CHAPTER 30 #2
A gunshot cracked through the air so close to us I flinched hard. But I wasn’t the only one. The man holding me faltered his grip as he too flinched and my training all seemed to kick in like never before.
I could hear their voices in my head – Hilt, Arran, Dario, and Cal. Take any opportunities. Use the distraction. Move first. Use surprise as your biggest asset.
I reacted before fear could stop me, not thinking too much and instead relying on my instinct.
I slammed the heel of my foot down into the man’s leather loafer, and drove my elbow hard into his throat this time, going for the bigger impact.
He gagged, grip loosening just enough for me to twist free, and when he reached for me again, I was already ready.
I pivoted exactly the way Arran had taught me, grabbed his wrist with both hands, and used his own momentum to throw him forward.
It definitely took him by surprise. He hit the marble floor hard enough that his gun skidded from his hand.
Everything slowed then. My mind seemed to stutter for a moment as I stared at that weapon, then I seemed to remember what was at stake, and I lunged for it, and grabbed it.
The weight was heavy in my hands. It was bigger than any gun I had fired before, but it was still familiar to the guns Arran had shown me at the range, and to what I fired with Hilt so long ago.
I looked for the safety and ensured it was off.
I assumed it was loaded. Who would walk around with an unloaded gun?
Certainly not anyone working for Adamian.
I reacted fast when I sensed movement behind me, the soldier I had taken down starting to try and get himself up. I pointed the gun right at him with shaking hands. My adrenaline was rioting and the shaking seemed to come with it. Not helpful!
“Don’t!” I warned him, my voice cracking.
He just smiled at me as he rose to his full height, then he lunged. He didn’t believe me capable. He was wrong.
The trigger was easy to squeeze. I remembered Arran’s words that I had to keep my eyes open, so I told myself not to flinch, and aimed as much as I could in the panicked moment. The shot exploded through the chapel.
The recoil jolted painfully through my arms and my right wrist was agony, but I dare not drop it from the two handed hold I had on the weapon.
I just stared on, heart pounding as the man dropped heavily to the stone floor.
There was blood coming from the middle of his chest. I’d hit him where Arran told me to aim, centre mass.
Silence punched through me for one sickening heartbeat, then the drumming of my pulse raced through me again as the truth settled. He was dead. I killed him. I didn’t miss. Oh my God.
“Cara!”
Rafe’s voice tore across the room. I spun toward him my grip on the gun staying firm and strong, despite the pain in both of my arms. Most of Adamian’s men were down.
I could see Arran and Cal fighting two of Adamian’s guys, and obviously winning.
Dio was leant over a guy, swiping blood from his own face.
Rafe was whole. They were alive. Dante was still alive. Relief hit so hard it physically hurt.
Rafe stood near the ruined doorway, gun raised, chest heaving violently. His colour was awful. Every breath looked painful, one hand pressed briefly against his ribs before he forced himself forward again. He looked exhausted, but he was standing.
Dio moved to his side fast, pressing in beside him like a shadow, firing methodically at the remaining Armenians, while Arran and Cal fought on, hand-to-hand near the pews with brutal efficiency. They were both pretty covered with blood, but none of it seemed to be their own.
Then movement caught my eye off to the side. One of Grigor’s men appeared from nowhere and had a gun aimed directly at Arran’s back.
“Arran!” I screamed as I lifted my gun, but I already knew I was too slow.
The shot fired from behind Arran before I even had the gun straight, and a scream tore from me. My feet were moving with no care for the bullets still flying around me. I couldn’t lose him!
But it wasn’t Arran who fell. Callan leapt in from absolutely nowhere, slamming into his brother hard, and they both landed with a deafening crash.
A loud cry of pain I knew had come from Cal echoed around us and I swore my heart stopped.
“CAL!” I cried.
Arran appeared behind the debris they had landed amongst and turned instantly, horror ripping across his face. He lifted Cal’s top half up into his arms and I could see as blood spread rapidly through Cal’s shirt.
“Arran?”
Arran glanced to me for just a moment, then he set Cal back down and got to his feet. Calm. He was too calm. It terrified me. Then something feral snapped loose in him.
He turned and threw himself at the shooter with terrifying violence, driving him into a pew hard enough to splinter the wood, before pulling out a long knife, that caught the light as Arran plunged it viciously into the man’s chest. He ripped it out and stabbed him several more times, his teeth bared and his body rippling with unrestrained rage the entire time.
I probably should have been scared but I wasn’t. The bastard deserved everything he got and so much more. He shot Cal and he would have killed Arran if Cal hadn’t dived in.
“Cal?” I called desperately as I looked to where I could just see the top of his head over the mess surrounding him. He wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t he moving? I needed to go to him, but I didn’t want to leave Dante.
“Cal! Look at me, God damn it!” I screamed.
Arran heard me, already returning to where he had left his brother - his hands, face, and clothes splattered with even more blood now. He dropped to the floor again. The gunfire around us quietened and I could hear Arran.
“Cal? Cal, look at me!” He rasped as he tapped at Cal’s face gently.
Finally Cal opened his eyes and a sob of relief tore from me. I watched as Arran pulled him up so he held Cal against him, his back to Arran’s chest. I could see the bullet had torn through his shoulder, but the bleeding seemed slow at least.
“What the feck were ye thinkin’ lad?” Arran gasped, half relief and half anger.
“You’re welcome,” Cal groaned, grimacing, obviously in pain. Even then though, he still tried to smile.
“Cara…” I turned and found Dante, awake and struggling weakly against the ropes binding him. “Cal…is he…” he could barely breathe, let alone talk.
“Stop!” I cried as I ran toward him, dropping to the ground beside him. “Cal’s okay. He got shot in the shoulder. Stop moving!”
Up that close, the injuries were even worse, which shouldn’t have been possible. Bruises wrapped around his throat. One rib visibly shifted wrong as he continued to struggle. Rope burns cut deep into his wrists. Blood crusted near his temple from a partially healed, long and deep cut.
“God, Dante!” I gasped, fighting not to cry. He had to be in agony, but still, his gaze focused entirely on me, that look of worry in his eyes that I knew too well.
“You okay?” he asked roughly.
A broken laugh escaped me. Tears slipped free and I swiped them away quickly.
“You’re asking me that?” I sniffled.
I reached for the ropes with trembling fingers, knowing he needed to be free if he was going to calm down at all.
“Missed you,” he whispered as he finally stilled his fight and let me try to untie him.
“I missed you too, big guy,” I sniffled looking to him with the hint of a smile.
“Everyone stop!” The loud, deep order came from Daniel, and I turned instantly to look for him, then froze.
Daniel had a gun pressed to Dio’s head. Dio was stood before him, blood staining his white shirt, his arms held out at his sides while Daniel pressed the butt of a chrome gun against his head hard enough to see it pressing into the flesh there.
The entire room stopped moving. My eyes met Dio’s as he stood perfectly still beside one of the shattered windows, blood running from a cut above his eyebrow, jaw tight with fury.
Daniel looked calm as ever. Controlled. His suit was a little dust covered, but not a hair was out of place on the man. It was like he remained untouched by the chaos, and I really started to wonder if he was human at all.
“Enough wreckage,” he announced simply.
I stood slowly, lifting my gun toward him. I was so done with listening to this monster. His eyes shifted to me immediately. He seemed more interested and amused, than concerned or angry.
“Let him go!” I demanded as calmly as I could, “Or, I swear to God…”
“You’ll kill me?” he mocked. It was the first definite emotion I had seen on him. Amusement.
I swallowed hard but kept the gun trained on him.
This ended here. I was resolved. I wasn’t losing anyone I cared about.
This was my moment, my turning point. I was done being used, abused, sheltered, and underestimated.
I was stronger than anyone ever knew, and this was the point at which I proved it to them, and believed it for myself.
“Yes.”
For a moment neither of us moved, then Daniel smiled faintly, less mocking now and almost approving.
“I believe you just might,” he agreed, shocking me. “You really are an Adamian, aren’t you?” he smirked.
“No. I’m a De Santis,” I corrected him assuredly.
“Daniel,” Grigor barked. I didn’t know how that bastard was still alive.
Daniel ignored him and his eyes remained fixed on mine. The smile slipped from his face and the stoic expression returned.
“You know what your father never understood?” he asked calmly. “Fear works temporarily. Loyalty lasts longer.”
Something changed in his expression then, and suddenly those words he’d said to me earlier seemed to piece together in my head. I lowered the gun to my side as Daniel moved his own from Dio, and turned it, then shot Grigor in the chest.