He does.
The smile that inches across his face shows me he’s in control and reminds me I’m not.
He crouches down and glares at me. “I’ll kill you. I will end you before you get the chance to do anything to me. The sacrifice would hurt me, because I do love you. But I won’t lose everything for you.”
The smile falls from his face, and his stare intensifies.
He grabs me as he stands, dragging me up with a snarl. He glances over his shoulder when Matvey approaches and turns to face him. Matvey laughs, amused at my ill treatment and helplessness.
“You can start boarding the plane now,” Matvey says. “The men are ready.”
“Perfect. I trust you have everything you need to continue as planned in Chicago?”
“Everything is as it should be. We’ll be heading back to Chicago shortly.”
And I’ll be going to LA.
“Good, all good. Contact me when you arrive,” Richard instructs.
“You bet,” he answers with the nod of his head.
The echo of a motorcycle engine grabs my attention. It’s loud, and I realize then that it can’t just be one.
I gaze ahead of us at the open expanse as the sound gets even louder and see them coming.
Ten motorcycles tear down the clearing ahead. And ten cars. The car that makes my heart lift, though, is the black Mustang who’s leading the pack.
“Alex,” I breathe, and Richard glances over at me then at Matvey.
“You told me he was dead,” Richard hisses.
“Zack shot him and he fell into the lake, he should be dead,” Matvey snarls.
“You fucker… get rid of them,” Richard orders.
I continue gazing out and hope with everything inside me that we get out of this alive.
But death is written all over Matvey’s face.
It’s all over his face and the men who follow him as he gives the command to kill.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Alex
I drive my car like I ride my bike.
Like the fucking devil.
My arm is bandaged up, and I’m wearing a support belt on top of the bandages around my waist.
Whatever pain I feel is replaced by my focus on what I have to do.
Fight dirty.
I’m nothing near top form. I’m not even fifty percent, so I’m going in with my street-smart tactics. I’ve got all sorts of weapons on me, and I plan to strike to kill on the first move, making no mistakes.
What I don’t want is to either get hurt or get killed, and obviously take myself out of the game. These motherfuckers are really going to get theirs. I’ll make sure of it. Every last fucking one, and I’ll hack Richard’s head off myself.
Our entourage gets close, and bullets start to fly. We knew that would happen, though, and that’s not going to stop us. We’re going in like an army, and we don’t plan on retreating like a bunch of fuckers.
Claudius leads the bikers in front. That includes Dante, Gio, and the Giordano pack led by their boss, Vincent Giordano. In times like these, one phone call bands us together and we fight side by side.
Donny leads the bikers to the back, and I lead the cars. This is us as the first wave. We have more men on standby for backup, but we thought our team here would be enough.
We didn’t think they’d consider my resurrection and me coming in with an army of raw-assed gangsters thirsty for blood.
When we get near Donny’s team, we split left and right to get to the side entrances of the airport.
I continue on with the car and the first row of bikers.
We drive in through the open door, and that’s when all hell breaks loose. The bullets crack my windshield, and I screech the car to a stop.
The other cars have stopped too, and the men jump out shooting.
We were right in our assumption. There aren’t many men around. On the other side, I count thirty, and before I get out of the car, I spot Matvey coming down the stairs of the upper deck. The motherfucker spots me too and roars like some wild animal, charging forward. I steady myself, waiting.
With injuries like mine, the goal in staying alive is to conserve energy and not exert myself when I don’t need to. So, when the asshole flies down at me, launching himself into midair like a beast, I don’t run like the pussy he thinks I am. I stay and time his movements, crouching down just before he gets to me and sending an upper cut into his stomach to deflect his flight. Instead, he flies over my head and lands hard on the ground.
He looks stunned, and I can see he took a hit and is more hurt than he’s showing. He hit his head, and his movements as he tries to get up are slow. I take advantage of that and shoot him in his chest.
I’m quick, but he’s strong and thick.
He comes for me as if the bullet did nothing but graze him even though I can see blood seeping from the wound, spreading over his white shirt.
He throws a punch and gets me in my face. I’m stronger than that, and while he might be bulkier in muscle than me, I’m quicker.
“You asshole, you won’t get me,” he taunts as he sends a one-two punch into my waist.
I double over from the searing pain that makes me see stars but tuck and roll onto the ground out of the way of another punch.
“You fucker, we’ll definitely see about that,” I shout back sounding more confident than I feel. The asshole got me exactly where I got shot and now the wound hurts like a bitch again.
“Yes, we will. I’ll make sure you’re dead this time.”
I’m not in the mood for this pissing contest. I grab my knife and try to slash him, but he dodges, grabs his gun, and fires a shot my way.
I dodge and run behind the car to shield myself for the next round he sends towards me. It’s time to end this. My body is on fire, and I think I might have busted those stitches Doc warned me about. I can’t even feel my shoulder anymore, but as long as my arm can move, I’ll make it work.
I see him coming, so I move in the other direction. An idea comes to me, so thinking quickly, I slide over the hood of the car and recoil with my gun ready.
I fire a rapid round and get him in mid flight as he was about to shoot me.
I must have fired six bullets, and they’re all embedded in him now. Three in his head, the rest in his chest. He never stood a chance. He was dead before he could take another breath.
His eyes close first, and he drops to the ground in a crumpled heap.
Jesus… I fucking killed him. A man that was supposed to be untouchable. So untouchable he threatened the lives of my men and their families like he could kill us all with one look.
The fucker is dead now and so are all of his plans and all the evil he planned to do.
There’s no time for victory. I can’t waste another second. I have to find Cora.
Where is she?
Where is Richard?
I shield myself again as the bullets fly all over the place.
I scan the upper deck, but I can’t see her. I look around, and she’s nowhere. Neither is he.
The plane’s still here, so they couldn’t have left. Or maybe they did. I don’t know. There’s too much noise around for me to pick sounds apart.
I make my way onto the next floor because that’s the only place I haven’t fully checked.
Shit. I hope like fuck Richard hasn’t hurt her or taken her somewhere else.
I hope I’m not too late.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cora
Richard shoves me into a car, and the driver drives off before we can even close the door properly.
There’s a guy sitting next to the driver who takes out his gun, getting it ready to fire if anyone comes close. No one seems to be coming, though, because we took the back entrance and we’re getting away.
“Fucking drive faster,” Richard bellows.
I glance down at his jacket and see his gun. If I can get it, I can try to get away.
I’m sick of being the ragdoll and the h
elpless woman. I trained for shit like this, so I need to fight back. Alex and his men came for me. God knows how they found me, but they did, and I can’t allow this car to drive away with me.
While Richard glances out the window to look back to where we came from, I take my chance and grab the gun from his pocket.
Adrenaline takes over, and I shoot the driver first then the other guy. Just as Richard grabs me, the car swerves uncontrollably when the driver falls over onto the steering wheel. We end up crashing into a truck, and the car flips over.
I hit my head as we go down so hard stars speckle my vision and I almost black out, but my instinct to survive keeps me awake to seize the window of opportunity. The chance to escape. Against the blood that runs down the side of my face and the impending pain that makes my head throb I shuffle around and kick the door open. I grasp on to the frame, pull myself out, and run.
I lost the gun when the car flipped, but if I can get back inside and hide, it will be something.
“Cora, stop!” Richard calls out and fires a shot. He misses, and I run straight into the hangar. It holds quite a few planes. I should be able to hide amongst them.
It’s semi-dark in here but bright enough for anyone to see me.
I hide behind the tail of a white Cessna and try to calm my breathing. I hear Richard come in, but I don’t see him. I can’t from where I am crouched.
“Cora, don’t make this hard on yourself. Don’t do this. It doesn’t have to be this way,” he jeers. “Come, come out and come with me. All I ever wanted was for us to be together. Was I so wrong to want the best for my child?”
My damn head is spinning, and every time he makes some reference to being my father, I feel sick. I feel physically sick, like I could heave and vomit.
I can’t imagine the pain my parents must have gone through. I don’t agree with them keeping the truth from him—that was wrong, and I can understand being angry about that.
At the same time, I know my mother, and I know my father. They thought of protection at all times. Everything they did together was to keep us happy, but more so to keep us safe. If they didn’t tell Richard I was his child, they must have had a pretty damn good reason for it, and I think I’m witnessing it firsthand.
Mom probably didn’t want to be with him because she saw this side of him, or knew it was nigh on coming.
I would have never sensed she thought there was anything malicious in him because he always came to see her. But now that I think of it, Dad was always there in the house or not far when Richard came to visit. Dad always had this look of caution about him whenever Richard was there, and Dad always made sure those visits weren’t for longer than necessary. Not at all like their other friends.
All those things were clues. Little lessons to me. And there I was, full of gratitude when I went to live with Richard. I never knew I was entering the mouth of hell to rub shoulders with the devil.
“Cora… I’m getting tired of this. Come the fuck out!” Richard shouts. His voice carries across the space surrounding us.
I swallow hard and think. I need to get out of here. I just can’t see the exit. I can’t see where I could go other than the way I came in. There must be a way though. Somewhere that connects to the main airport or a maintenance entrance. Something.
I take little steps, walking on the tips of my toes so as not to make any noise. His footsteps get closer, and my heart speeds up. I wish I had a gun or a weapon. There isn’t anything around that I can use to defend myself except my hands.
“Cora, I’m growing impatient. Come out! Come out! Come out!” Richard’s voice pierces through me. “Just like your mother. Stubborn bitch, so fucking stubborn. It’s not a good thing to be stubborn. It can get you killed. I can’t allow you to leave here without me. I won’t risk losing everything after you spill my secrets. Come out.”
His voice and his footsteps grow closer, and when I see a door ahead, I start running.
My footsteps are audible now. A second later, he’s behind me, running at top speed.
Whenever he complained about his age, I always used to chide him because I knew he could easily take down someone in their twenties. I just never thought it would be me.
He catches up to me quickly and jumps me, knocking me to the floor. He pins me down, but I fight and scream, punching him.
I punch and thrash, not giving up. I can’t let him take me. I can’t. He grabs my hair and pulls so hard I see stars again. I scream and throw a punch that connects with his jaw. There’s a crunching sound and he staggers backwards.
The opening allows me to slip away and make another run for it. The door is just another thirty feet away from me. It’s not that far. I can make it.
Richard fires a shot ahead of me, and the stack of paint on the shelves falls in my path. He fires another series of bullets, but I keep going and make it outside back onto the field. He follows me.
The bullets come, and I stumble, falling flat on my face, so I start to crawl until I can stand again, but I’m so weak I stumble once more and stop, realizing he’s going to shoot me. He’s going to kill me. I will die here, just like my mother. I’ve always been compared to her. This is the last thing. Ironic, we’ll die by the hand of the same man. Her best friend, my real father.
“That’s it. I’m done, Cora. I can see this is all we’ll ever be,” he shouts, and I turn to face him.
I’m battered and bruised.
This is it.
I can’t run anymore. I don’t want him to shoot me in the back as I run away. So I’m facing him head on.
I place one thought in my mind. One face. One man. The only one I ever loved. Alex.
How could I have told him I couldn’t be with him?
How could I have told him I didn’t want my future with him?
Goodbye, Alex, I really do love you…
Chapter Twenty-Six
Alex
I see her.
Fuck, she’s outside but too far away from me.
I race down the stairs but keep my eyes trained on the horror before me. Richard is pointing a gun at Cora, and I think he’s going to shoot her.
I think he’s going to kill her.
It’s clear he is.
I run towards one of the bikes the guys brought. There’s still fighting around me. I jump on it and gather my strength to make myself be okay. I have to do this. There is no question here or choice in the matter. I have to save her, and I have but one shot.
I gun the engine and ride. There’s a floor-to-ceiling glass window in front of me. The distance between me and it is twenty feet. The distance between them and me is about forty. The minute I burst through the window, I’ll have to shoot and take Richard out.
I accelerate and grab my gun. I’m going to have to use my bad arm to shoot and my good one to steady the bike.
I pull in a breath and count. One. Two. Three.
I crash through the glass in an explosive blast, and shards of glass go flying everywhere.
Richard looks toward me, and I take my shot.
The bullet gets him straight in his head the same way I shot Matvey, and he drops to the ground in a crumpled heap.
I drop the gun and grab the bike’s handle to steady myself as I pull to a stop that sends a bolt of pain shooting through my body.
“Alex!” Cora shouts.
I look back and see her running to me.
I jump off the bike and reach for her just as she throws herself into my arms, and although my fucking body feels broken, holding her is priceless.
She cries hard as I hold her, keeping her close, and I promise myself I’ll never let her go again.
Claudius smiles at me and gives me a nod. He’s the last one left.
We’re standing in the kitchen, and he’s getting ready to go back to Chicago with Ava.
Cora is in the living room, resting.
“Thank you again for today,” I say.
Only God knows what I would have done if they hadn’t come when th
ey did.
“You can’t thank me for doing something I would have done anyway. The doc’s going to come by in the morning to check on you,” he says.
“That’s fine. I think he’ll be happy when I tell him I can rest now,” I answer with a smile.
“Yeah. I’m happy to hear that.”
“I probably do need to rest and take a break too.”
Caution fills his eyes. “Does that break end with you coming back to Chicago, and back to us?”
I press my lips together. I’ve been thinking about that, definitely since I spoke to Cora days ago .
The translation of his question is really this—Do I want out of the business?
“I’ll understand if you need to speak to your girl first,” he adds.
“No. I don’t need to. I am who I am, Claudius, and I wouldn’t be who I am if I wasn’t Number Four, part of the crew. If there’s anything today taught me it’s that I know you guys always have my back, so I have yours. You came to my rescue, and you came for her. I can’t just bow out of the crew, the famiglia.”
“No?”
“No, Boss, so I guess if it’s alright with you, I’ll see you in two weeks.”
He chuckles and raises his fists to bump them with mine.
“See you in two weeks, bro. Call me if you need me.”
“I will,” I promise, and he leaves.
I head into the living room, where Cora is curled up on the sofa drinking a cup of hot chocolate. Her hair is piled up on top of her head in a sexy messy bun. She’s wearing one of the big T-shirts we bought at the market the other day.
I like the casual, sexy look, but I’m pissed as fuck about the bruise on her cheek and the bump on her head.
I crouch down before her, and she sets her cup down on the coffee table.
“Are you okay?” she asks. “You should rest. I’m worried about your wounds.”
“I’m okay, Goddess. Don’t worry about me. I’m good. The question is are you okay?”
“I’m happy to be here with you, I’m happy you’re alive, but I don’t know if I’m okay. Too much happened, Alex. Too much that will stay with me forever,” she says.
Double Edged Hearts : A Mafia Romance (Gangsters and Dolls Book 4) Page 17