
Good as dead .
I immediately bolt back to Antonella, who’s quietly sobbing on the cold concrete. “I’m so sorry, amore. You were supposed to run,” my voice cracks. I cradle her neck in my arms, careful not to harm her. I caress a wet, tear-soaked strand of hair out of her face.
“I think this cures the whole blood issue, no?” She lets out a quiet little giggle, then coughs.
I don’t find it amusing. “Why didn’t you run?”
“I… couldn’t leave you.” She coughs, again. Her wet, mascara-smeared eyes squeeze shut, and then open slightly to a slit.
“You’re so strong, so brave,” I praise her.
“Am I going to die?”
“No . You’re not dying on me, amore. I’ll make sure of it.” Tears pool in my heavy eyes.
Her lungs rattle as she inhales a large, shaking breath. “Ti amo, Giordano. I love you… ”
My heart tightens in my chest. The first time she says I love you and she’s dying in my arms. No. “None of that, Antonella. I love you more than anything. We’re going to get you out of here, capisce?” I caress her cheek with the pad of my thumb, blinking back more of my tears.
I have to get her out of here. Move her without lodging the bullet further or deeper into her somehow.
“I don’t feel so good…” Her breathing slows down, steady, but slow. “You’re the best thing—” She takes another deep, shaky inhale through her mouth as tears stream down her brightly flushed cheeks, though the color is steadily draining. “—to happen to me, amore epico della mia vita,” she finishes her sentence in a gentle whisper.
No .
“Don’t you dare die on me. Our time together just started, Antonella. Wake up .” I grip her cheeks, shaking her paling face gently side to side. “Come back to me, baby.” My trembling fingers search her neck for a pulse.
It’s still there— faint .
Relief floods over me. “You’re going to make it. You’re going to be fine. You can’t escape me that easy.”
A part of me is dying along with her. She’s my light, my apricity.
We have to get out of here. I lift her up into my arms, and carry her out of the building the same way I came in while stepping over the dead bodies I left in my trail. Which is a way of knowing I’m going in the correct direction.
“Xander!” My voice hoarse as it rips through, scratching my throat as I carry her outside to the SUV. He’s parked a few feet away from the abandoned warehouse.
“You foun?—”
“Cillian’s dead. Antonella’s been shot, non-responsive. I’m taking her to the hospital wing. Have the doctor ready for her. We need a clean-up crew here. Stay. Make sure everyone does what they do best.”
“On it.” He pulls his phone quickly out of his pocket, frazzled as he’s pulling up a contact. “There’s blood on your shirt.”
I stop, standing still as I glance over at him. “You think I give a single fuck about the blood on a piece of fabric right now?”
Silently, he swings the car door open, and I gently lower her down on the back seat on her side.
“I would’ve left him bleeding out on the floor. I don’t give a fuck about the revenge. But if there was a single chance he’d live… and come for her, again…” I snap at him.
“Get out of here,” he orders.
I slide as fast as I can into the front seat, glancing back in the rear view mirror. Seeing her pale face as she lay still, breaks my heart. “I’m sorry, baby. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to make it.”
I can’t tell who I’m trying to convince more, her or me as I slam the door.
My foot is heavy on the gas as I pull off onto the empty city streets. We’re going to make it in time.
The sun’s barely coming up over the lake. She’s been out of my arms for fourteen hours. Too goddamn long. I’m never letting her out of my sight again.
“Amore, it’s sunrise . You love the sunrise,” I say in a hushed tone, finally allowing a tear to slide down my cheek. I’m quick to wipe it away and tighten my grip around the cold leather steering wheel.
She isn’t going to die on me.
No.
She doesn’t get to leave me.
“It’s almost as beautiful as you are, Antonella Marie. There’s purple—or periwinkle like you told me it’s called. A blush pink like how your cheeks looked when I made you cum for the first time.” I choke out a sob mixed with a laugh .
A pathetic attempt to give myself more hope.
“The blue, oh the blue. You’re bellissima in blue. I know you think black looks best on you—for the slimming effect, but this specific shade of blue…” I groan. “A fucking Goddess.” My words are barely wanting to come out. I pull around off of the interstate, going as fast as I can drive, the pedal to the floor. Of course this is the one time we don’t have a faster vehicle. Why didn’t we take the sports car?
“The gold looks almost exactly like the little flecks you have in your eyes.” I chuckle. “You like to say your eyes are such a dark brown… Amore, they’re so much more. Especially when the light hits them. I never had a favorite color until I met you, didn’t give it so much as a thought.” I admit quietly while pulling into the parking lot behind our office building—our warehouse.
“The way you lit up explaining all the colors of the sunrise—they’ve quickly become all my favorites.”
I fling myself out of the car, body on autopilot as I carefully pull her out and into my arms. She’s barely conscious, breathing shallow. “We’ll be there shortly. Don’t you worry,” I tell myself more so than her. Another tear slides down my cheek. “What good is revenge if I lose you in the process?”
God knows I’m a mess.