Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Frankie reaches his arm around to catch me. We stand in the middle of a rainstorm, with a nightmare group of bad men surrounding us. But for this moment, we’re both still alive, and that’s all that matters.
I breathe out all my hatred and wait for the next shoe to drop.
CHAPTER 39
FRANKIE
I’m running on autopilot at the moment. Nothing that happens registers with my conscious brain. The only thing I did when I was down on the floor was keep my head covered to avoid any hits there. I can feel the blood thundering through my body, and I know there are multiple injuries to attend to.
When Sofia fires, it’s as if I’ve done it myself. I’m sure she had to overcome remarkable odds to pull that trigger. People like us don’t kill without considering all the ramifications. Even in the heat of the moment, I know it was a difficult decision for Sofia.
I put my arm around her to hold her steady. There are still way too many people in the apartment for us to get out safely. We’re going to have to fight our way free, and we only have one gun between the two of us.
One of Andretti’s men moves to attack, while the other one goes down on one knee to check on their boss. I can’t hear Andretti saying anything. I can’t see him through the water spraying us. I think he’s dead, but I’m not really sure. I know he’s injured, and that for the moment, at least, he’s no longer our primary concern.
Sofia grips her weapon with white knuckles. I guide her sight toward the person who’s advancing on us. Before I can react, someone hits us from the back. Since Sofia and I are standing so close, we both go down.
Her gun goes off because her finger was already on the trigger. The bodyguard in front of us cries out, pressing a hand to his shoulder. I can see blood gushing between his fingers, but that’s all that registers before I collied with the coffee table.
I’m forced to release my hold on Sofia and roll away, noticing only belatedly that she’s pinned beneath Mitch Harlan. He leans back to punch her, but I dive into him, knocking him away.
We struggle briefly, and I’m amazed at how strong he is. I’m no bodybuilder myself, but I wasn’t expecting this kind of resistance. He reaches for my shirt collar, yanking on it so hard that I almost choke.
Sofia rolls aside, scrambling for the gun. I’m only peripherally aware of her struggle because I’ve got my hands full. When she doesn’t come to my rescue, I realize something’s wrong.
One of Carlo Andretti’s men has set his sights on her. I’m torn between the enemy I’m fighting and the one approaching her. She kicks out with one foot, but he dodges it easily aside. I twist away from Harlan to try and rescue her, but the newspaper man drags me back down.
We’re both fighting tooth and nail. If we give up for even a second, all is lost. I don’t want to die, and I don’t want Sofia to lose her life either. There’s a desperation that creeps in, causing me to make mistakes.
I allow my attention to be diverted. Harlan takes advantage of that, slamming his fist into my face. I hear something crunch, and I’m worried that he’s just broken my nose. I feel heat rushing to my face, and I know that’s going to hurt in the morning if I survive.
We’re down to the last second. Sofia’s gun is somewhere on the floor, but there’s at least one other gun in the room. The guard whose knee I managed to kick in is backed against the wall. The second and third bodyguards are closing in on Sofia, even though one is bleeding, and there’s nothing I can do to help.
Just then, the door flies open. I have a split second to panic about who is on the other side. If it’s another one of Andretti’s henchmen, then our goose is cooked. There’s no way we’re walking out of this apartment alive. It’s so small, it could serve as a coffin for all three of us. Me, Sofia, and Andretti will have our last rites read together. It will be the saddest funeral ever held, but none of us will be alive to see it.
I hear gunshots, and before I can get away, I feel Harlan go limp. One minute I’m holding him by the lapels, and the next, he’s slumped against the floor. I watch in amazement as a bloody flower blossoms against his chest.
Rolling away, I glance up to find myself looking at Uncle Gio’s shoes. I know they’re his because he buys the same brand every time. They’re Italian leather, shipped all the way from Italy. And they’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen in my life.