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"Time for action," Carlotta replied. She sounded bloodthirsty. In one leap she was on the low porch that ran around the lower rooms, had gained momentum, and placed the kick against the door precise enough that it flew inward with a crash.
I still had time to whistle appreciatively, then the first shot fell. With three big steps I was also inside, took in the situation and then aimed at the guy who was approaching Carlotta from behind.
She just stood over the guy she had whacked so she could give him the final push toward the afterlife.
I pulled the trigger, watched enthusiastically as he slumped to the floor and immediately another guy appeared who could also only be French. Carlotta was already taking care of him, so I headed for the door from which no one had come so far.
It was locked, but even this door did not withstand a well-aimed kick and shattered under the sheer force I exerted. I pushed it open, stepped inside and found myself face to face with the image I had been afraid of.
It wastheFrenchman. He had pulled Gia to her feet, buried his hand in her hair, and pulled her close enough for his gun to rest against her temple.
I didn't need any additional clue to know that he would pull the trigger when it mattered.
So instead of looking at him, my gaze sought Gia's, scanning her face. I didn't miss the split lower lip and the blood, nor the pissed-off expression in her eyes.
"Don't worry, I don't like this anymore than you do," I hissed, pointing the gun at the Frenchman.
He didn't react well to me not paying attention to him, but putting my complete focus on Gia. "You are all going to die!" he roared.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement outside the window. I shook my head. "I'm afraid there will be only one more dead person here today."
As I said this, I continued to look at Gia. Hoping that she understood. Preparing herself for what was about to happen.
I tilted my head in view of the Frenchman's irritation and stood up wider. He hadn't reckoned with the fact that I focused my full attention solely on Gia. Not him.
We didn’t need more communication. The glass pane of the window shattered, a shot fired, and at the same moment, the Frenchman's skull exploded like an overripe melon hitting the ground.
Before I did anything else, I rushed forward and caught Gia, who had taken a step in my direction but was no longer being carried by her legs.
The blood, the violent death of the man both things she could not cope with.
I put a hand to the back of her head, wet with blood, pulled her against me, and at the same moment lifted her up to carry her backwards out of the room so she wouldn't have to look at the carnage Vince had caused with his shot.
Even on the way out, I made sure that nothing of what Carlotta and I had to answer for came into her line of sight.
Only when we had stepped over the threshold and I could set her down and lean her against the wall, did I dare to take another look at her face.
"Please tell me that guy did nothing but beat your lip bloody," I hissed, ready once again to go inside and desecrate his body to get rid of the anger that continued to rage inside me.
Gia shook her head. "I'm fine," she assured me, but not credible.
She was sparing a foot, holding her ribs, and the blood from her lip had spread everywhere. She was also wearing nothing but a thin top and underwear.
I tilted my head, knowing full well that the fuse in my head was about to blow if I noticed one more detail that indicated she was anything but okay.
"My gym bag is still in Nate's car, there should be a pair of leggings in there," Carlotta cut in from behind me. I nodded.
Gia's gaze, however, was on the parking lot. At first I thought she was looking at Vince and Natale, but then I realized the renewed anger in her gaze.
"What?"
"He said that some of his people were coming here to-"
The squealing of tires interrupted her sentence. I reacted without thinking. I pushed Gia back inside, slamming the door behind her. Carlotta yelled for our brother and Natale.
A window next to me shattered as the hail of bullets began. Out here, there was no way to take cover. We were sitting ducks, and that became clear to Carlotta as well when one bullet missed us by a hair's breadth and smashed into the wall behind us.
Plaster rained down on us.
