any problems with Joaquin and she’s far too young…too immature…for this lifestyle. Do yourself a favor and forget her.”
Easy for him to say.
She isn’t under his skin.
“Rocco!”
At the sound of Violet calling my name, I push out of my chair. My uncle arches an eyebrow but I fix him with a glare. For the first time I don’t pretend to have it all together. I take a fucking stand against him.
“I can’t,” I say evenly.
More importantly, I don’t want to.
It’s a good thing too, because the moment I turn around, I’m greeted with the distinct sound of gunfire.
Chapter 9
Rocco Spinelli
Violet rushes into the room and barely crosses the threshold before I hear the pop, pop, pop of several guns going off. At the sound of the gunfire, one of Uncle Vic’s bodyguards grabs him and ushers him out of the room, into the kitchen. Springing into action myself, I order her to get under the table and reach for my gun. She doesn’t move, she just stands there, staring at the doorway in a state of shock.
“Now, Violet! Get the fuck under the table and don’t fucking move!” I shout, pulling back the safety on my gun.
She screams.
She cries.
She begs God to protect her brother.
For me to help him.
For no one to die.
Then she falls to her knees and sobs.
“Joaquin…”
“Will fucking die if I don’t get out there and help him,” I grind out. “Now get under the damn table!”
That seems to get her ass in gear, and I watch her crawl on her hands and knees under the table. Once she’s completely out of sight, I charge into the hallway, my gun cocked and my finger on the trigger. Uncle Vic’s other guard follows closely and as soon as we hit the hallway we start shooting.
One bullet.
Two.
I shoot and shoot until my clip is empty, then I bend and pull another gun from the holster around my leg. The scent of gunpowder fills my nostrils and my eyes strain to focus against the cloud of smoke as I pull the trigger repeatedly. I don’t even know what the fuck I’m shooting at, but I don’t fucking stop until there is blood splattered on the walls and bodies lining every inch of the hallway.
When the gunfire finally starts to die, I hear a guttural scream rip from the back of Joaquin’s throat. My gut clenches and my first thought is that he’s been hit, but as the smoke begins to clear, I take in the carnage and find Joaquin on his knees, covered in blood, cradling Pilar’s body.
Before I can make any sense of how she got caught up in all of this or why she was even here in the first place, I hear Violet scream from the other room. I lower my gun and run back into the private room. Making my way to the table, I crouch down and lift the tablecloth. My eyes lock with hers and a sob slips past her lips as she quickly crawls toward me. Cupping her cheeks, I take in the tears that stream her face and the fear in her eyes. Bending my head, I press my lips to her forehead and gather her in my arms.
My lips touch her ear and I whisper, “It’s okay, it’s all over. I’ve got you, Bug.”
She pulls back and lifts her chin. Her lips tremble as she cries, “My brother…”
“He’s alive,” I say hoarsely. I have no idea if she even knows about Pilar, much less that her brother was in love with her, but she’s about to find out because any minute now this place is going to be full of cops and if I don’t get us out of here quickly, we’re all going to be fucked.
Drawing in a ragged breath, I brush the blonde hair away from Violet’s face and cradle her face in my hands.
“I need you to listen to me, Bug. We need to get out of here and we need to move quick.” I pause, taking in the horror-filled expression that fills her face and I bite back a curse, knowing the second she steps into that hallway and sees her brother holding Pilar, she’s going to be traumatized. That there will be no coming back from that. No fucking recovery.
I pull her to her feet and roughly comb my fingers through my hair, trying to decide what to do. The clock ticks and lives hang in the balance of my decision.