Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Doubt…
Was this too hard?
Was it too dangerous?
Reckless, even?
I didn’t want to believe any of the above.
“I don’t think he’s coming back,” Cesare continued, his vodka loosely in his grip. “He mumbled something about…”
I was interested in hearing everything he had to say. Felix was important to our crew. But the view from down the hall kept me deaf to the rest of my cousin’s sentence. One by one, three men entered Amanda’s, looking left and right. With rifles in their grasp, they fixed their gaze on me. They lifted them up to their chests, their weapons’ stocks pressed into their shirts. Shock widening my eyes, I thrust my arms forward. I grabbed Cesare and Leonardo by the collar of their shirts and yanked them down and leaned forward.
Screams starting to fill the hall, I ducked under the table, my forehead grazing its corner. I crouched to fit my big frame, Cesare’s right hand coming into view. Using his left one to cock his gun, I reached down to my waist for my own. I pulled it out of my belt and took a deep breath, bullet crackles torturing my ears. I jerked back and looked over the edge of that table. Those three were getting closer. At about ten yards away, in the faint illumination, they were nearing the pool table. Fire spewing from their rifles, their fire was shattering glasses and bottles all around us. One of their bullets hitting Leonardo’s beer bottle, chunks of glass were ejected across. A larger one missed my cheek by a hair, my gut reaction was to duck back down.
No.
Hell, no.
I wasn’t going to die hiding.
I was going to go standing on my feet. Not crouching under a table like a terrified kid.
I threw one last glance at Cesare and Leonardo. Their sides against their chairs, they were peeking over their top, their guns pointing up at the ceiling. Cesare threw his arm forward, before his weapon hurled four bullets in quick succession. He yanked his arm back and stole a glance at me.
That emotion in his eyes…
That fear dictated my next move.
I gripped the side of the table and knocked it over. Rolling away from my spot, it came to a halt with its top facing our wannabe killers. I dropped to the deck, a bullet getting lodged into the leg of the couch I’d been sitting on when those three barged in. I bent both elbows and crawled forward, before looking up at those three. Two of them were side by side on the right of the pool table. Their partner was closer, his gaze on Leonardo. That huge figure and his clean-shaven face were too familiar for me to make a mistake. This was Rocco DeLuca, the so-called head of Owens-Roselli’s security…
I raised my arm over the edge of the table and rested my wrist on the wood, knowing I was just seconds away from taking him out.
Yet, just as he crushed some chunks of glass under his shoe, I felt I was having a déjà vu.
A tremendous blast rocked the bar to its foundations. Light fixtures, tables and even the pool table were blasted away and into the far wall as a fireball roared across the hall. My body was picked up like it was a leaf. Caught in the shockwave, I was blown several feet to the right. My left arm smashed down into the floor, and I rolled across glass and chunks of wood alike. One of those splinters was lodged into the palm of my hand, a loud buzz rising in my ears. I wound up lying on my back, moans of agony lacing the atmosphere. I could hear some behind me, my eyes on Cesare and Leonardo. Cesare had tumbled to his chest, a large cut across his forehead. Leonardo was on his side, his head thrown back as he clutched his knee. His beige shirt had large chunks of fabric missing from it, while his forearms were completely bare. Blood was dripping down his right one, having reached his wrist.
I looked down at myself, only to find that my pants had been ripped to shreds as well. There was also a large hole in my red shirt, right over the stomach. Feeling moisture on my thigh, I spotted cuts in my flesh. My blood had soaked what remained of my pants and was dripping on the floor.
“Get the fuck out…”
My ears picked up a faint, yet clear, male voice. Whizzing and gasps made me look back. Those three emerged from the smoke, staggering. Stepping on broken glass and wood, they moved away. The little light coming through the hole in the wall, didn’t help me make out much. I pressed my forearm to my nose to shield myself from the smoke, noticing a figure on all fours crawl through that hole. Bits of his ripped, grayish jacket hanging over either side of his back, I identified him. Rocco DeLuca… Letting out a cry of pain, he disappeared in the dark. With his comrades following suit, I headed towards Leonardo. By then, he had rolled on his back, his mouth wide open to release all the agony that had been plaguing him.