A flash of silver. Oh God.
I scream when I realize the bar jerk has a blade in his hand. He slashes, but my scream’s warned my rescuer. He easily dodges the blade, then slams his knee into the man’s belly.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” my rescuer says with a growl that makes my hair stand on end. “Stupid motherfucker.”
Undeterred, bar guy slashes again with his knife. The man in the suit grabs his wrist. There’s an audible snap and a howl of pain.
Oh, God. He just... he broke his wrist as if it were a stick. Just… snap. I watch in horror as he grabs the knife from the man’s hand, and with the expert grace of someone way, way too skilled with a knife, slices straight across the asshole’s throat. There’s a terrible gurgling sound as blood gushes over my attacker’s hands, painting him in a sheet of crimson.
Shaking his head, my rescuer shoves him to the ground then steps casually back is if preserving his shoes. It’s all so… matter-of-fact.
No. What? No.
I cover my mouth in speechless horror.
This isn’t happening. No, this isn’t happening.
One minute, they’re fighting. The next, my protector—my murdering felon ex-con protector—wipes the blade and shoves it into his pocket. He holds my gaze and points at me to stay in place while he whips his phone out of his pocket. I couldn’t move if I wanted to.
“Got a situation in the back. Send Leo and Tavi.” He steps over the man’s body and glares at me. “You alright?” He’s walking toward me. I just saw him slice a man’s throat. I back up until I hit the wall. I nod dumbly.
I look down at my torn clothing and see, to my surprise, that I’m still okay.
“Yeah,” I whisper.
“Good,” he says coldly. His voice is raspy like he hasn’t spoken in months. He brushes a thumb over my swollen lip gently, so it doesn’t hurt. My skin heats. He shakes his head.
“This never happened. If I hear even a whisper on the breeze about this unfortunate turn of events, I promise that whatever this fucker was going to do to you will seem pleasant compared to what I’ll do. Do you understand?”
I nod so hard I’m dizzy.
He releases me, and I stumble. He reaches for my arm, only to give me a little shove. “Good. Now get the fuck out of here.”
Chapter Two
"What, drawn, and talk of peace?” ~ Romeo and Juliet
Romeo
Goddammit.
My father always told me my penchant for looking out for pretty girls would one day get me in trouble. And now, he’s right. I hate when he’s right.
Dio.
Tavi and Leo shake their heads at me when I quickly fill them in. Leo, my dad’s youngest brother and one of the highest in rank with us here tonight, looks like he wants to shake some sense into me. If I were younger and not in line to take over as Boss, he’d kick my ass. Tavi, on the other hand, has no such compunctions.
My brothers speak three languages: English, Italian, and Violence.
“For the love of fucking God, Rome,” Tavi grumbles, making a fist. His dark brown hair’s grown longer since I was in the big house, almost shadowing his eyes from me, but not so much I don’t see the way they’re narrowed.
“He tried to rape an innocent woman,” I mutter. As if I have to explain myself to them. As if my family fucking cares.
“Was she your fucking sister?” Leo mutters.
“No,” I say through gritted teeth. “If she was, he’d still be alive so I could cut off his nuts and make him bleed out.” If I was feeling generous.
Leo stares at me for a few seconds, then grins at me. He’s got my dad’s salt-and-pepper hair and the chilling blue-gray eyes my family’s known for. If it weren’t for his nose that’s been broken too many times to count, I’d sometimes think I was staring at a younger version of my father.
Leo cuffs me good-naturedly. “Good to have you back, bro. Go. Get the fuck out of here. Go home. This never happened. We’ll get rid of this. Last thing you need—”
“I know, I know.” One more reason to go back to prison.
Tavi’s already covered the body and pushed it into the shadows, and three men stand guard by the back door.
Leo’s right.
“Why a fuckin’ knife, Rome?” Tavi asks, as if he’s disappointed in me for not using something better. He’s already putting on gloves to dispose of the body. We’ve got men stationed at every entrance to the back here. No one’s getting through the wall of Rossi.
I shrug a shoulder and light another smoke. Mama doesn’t like me smoking in the house but damn, I’ve missed it. I’ll quit. But not tonight.
“He pulled it on me, I turned it on him.” My brothers know I hate the mess and clumsiness of a blade.