relayed the message to my array of soldiers and the Irish.
“Oh shit. Here we go again,” Lucky muttered. “Stay fuckin’ frosty.”
As I passed the dickhole holding the money bag, I drew my weapon. The sound of my shot ricocheted across the otherwise deserted compound, and all hell broke loose in an instant.
I grabbed the cash case I’d shot free from the chain then plugged the money man in the chest.
Bullets zipped all around me, sparking off the night and turning everything into flash bang.
Above the sudden commotion, I heard Kelly shout, “Jesus Christ! I though Jo was supposed to be the hothead.”
Close to one of the vans, I spun, crouched, and fired off another round.
Grigor tossed me an AK, and I shouldered the automatic weapon. At the vanguard of my soldiers, I faced a charge of Italians.
Zing, zing, zing.
Bullets snapped and zipped from both sides.
Shots fired into the sides of the vans and dropped more than a few Sicilians.
More bullets shattered the glass of that asinine limo.
Through the murder and mayhem, I saw Don Sabato climbing into the back of his ride, running from danger.
Another gunshot hummed right past my ear.
The bullet came from the pizda who’d first confronted me.
That asshole dodged my hail of shots as the sound of police sirens wailed across the air.
Crackling gunfire competed with the blare of sirens.
With a jerk of my head, I ordered everyone into the vehicles.
Time to get away before the cops showed up on the scene.
I might’ve had some influence over Boston’s finest given all of our bribes, but I didn’t want to get caught with a smoking gun, a handful of dead Italians, and vans full of black-market weapons.
We made tracks from Robbie O’Sullivan’s shithouse, one of the Irish brothers crowing loudly and blasting more bullets into the Sicilians who still weren’t mobilized.
The Irish did not understand stealth.
Neither did I, apparently. Not at that point. Not when I refused a deal because of Lucia Leone, knowing I recklessly let my stronger emotions take control.
There’d be a reckoning for the woman when I got home.
We hightailed it from the massacre-like scene, but I knew some lived.
Sabato lived.
My phone buzzed as I shifted down so I could drive at the goddamn speed limit instead of running through red lights.
Annoying pretending to be a regular civilian.
I picked up the phone.
It was Lucky.
Good, he was alive.
I answered while keeping one eye on the road ahead and another on the rearview mirror. “Da.”
“Dude. Are you sure you wanted to do that?”
“I made the only decision possible.”
“It’s a woman. I knew it!” That was either Kelly or Dex shouting from the Jeep.
“No comment as you Americans say,” I muttered.
“Yeah well, next time give us a little heads up before you decide to go all Terminator like that.” Lucky didn’t sound all that pissed off.
“Did you all get out in one piece?”
“Dex got shot in the crotch,” the oldest O’Sullivan said.
“Fuck you!” That had to be Dex I heard. “My dick has always and will always be fucking magical. Ain’t no Italian bastards gonna shoot my cock off.”
“We’re good.” Lucky chuckled. “Besides, that was the most fun I’ve had since the Yakuza. But you might just owe us for this one.”
The rush of killing, the push of adrenaline pounding through my system, made me impatient to get back to Lucia.
But I would not put a woman first. Especially not one like her. She had become a liability the moment I’d happened across her in that alleyway.
It was only after I made sure to safeguard the weapons at the Bratva compound that I drove home.
The only reason the woman still lived was because I’d intervened.
The only reason Lucia wasn’t going to be bartered away to an elderly corpse of a man was because I kept her in my custody.
Was she safe from me?
Nyet.
I’d busted up the deal deliberately.
I’d now put the Bratva in danger of retaliation.
I had acted impulsively because of the beauty waiting at my house.
Had not heard from Maksim, which I took to be a good sign that all had gone well. At least that was something considering the way I’d just blown up a potential revenue stream.
The only bonus was that I had the money and the machine guns.
Would deal with the consequences tomorrow.
As soon as I entered the house, Maksim met me in the entryway. “She was crying.”
“What?” I asked.
He stood there, a frown making deep marks in his brow. “I heard her crying.”
I wondered briefly if my brother had gone soft.
Brushing past him