Patriot and his Secret Baby (The Rossi Family Mafia Book 1) (16 page)

“So you hurt both of our girls then?” Mr. Rossi stepped forward. Something in his face had gone from questioning to sure and I knew at that moment I was fucked. My hand flew behind me and I ducked behind a bench into the garage. As soon as I had moved a finger, they reached for their own hidden guns. They fired on the spot I had just been. Bullets hit the back wall, busting holes in the building. I wasn’t looking forward to the repairs if I lived through this.

Quickly, I moved deeper into the garage. There was a back door that I could flee toward if I needed to. For now, cover was what I wanted.
 

There was an old beater near the back of the garage that had been my Dad’s pet project for years. Keeping alert, I quickly made my way over, staying as low as I possibly could. I could hear the sounds of leather shoes hitting the gravel, they were getting in place near the entrance of the opening. When I had the cover from the car, I breathed a sigh of relief. There was a straight shot to the door, so as long as I kept them off I would have cover to flee if I ran out of bullets.

Suddenly, Matteo popped out from the entrance and started shooting at me. One whizzed past my head and I returned his fire to make him duck back behind the wall. As soon as he left, his father replaced him, firing at me.
 

I grimaced and ducked. Two against one. At least it was a fair fight.
 

Another barrage of bullets sprayed the back wall. When I looked up next, Matteo had entered the garage and took cover near the bench. This was my chance. I didn’t want to kill the guy, so I aimed low. He was able to scramble away as soon as I pulled the trigger.
 

Mr. Rossi moved next and I hesitated to take the shot. Even with a gun in his hand, that man was the grandfather to my child. Being soft was going to leave me dead on the floor of the garage, so I shot in his direction, then swept my gun back over to keep Matteo down. I was going to have to take one of them out hand-to-hand, so my attention wasn’t split 180 degrees. My feet shuffled, over toward Matteo, I knew about him and his fighting style, so it was the safer choice. I ducked my head so neither could get a good shot, then quickly crawled over toward the younger man. I had to do this right if I wanted to live through the next couple minutes. Letting myself pause at the end of the car, I took a deep breath before turning around and taking three shots and then rolling forward.
 

Matteo was caught off guard, having no place to get clear cover. I didn’t want to kill him so I aimed at his feet. He shot at me, but after one bullet, he was out of shots. He swore and reached for more ammo, but we both knew it was too late. I hit him upside the head with the butt of my gun. He fell to the ground, groaning from the injury. His pistol was on the floor next to him. I picked it up and reloaded it, then looked for Mr. Rossi.
 

For an old man he was quick. As soon as he noticed my gaze stray from Matteo he was at the other end of the old beater. Fuck, he was closer than I thought.
 

“Your son is down,” I yelled. “If you want him to live, give up your weapon.” No, I wasn’t going to kill the guy, but disarming him was worth a shot.
 

“Do it,” the man yelled back, “and your death will be slow.”

This guy wasn’t messing around. It was possible that I could kill his son, but he called my bluff. I gritted my teeth and took aim.
 

When he rose from the car to shoot at me, I fired, barely missing his ear. He didn’t waver and shot back. One bullet cut through my shirt and grazed my arm. Red started to bleed through my shirt, but I paid it and the pain no heed.
 

WAM.

I felt a foot connect with my stomach. This time, the pain was too great for me to ignore. Matteo had regained consciousness and sent his foot flying from below. I doubled over and swore. No. This was it. A second of showing weakness was the difference between living and dying when you were at war.
 

Home was supposed to be the place where I could relax and not worry about being killed. However, this place was more dangerous than the desert of Afghanistan. There was no way I was dying here.

I tried to straighten myself, but this time my face was met with a fist. My body turned and hit the ground. The gun went off, but the bullet lodged into the ceiling.
 

Matteo slammed his foot into my wrist and pressed it into the concrete. If he applied any more pressure, it would break. My fingers instinctively let go of the gun and he grabbed it from me.
 

“Got ‘em boss,” Matteo said, a cocky grin on his face. He aimed the gun straight for my face. “Should I kill him?”

 
His father casually walked from behind the car, placing the gun back in its holster near his armpit.

“Go ahead. But we’ll need to get some men to clean the mess up.” With that, he turned and started walking out of the garage.

Above me, Matteo cocked the gun and aimed straight between my eyes.

“This is for my sister,” he growled.
 

I braced myself for the end.
 

“Wait!” A voice called from outside of the garage, “Don’t shoot him! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
 

It was the voice of the club owner, Luca.
 

“Jesus Christ, what are you two, animals?”

I saw him now in the garage, his shiny leather shoes gleamed in the light of the setting sun.

“He pulled a gun on us, he’s definitely our guy.”

“Really?” Luca said, giving his brother a push. Matteo lowered his gun, and my head fell back in relief.
 

“Please tell me,” the man went on, “what evidence do you have that he was the one who cut the wire, hmm? Could it be that he was scared shitless that two thugs
―
yes, Father, THUGS, showed up at his place of work?”

“I will not be disrespected by my own son.” His father hissed from the front of the garage. My eyes looked from the fighting family members to the back door. It was only a few feet away. If I made a run for it and was able to get out, I could run into the forest and have a good lead on them. The hills around the area was rough and I was used to rocky terrain. If I could get down to the diner at the other side of the forest, I could probably catch a ride out of this shit-hole of a town. A pang of guilt hit me. Rosa, what about her? Would I just up and leave her, or would we still be able to get married?
 

At this point, I just wanted to live through her family. As they bickered over me, I slowly made my way over toward the door. I stayed in the ground and slid using my hands. I would have to time it perfectly, maybe push one of the brothers into the other to create a distraction so they wouldn’t be able to shoot me right off the bat.
 

"This is none of your business, Luca," Matteo yelled. "Get out of my face and let me finish this!"

Only a few more feet and I'd be able to kick at Luca's shins. I froze when Matteo motioned over to me with his gun.

"Yes, Luca, you have other work to do." their father said. You could tell by his voice that his patience was running thin. The man twisted around and shook his head.

"Okay, I'm seeing something here that you both are missing. If
―
and that's a BIG IF
―
my guy here is the one who messed with Regina's car, what is his motive? Hrm? Getting a piece of lead put between his eyes? Don't you think it's rather strange that he'd do something like that without some amount of coaxing?"

The wheels in their mind were starting to turn and the men looked unsure. Mr. Rossi walked up to the two men, rubbing one of his temples with his hand.

"You are both giving me a headache," he grumbled. The oldest twin placed his hands on his hips and gave his father an incredulous look. They stared each other down for a second, a battle of wills going on in their expressions. Finally, Mr. Rossi's shoulders slumped a bit. He caved.

"Fine, fine. Take him to warehouse 3 and deal with the interrogation there," he told Matteo. For a second, they all had their backs facing me. This was my time to shine.
 

With all my might, I kicked out and caught Luca in the shin, sending him flying into his father. They yelled out in surprise, but I paid them no attention. All I could see was the door. That was freedom from whatever twisted things they had in mind for me. It was my only option.
 

Scrambling, I got to my feet and bolted for the wooden door. When I got to it I tried the handle, it was locked. Getting it open would be as easy as turning the deadbolt, but those were precious seconds I did not have. In any case, I turned the lock and gave the door a tug, only to have hands grab me from behind before I could get the door open.
 

They pushed me to the ground and I grunted as several kicks hit me in the stomach. I curled into the fetal position on the ground, unable to fight back. They were yelling at each other again, but I couldn't understand anything they were saying, all my body was focusing on was protecting itself from the beating it was receiving. Fuck. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to break for it.

The kicks were relentless, from more than one of them. I yelled out in pain as one of them hit my kidneys with so much force I was starting to see stars in my vision.  Just as the pain seemed like too much, I felt a sharp jab to my head.
 

Everything went black.

I floated in and out of consciousness.
When I woke up, everything was still dark. For a second, I thought that the hit to the head had left me blinded. However, I noticed after a few deep breaths that it was actually a cloth that had been placed over my head. A dark sack was over my face and I had no idea where I was or how much time I had left.
 

The place I had been hit on the head was throbbing. If I lived through this, there'd probably be a huge bump on my head for days. I couldn't even begin to imagine the bruising I had received on my stomach and sides. My head lifted and I tried to move my body. I was sitting upright, slumped on a chair. My legs were tied to the chair and my hands were bound behind me. I wiggled them, trying to see if I could get free if I positioned my arms or legs differently.
 

It was no use. As I wiggled I realized that I had been quickly bound by zip-ties, but it would take a while to get out of them, if I could do it. A feeling of cool air brushed against my skin, I realized that they had stripped me down to my wife beater and underwear. Being exposed like that made me even more uncomfortable, they wanted to tell me that they were in charge, that they had the power to strip me of anything, including my life.

As I tried to find my bearings and get out of my restraints, the black bag that covered my face was pulled up over my head. Right in front of me was Matteo. I blinked and winced as my eyes adjusted to the fluorescent light in the room. The man in front of me was sitting in a metal chair, similar to the one I was in. He looked tired and had a cigarette in his mouth. Matteo placed the bag on a table next to him, then took a drag from his cigarette. A cloud of smoke filled my face and I closed my eyes so they wouldn't water.
 

When the cloud had passed, I looked around at my surroundings. I was in a large warehouse that looked like it had been in disuse for a long time. The windows had been blacked out with paint, and there were large crates covered in tarps. It was large enough to fit a 747, but most of the space was empty. There was an upper floor, with a walkway that lead to an exit, probably to the roof or another adjacent building. Other than the two large doors in the front, there were no places close enough for me to get away. Even if I did try to get away, I didn't know if the place was guarded from the outside.
 

I strained to see if there was anyone else in the place. As I turned my head, I saw a figure standing on a far hallway, arms crossed against his chest. It was the club owner, Luca. He had saved my life and why, I didn't know. He watched with a worried brow from the sidelines, which didn't seem like a good sign.

"You aren't going to escape," Matteo said as he positioned himself closer to me. He took another puff from his cigarette, then held it between his fingers. "So you shouldn't bother trying."

His hand slowly lowered itself with the lit cigarette. The ember stopped an inch away from my thigh. My body was bracing itself for the pain, but it didn't come. Matteo stared into my eyes.

"Let's make this clear. Tonight you're my bitch. You'll do as I say and tell me the truth. Is that clear?"
 

Bitch? Bitch, I was not. I knew what was going to happen, even if I had nothing to hide. Matteo looked like he had been waiting years for the opportunity to tear me apart, piece-by-piece, for little more than being a dumb high-school kid. The side of my mouth twitched, but I didn't reply to him.

Matteo kicked the metal chair, making me lurch in my seat. The sound of the metal legs scratching against the floor echoed the vast room.
 

"I said," he growled, "is that clear?"
 

"Crystal," I muttered back through gritted teeth.  That seemed to be enough for him. He took another few drags from his cigarette and coughed out a large plume of smoke at me.
 

"Great. Now, who are you working for?" He waited for my answer.
 

"Hermann and Son's Auto Repair," I replied. "Previously the Marine Corps. Just retired
―
Ah!"
 

That bastard had pressed the burning cigarette into my thigh, searing my skin underneath. It was uncomfortable, to say the least.
 

"I don't like it when people lie to me, Lance." He said my name with such disdain, like it was some hideous word that he'd rather not have pass through his mouth.
 

"I'm not lying."

He glanced at his cigarette and re-lit it, having put out the ember on my thigh. It had left a nasty red mark on my skin. He took another breath of smoke in, then lowered the tip toward the skin on my other thigh.