I run to Gabriel’s side and grab the gun, shielding Gabriel with my body while I aim.
The biggest of Felicity’s brutes lunges for me, but I have a millisecond window of opportunity, and I use it.
I don’t give Felicity a chance to hurt Gabriel again. I don’t even give the bitch a chance to speak. I put a bullet in her head and watch as she slumps forward, finally dead. Then the Colombian tackles me, and the gun goes sailing across the room.
She’s dead, I think. Felicity is dead, and Harry and Clara are safe.
So it doesn’t hurt as much when the man on top of me punches me in the face, even though the coppery taste of blood fills my mouth. It could be worse.
“Get off her!” I hear Gabriel slur. He launches himself from the sofa and manages to knock the Cartel thug off me, but the other two quickly descend into the fracas. It’s a small space, and I lose track of who is who and which way is up. I kick and claw and bite at anyone who tries to touch me, and even though I know we are vastly outnumbered and that Gabriel and I are going to die in—of all places—the safest room in the penthouse, I intend to go out fighting.
BANG.
The gunshot is deafening in the small space, and I cry out in surprise. My ears ring.
BANG.
Confusion is the name of the game, especially when the man on top of me stops strangling me and goes limp.
BANG.
I try to heave the man off me, but he’s too heavy. I only succeed in pushing his shoulder away from my face. Silvano is in the doorway, and he shoves his gun into the back of his pants and rushes over to help me.
“I leave you alone for two seconds,” he jokes as I slide out from under the hefty corpse.
I glare at him. Now is not the time.
“Is backup actually here this time?” I say as I get to my feet.
Silvano has already started to lift Gabriel, and I go over to help him.
“They’re here,” he grunts. Gabriel is heavy.
Luckily, Dom and Antonio appear in the doorway, blood splattered across their faces and the front of their white shirts.
“Shit, is he alive?” Dom asks, running over to take my place.
“For now,” I say. “He needs to get to the hospital.” I grab Silvano’s phone from the floor and hand it back to him. “Silvano, go make sure all the injured are taken care of, and I want a list of the dead.” I gesture to Antonio. “You and Dom take Gabriel down to the car. I’m going to grab my phone, and I’ll run down to meet you.”
The men all nod, and Antonio and Silvano switch places and carry Gabriel out of the room. I expected maybe a little pushback from Silvano, who I’m sure is used to assuming the mantle of authority in Gabriel’s absence, but he doesn’t hesitate to start actioning my command.
I run through the penthouse, grimacing at the utter carnage the Cartel have left behind. Blood and broken glass is everywhere. One of the ballroom doors lies in broken splinters on the ground, and I pick my way gingerly through the mess, conscious of the many cuts I have already suffered to my bare feet.
The table where my phone was has been upended, but I manage to find it after only a brief sift through the detritus. I try not to look at the bodies. Silvano will tell me who is dead and who survived soon, and I can’t focus on that right now. Gabriel needs to get to the hospital, and I won’t be the one to hold that up.
I race to the elevator and then through the lobby, attracting concerned stares as I smear bloody footprints across the marble. Antonio and Silvano have just finished loading Gabriel into the SUV, and I hop in next to him. Silvano takes off just as sirens begin to ring in the distance.
I buttress myself against Gabriel, and his head lolls to the side, then rolls forward. He looks up, blinking blearily, as though he has just woken from a bad dream.
“Hey,” I say, turning to face him.
Gabriel smiles at me. It’s a woozy, drunken smile. He has lost a lot of blood.
“Hey, Tiger,” he says.
I hold his face in my hands. “Stay with me. We’re going to be at the hospital soon.”
Silvano is driving like a hellion through traffic. I’m surprised we’re