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“Did you see the piece they’re holding?”
“Yeah, I rarely do fat bitches, but there’s something about her.”
“After the boss and his shadow finish with her, it’s our turn.” A man with slick-backed hair grabs his crotch. “We’ll show her what real men are working with.”
I’ve heard enough. I hurl a blade, lodging it in the man’s throat.
One.
Before anyone registers what’s happening, Shinji and I rush into the room. I dodge a swing directed at my head, capture the arm, and snap it at an unnatural angle until the bone breaks through the skin. He screams in pain, and I shove the splintered bone through his throat.
Two.
A flying dart whizzes by my ear to stab a man in the middle of his head. He falls forward with a thud.
Three.
One by one, Shinji and I take out each man, ignoring the pain in our sides and limbs. The last body falls at Shinji’s feet.
Seven.
Other than confiscating our blades and the dead men’s weapons, we don’t waste time dwelling over their deaths. Their bad intentions guaranteed they wouldn’t breathe again. Wequickly search the back rooms, eliminating the enemy as they appear. Once we clear the back rooms of the rundown mattress store, we creep toward the showroom floor.
“And to keep my promise,” Paul’s smug voice grates in my ears before I see him.
Shinji and I speed up while ducking low and out of sight.
“About your open casket, I’ll still honor your request, but not without making you regret living.”
Paul must be mistaken. Lakeisha would never willingly negotiate her death with him while Shinji and I draw breath.
I glance at my husband’s stricken eyes, and recall her farewell. As if an open casket funeral could ever make losing her bearable.
Paul’s smarmy voice reflects a level of sadistic enjoyment as he torments my wife. “In your last moments, I’ll make you ride my gun. I think your bullet-ridden womb will be a wonderful gift, forever memorialized on camera for that asshole family.”
A tall, muscular man blocks my view. Shinji aims while I continue my approach. Lakeshia’s silence reminds me of her catatonic response to Paul. All her training means shit when his presence transports her into a defenseless kitten.
The big man falls, clearing our view. Tomasso’s body lies on top of Lakeshia.
“Why are you loose?” Paul’s panicked gaze bounces between me, Shinji, and the bed where Lakeshia hasn’t budged. “We have a deal. You aren’t supposed to retaliate.”
“We didn’t agree to shit,” Shinji says and shoots at the gun in Paul’s hands.
He drops it and turns to run.
“Not happening asshole.” I throw two stars, taking out his knees.
He drops to the floor. In fear, he crawls toward a door I failed to notice earlier, dragging a trail of blood behind him whilegroaning in pain. “Fucking bastards. I’ll kill every last one of you,” he weeps.
I’m not pressed to go after him. At his speed, I won’t have to run to catch up when I’m ready for him.
“Lakeshia? Can you hear me?” Shinji runs toward the bed where there’s still no movement from her or Tomasso.
Shinji shoves Tomasso off our wife. Blood covers her face, but we can’t tell if it belongs to her.
He cradles her head while wiping her forehead and cheeks, smearing the gore across her skin. She stares in the distance with no recognition, not dissimilar from Tomasso’s gaze with one exception. A spark of life remains in Lakeshia’s eyes. Thanks to the gash in Tomasso’s throat and the blade sticking out, the head of the Giametti family is no longer a threat to anyone.
Before Paul slinks through the exit, Katsuo strolls in followed by his men rushing through the entry to flank him.
