Chapter 7 - The Anchor and the Armor
The gunshots were deafening inside the enclosed steel warehouse.
The mercenary holding the cigarette crumpled to the floor instantly, hit twice in the chest. The second mercenary barely had time to draw his weapon before Victor’s third bullet caught him in the shoulder, throwing him backward against a crate.
Luciano Vane dove behind a stack of wooden pallets, drawing his sidearm and firing blindly back toward us.
“Go!” Victor roared at me, stepping out into the open to draw Luciano’s fire. “Get Finn!”
I didn't hesitate. I sprinted across the open concrete, throwing my body over Finn’s small form just as another bullet ricocheted off the steel floor near my feet.
“Harper!” Finn shrieked, burying his face into the neck of my jacket.
“I’m here! I’m here, baby, I’m here!” I cried, my hands trembling violently as I pulled a pocket knife Victor had given me from my coat and began frantically cutting the duct tape around his ankles and wrists.
“You came!” Finn sobbed, his little arms instantly wrapping around my neck like an iron vise the second the tape snapped. “You promised!”
“I promised,” I wept, kissing his wet forehead, his curls, his red cheek. “I will never leave you. Never.”
Behind us, a brutal firefight raged.
Victor was moving like a man possessed, advancing on Luciano’s position, his gun barking in steady, lethal rhythms. Luciano was screaming curses, backing away toward an emergency exit at the rear of the warehouse.
“Victor Rossi!” Luciano screamed, firing his last rounds. “You think you win?! I killed your wife, and I’ll kill your—”
BANG!
Victor didn't let him finish the sentence.
He stepped up to the pallet where Luciano was hiding and fired a final shot.
Silence descended over the warehouse, broken only by the loud hum of the industrial fans and the sound of my own ragged breathing.
Victor stood over Luciano’s body for three seconds. Then he dropped his empty weapon onto the concrete.
He turned around.
A dark, heavy red stain was spreading across the left side of Victor’s white dress shirt, right near his ribs. He was swaying on his feet.
“Victor!” I screamed, holding Finn tightly against my hip as I stood up.
Victor stumbled forward two steps, his face ghostly pale, before dropping to his knees on the cold concrete.
“Dad!” Finn cried, slipping out of my arms and running toward his father.
Victor caught Finn with his good arm, pulling the boy violently against his chest, burying his face in Finn’s dark curls.
“My boy...” Victor choked out, tears finally breaking through his icy exterior, streaming down his blood-spotted face. “My sweet boy... I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...”
Finn wrapped his tiny arms around Victor’s neck. “Dad... you’re bleeding!”
I dropped to my knees beside them, pressing my hands firmly against the gunshot wound in Victor’s side. Dark, hot blood pumped through my fingers.
“Hold on,” I sobbed, pulling the silver whistle from around my neck.
I put it to my lips and blew with all the strength left in my lungs.
A sharp, piercing sound echoed through the warehouse, shattering the quiet.
Seconds later, the heavy steel doors of the warehouse were smashed open. Marco and ten armed Rossi guards burst inside, weapons drawn.
“Medical team!” Marco roared into his radio when he saw Victor on the floor. “The Boss is hit! Get the paramedics in here now!”
Victor’s hand slowly reached up, his blood-stained fingers wrapping around mine where I was pressing against his wound.
He looked at me, his grey eyes hazy, but filled with a peace I had never seen in him before.
“You kept your promise,” he whispered softly.
May you like
“So did you,” I wept, leaning down and pressing my forehead against his. “Now stay alive. That’s an order, Victor Rossi.”
A faint, breathless smile touched his lips before his eyes closed and his head slumped onto my shoulder.
