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“We better,” I growl. Glancing over my shoulder, I order, “Give me a submachine gun and knife.”
Angelo opens the bag and begins to hand out weapons as our convoy race down a dirt road that looks like it’s heading into the woods.
Chapter 39
Damiano
Dirt shoots into the air as we come to a screeching stop in the lot at the front of the property. The house is medium-sized and looks like it hasn’t been painted in the last decade.
There are a dozen armed men scattered around the property, and they open fire on the SUVS while they try to find cover against the sides of the house.
I shove the door open and order, “Launch the fucking grenades!”
Tommy sends a grenade flying into the side of the house where a group of men are taking cover, and bodies fly into the air.
Using the door as a shield, I open fire on the fuckers that are shooting from inside the house, and I have to reload the magazine before I’m able to move away from the SUV. With the submachine gun held in position, I run toward the house while shooting every fucking man I lay eyes on.
My vision tunnels on the front door, and I riddle it with bullets before my body slams into the wood. It gives way easily, and I keep going, taking out target after target until I’m out of fucking bullets.
As I drop the submachine gun so I can reach for my Glock, a body plows into me. I grab the knife from my belt, and before my back even hits the floor, I plunge the knife repeatedly into the side of his neck.
Blood spurts over me, and I slam into the floor with a grunt. Shoving the dead fucker off of me, I quickly dart back to my feet. I move the knife to my left hand and rip the Glock from behind my back.
Carlo and Angelo join me, and while they take out the rest of the men, I hear Renzo shout from outside, “I have Stefano!”
“Keep the fucker alive,” my voice thunders through the house as I hurry from room to room, searching for Gabriella.
When I open a door with stairs leading down to a basement, a bullet slams into my bulletproof vest, forcing me a couple of steps backward.
My arm swings into the air, and I pull the trigger as I move forward.
Another bullet zips past my head just as Carlo grabs hold of the back of my vest, yanking me to crouch on the stairs.
“Stay the fuck down while I take care of the asshole,” Carlo mutters, breathless from all the action.
Reluctantly, I stay crouched as Carlo creeps down the stairs, and when he reaches the bottom, a short gunfight ensues before he takes out whoever’s down there.
“Clear,” he shouts. “Gabriella’s not here.”
“Fuck!” I snarl, and turning around, I run back into the hallway.
“Damiano!” Carlo calls, wanting me to wait for him, but I need to find Gabriella before it’s too late.
Entering a kitchen, I see a back door and head outside. With my gut telling me to head for the trees, I break out into a run.
Don’t let me be wrong. Christ. Please.
My breaths explode over my lips as I run into the woods, and every few steps, I pause to listen for any movement, hoping for confirmation that Filippo’s out here with Gabriella.
Fuck. Am I wrong?
“Move!” I hear a man hiss, and intense relief and anger swirl into a potent mixture in my chest.
Carlo catches up to me as I run in the direction I heard the voice, and I finally catch sight of Filippo as he forces Gabriella to run barefoot through the fucking woods.
“Stop,” she gasps, clutching her side where blood is coating her hand.
Motherfucker!
