Chapter 14 Ajla
AJLA
The sound of bullets coming from the outside started just two hours after Nicolas had left, and maybe it was the fact that I believed this house was like a little fortress, or maybe the fact that I believed no one would dare attack the head of the mafia at his own home, but I didn't react until the sound of one bullet being shot turned into two, three and then too many to count.
But instead of ducking under the table like I did in the restaurant, I ran out of the living room, where I've been mindlessly watching Supernatural for the hundredth time, and into the hallway—straight into Gio.
"What the hell is happening?"
"We're under attack.," He said it so matter-of -factly that I wouldn't have even believed him had I not seen the gun in his hand. "I need you to hide."
"W-What?" But Gio didn't wait to answer any of my questions.
He hauled me upstairs, straight into Nicolas's room, and slammed the door shut behind him. "I can't stay here with you. I need to get out and help the guys, okay?"
I stared at him wide-eyed, opening and closing my mouth like a fish on dry land. What was I supposed to say? Sure, buddy. You go ahead and kill some bad guys while I sit here and wait like the damsel that I am.
I didn't consider myself to be the damsel, but right now I felt like one. And I didn't like it one bit.
"Here," he pulled out another gun from his belt, or wherever the heck he kept it, and pushed it into my hands. "I can't stay with you, but Nicolas wouldn't want you to be unprotected."
I looked at the gun in my hands, then at him, then back at the gun, feeling its cold surface against my hands, and almost started laughing. Hysterically, probably, but what the actual fuck?
"Gio," I started, keeping my voice as calm as possible, "do I strike you as some kind of badass assassin?"
He glanced back at me after checking the door, his eyebrows scrunching. "Uh… is this a trick question?"
"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?
!" This being a fucking gun sitting in my hands as if it had any business being there.
Yeah, I knew what to do if I ended up in a minefield, but no one had ever taught me how to shoot a gun.
It wasn't like we had it on a regular curriculum in school back in Bosnia—How to Shoot a Gun 101.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Gio's eyebrows rose on his forehead, and it would've been funny if we weren't in a situation that required me to stay calm.
"You never shot a gun?"
"I’ve never even held a real gun, Gio!" Was I panicking? I was definitely panicking. "I'm not counting that one time I used a plastic one to spray water on my friends when I was ten fucking years old. But a real gun? Gio, really?"
"Fuck." Yeah, fuck seemed to be a suitable word for the current situation. "Do you know anything about guns?"
"Gio," I huffed, "I know we're in a shit show.
" I could still hear the shouting and shooting coming from outside.
"But unless you show me how to use this quickly, I don't think we’ll need to worry about somebody else killing me.
I might do it myself trying to look down the barrel and shoot myself straight in the face. "
"For the love of God." He holstered his own gun at his chest, and took the one from me.
"I don't want you shooting yourself, because I'm pretty sure Nicolas would then do something worse than shoot me in the face.
Here." He turned the gun toward me. Well, the backside of itn or whatever the fuck it was called.
"This here," he pointed at a mechanism at the very end of the gun, right at top, "is safety.
You need to flip it before trying to shoot. "
"Understood," I said automatically, but understanding definitely wasn't coming. Not even a little.
"Okay." He handed the gun back to me. "I know it looks easy when they shoot guns in the movies, but it's not. Aim for the head, Ajla, or the chest. Bigger targets. And most importantly—" He stepped closer, closing my fingers around the grip. "Do not fucking hesitate."
"I, uh... Got it." Yeah. I just hoped no one would even come to this room.
He looked at me, then at the door. "Lock the door behind me and shoot anyone who isn't us, okay?"
And then he was gone.
How the fuck would I know who wasn't "us" and who was "them"? The only people I knew were Nicolas, Gio, Damian and Mariella.
God.
I sat down on the bed, turning the safety back on and looking at the fucking killing machine in my hands.
What have I gotten myself into?
I always thought people were exaggerating when they said their entire life would flash in front of their eyes when they got into situations that were truly dangerous. Or if they were in an accident. Well, my life was definitely flashing in front of my eyes.
My memories, my friends, family–even Nicolas–they all appeared in little moments that kept flickering through my mind.
I tried not to flinch every time someone shouted, cried or fired another bullet, but it was difficult to when it felt as if the loud noises were getting closer and closer to my room.
And I had no idea who was winning. I had no idea what we were up against, not that I'd be able to do anything to help.
I was a liability right now, and no matter what, I knew I would only fuck up everything if I left this room.
But I really wanted to leave.
I had no idea how much time had passed, but it felt like hours since Gio left me here and I locked the door. I wished I at least had my phone to call Nicolas, but as soon as that thought surfaced, the next one followed—I didn't even have his number.
It was wild thinking that we had only met last night. Well, he kidnapped me last night, but you know… semantics.
Getting up from the bed, I started walking toward the windows, hoping I'd be able to see something, when the door handle rattled.
My heart fucking climbed into my throat as the rattling increased and the loud voices echoed through the room.
"Someone's definitely inside," came muffled through the door, and I knew there was nowhere for me to hide. If I went inside the bathroom, I wouldn’t be able to get out. And if I stayed here, I was most probably as good as dead.
"I'll handle this. Go help the others." Yeah, they definitely weren't Gio or Damian, and if it had been Nicolas he would've called out for me. Or he would've knocked.
I moved back toward the headboard of the bed when whoever was behind the door slammed into it, trying to break in.
Yeah, I was going to need a cardiologist or something after this entire ordeal. Therapy too, if I survived.
They slammed into it two more times before the door finally gave way, crashing into the room.
"You!" I said as the person walked inside, lifting my gun higher as if I knew what I was doing. "You're a motherfucking piece of shit, Johnny."
"Oh, darling." The fucker I went out with last night smirked. "It is so nice to see you. Had I known Nicolas would be into you, I would've planned this differently."
"Planned what?"
"Just, you know." He shrugged and took a step closer. "Killing him, taking over his empire, and well…" He looked around the room and then back at me. "Now I'm gonna be taking his woman as well."
His– Oh, no.
Looking at him now as he stood there, smirking, so fucking full of himself, I had no idea why I ever thought this man was hot.
His ego was bigger than the planet Earth, and something told me he was actually insecure as fuck.
The gelled hair, the perfect clothes–they were all a mask he wore to fool the world into thinking he's someone important.
"You really think you're so important that everyone from the Moretti family would follow you after you kill Nicolas?" I laughed. The audacity of this man.
"Shut up, bitch. You have no idea what you're talking about. Just because you got to fuck him once—"
"Technically, twice," I laughed again. "And I actually have to thank you, Johnny."
He frowned, taken aback by my words. "Me?"
"If it wasn't for your ten retellings of Mimi's aquarium, I never would've looked around the restaurant and I never would've seen Nicolas sitting there."
"What are you talking about?"
"Johnny," I removed the safety from the gun and aimed it at his chest. "You're as interesting as a financial report at the end of the year.
Honestly, you either have mommy issues or daddy issues, but I'm pretty sure that if Mimi had a choice, even she would choose to spend the rest of her life with someone like Nicolas instead of you. "
"Shut. Up!" he screamed.
"Why?" I cocked my head. "Truth hurts, doesn't it?"
"God, I should've fucked you before taking you to dinner last night, even if you didn't want it." The fuck? "I bet you'd be screaming for my cock once I get you on your knees, like a good little whore."
"Too bad, honey. I like it more when men are on their knees for me."
"Well," he moved closer, "why don't you lower that gun and find out. It's not like you'd be capable of shooting me. You're boring, a goody two-shoes, a no—"
The shot came out of nowhere, making me close my eyes as the sound echoed around us, ringing in my ears.
I waited for the pain, for anything, but that never came.
"You bitch!" Johnny's pain-filled voice came instead, making me finally open my eyes.
My gun was still aimed at him, the smoke slowly billowing out of the barrel, and when I looked at him, he was on his knees, hands pressed against his crotch.
His bleeding crotch.
His...
Oh. My. God.
I shot him.
Accidentally, but I shot him.
"You could've killed me," he cried, bending over. "I need an ambulance. I need help."
"Yeah, well," I stayed in place. "I needed you not to lie to me, yet here we are. You on your knees and me in a storyline I never saw coming."
Although, in this situation, I was definitely a winner.
A heavy pair of footsteps sounded from the hallway, and as they came closer I aimed my gun at the door, waiting for the next fucker to come through.
"Ajla!" Nicolas's face appeared, his hands going up in the air the moment he saw me with my gun. "Woah, woah, babe. It's me."
"Oh, thank God." I breathed out, feeling the relief coursing through my veins. "I almost shot you, you idiot. Why didn't you announce yourself?"
"I thought you were dead or worse," he gritted out as he crossed the room toward me. "I thought I had lost you." His lips pressed against mine, tasting like fear, despair and a whole lot of yearning. "I thought I would never get to do this again."
"Me too," I mumbled, wrapping my arms tighter around him, still holding the gun.
He stepped back, taking the gun from me, but still holding my hand. "Are you okay? You're not hurt, right?"
"No, I'm okay. Slightly shaken, but okay."
"I hate to interrupt you lovebirds," Johnny said behind Nicolas, "but kinda bleeding out here. Kinda dying. Kinda need help."
"Oh, shut up," Nico thundered, flicking off the safety and shooting him straight in the head.
Johnny fell on the floor like a sack of potatoes and instead of feeling fearful as Nicolas turned toward me, I felt the exactly opposite.
"Shit, I shouldn't have done that in front of you."
"Why?"
"Because you would probably want to run from me now."
Run? No, most definitely not.
I closed the distance between us, wrapping my arms around his waist instead and looked up at him.
"Tell me," I murmured. "Do you have a Mafia therapist? Because I might need one if I am to stay with you."