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CHAPTER TWELVE
FRANCO
Kennedy needed to rest. Her fucking father shot her. Not with a handgun. He shot her with an AK-forty-seven. What kind of man attempted to kill his child?
I sent Bonnie and Kennedy’s team to the center of the room.
Kennedy smiled the entire time I dressed her.
“You like this, huh?” I asked.
“Yes, watching my handsome husband down on his hands and knees, tugging my jeans on, then making sure my boots are tied tightly is an absolute turn on.”
I laughed, biting back another wince.
“When we get home, I’ll wait on you hand and foot.”
Her fingers caressed my cheek. “The big bad mafia boss will do that for me?”
“Every day.” I grinned.
If that bullet would’ve hit an inch higher, it would’ve penetrated her skin.
Don’t think about that, Franco.
A few minutes later, I held Kennedy close as Vigo passed out weapons. She could barely stand. That meant her injury was worse than she let on. I couldn’t wait to slaughter her father.
“Before we go into the tunnel. We should take out my father’s men on the grounds. Then we’ll follow the blood trail once we’re in the tunnel.”
Kennedy was right. Taking out her father’s men was a priority. Guess I had tunnel vision. Her father was the only person I had in my sights.
I nodded. “Sounds good.”
“Clip, or Piero, come in.” I barked.
“Yes boss,” Clip stated.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“In the tunnel. We ran into Quinn. He’s with us.
“Good, stay put. We’ll be there soon.”
