a game.
I wasn't going to be a pawn anymore.
I was done playing. The fucking waltz my father had me playing was going to end—and the final one-two-three would be mine.
Hunter reached up, his eyes hardening, and grasped my hand. The one that had wound itself inside the fabric of his shirt. “Understood. Boss.”
I tugged him toward me, my lips curving up. “That's Principessa to you, Cacciatore.”
His hand wrapped around the back of my neck. “In that case, doubly understood, Principessa.”
I glanced up and met his eyes. “Good.”
Our lips were dangerously close when I heard, “Fucking hell. She's Alexandria two-point-oh.”
I jerked back from Hunter and looked at Isaiah. I looked at his hands, but he wasn't holding any kind of weapon. In fact, he looked relieved. “I don't understand.”
He grinned. “Dar.”
Darien appeared from behind him, and in that moment, they looked like twins. He sighed and sadness glinted in his gaze. “Twenty-two years ago, when you were no more than a baby, your mother's reign over the family was questioned. She couldn't perform her full duties as head of the family with a baby. She needed to marry your father, and you know what she did, bambina?” He smiled. “She pinned your father to the wall, a gun to his neck, and demanded he married her.”
“And he did,” Isaiah continued. “He had no choice. He married her in that moment, or she swore she'd shoot him. And despite this one's skills,” he cocked a thumb toward Hunter, “if you wanted to kill him, I'd have no doubt you'd have that gun out of that bag and to his head quicker than he could draw his.”
I snapped my eyes from Isaiah to Hunter. His hand was at his hip, and I elbowed him before snatching the very same pistol he'd just tried to grip. I aimed it at his breastbone, and he held his arms up to the sound of both Darien and Isaiah's raucous laughter.
“You won't shoot it,” Hunter says with a quiet laugh.
“Won't I?” My words were like stone, and he stilled as my finger tightened over the trigger. “Maybe I'm not like you. Maybe I'm stronger.”
Hunter reached out and wrapped his fingers around the barrel of the gun. “So do it.”
A gunshot fired.
I lied.
Several fired.
My heart stopped.
My world shattered like a glass.
Blood and tears streamed.
Hunter knocked the gun from my hand and pulled me to the ground. I gasped as my chest hit the carpet, but he reached forward and pressed a finger to his lips as several other shots rang out.
“Get up and run,” he ordered, tugging at me. He snatched up the pistol and tugged me behind me. “Fuck, Is, run!” he yelled, shoving me.
I understood.
I grabbed the bag and ran.
I ran like fucking hell down the hall.
Hunter followed, his arm outstretched, bullets firing from his gun.
“Dar—Isaiah,” I breathed.
“I don't know. Just fucking run!” his voice was so loud it echoed, louder than the shots that echoed off the walls.
I whimpered as I saw a bullet ricochet off the hallway wall, millimeters from where I'd just been standing. Hunter's arm flew out and slammed into me. I barely stayed on my feet long enough to pull the 9mm out of my bag and shoot it.
I watched as the bullet pierced the chest of a man in black and he dropped to the floor.
“Addy,” Hunter rasped, “Can we get out?”
I looked around. We'd backed into my room. “Yes.”
“Then get us the fuck out.”
I grabbed his arm and pulled him to the window. I shot at the door when I heard Darien yell, followed by a gunshot. My heart tightened, but Hunter shoved the glass pane open before I could yell my annoyance.
He jumped out onto the garage roof and held his hand out for me. I had no choice, so I grasped the rucksack tightly and followed him out. I stopped to shut the window after me, and he said nothing as he jumped off the rood and tucked his gun into his hip.
I put my own pistol back inside the bag, clicking the safety on before I did, and jumped into his arms.
He caught me, lowering me to the ground softer than I would have expected, and placed a helmet on top of my head quickly.
Oh fuck me.
Chapter Twelve - Hunter
She looked terrified.
The bravado and determination she'd shown just minutes ago had quickly morphed into a 'fucking run' instinct that radiated from her with her fear. Her bright blue eyes were wide with shock, as though she