I stare at the gun in his hand and wait for it to lower, but it doesn’t. He presses the barrel beneath my chin and uses it to force me to look at him. My eyes widen and my heart quickens.
“But the worst part of it is,” he sighs, “you think I’m a moron, too.”
I cry out when he grabs my hair and yanks my head back. He raises the gun and shoots past me. Shards of glass from the mirror rain down and clatter on the counter and sink.
I thrash and manage to see Settimo behind me, still in one piece. His pant leg is lifted, revealing a gun, but he didn’t make it in time. He stands straight with his hands raised and glares at Nikita. It’s too bad looks can’t kill.
“Take it out, place it on the ground, and kick it toward me.”
22
SETTIMO
Nikita pushes the gun into my back, and I stumble into Alex. She hurries into the sanctuary but pauses when she sees who’s there.
“Paolo,” she says, her voice a dreadful whisper.
He sits on the first pew, next to Lorenzo. Ivan stands to the side with a gun trained on the both of them. Lorenzo has a few bumps and bruises, but otherwise looks okay. One of Paolo’s eyes is swollen shut, and he looks like he took a pretty good beating.
“Jesus, woman, how many boyfriends do you have?” Nikita pushes me forward, and I curl my lip and stiffen. Every moment that gun is aimed at me is a painful reminder of who has the upper hand, and the temptation to fix that is overwhelming. Alex is the only thing keeping me from whirling on him just at the chance that gun will go off in his direction.
That’s something Nikita and I have in common. I’d rather lose than watch him win. I’d ratherdiethan let him win.
I place a hand on Alex’s back and gently prod. “It’s all right.”
She hurries to Paolo and inspects his injuries as if that will do any good. He brushes her off him and shifts, and she pauses but then sits on the pew between the two men. Lorenzo drapes his arm over the pew behind her back, and I know him well enough to be suspicious of it. It looks like he’s comforting her, but my guess is he’s hiding something.
Our eyes lock and he nods at me, his face blank as if this is any other day.
I walk until I’m a few feet in front of them, then Nikita jabs the gun in my back again. My nostrils flare.
“Is all this necessary, you fucking drama queen? You couldn’t just kill me?”
Pain explodes in my head when Nikita crashes the butt of the gun against my skull. My body makes a thump when I land, and I groan, my face scrunching.
“No!” Alex screams.
“Sit the fuck down!” My eyes are shut, but I can feel it when Nikita turns the gun on her. I can feel her terror, see it on her face.
“You’re a monster,” she says, her voice breaking.
“Alex, come on.” It’s Paolo’s voice this time, and I open my eyes just enough to watch him usher her back to sitting and wrap his arms around her. Lorenzo remains impassive, his arm still draped over the pew. He slides toward them so Alex conceals part of his hand again.
I bite down and force myself onto my knees, shooting pain like a lightning bolt coming from my skull.
“I have a question.”
I blink and look at Lorenzo, whose eyes are set on Nikita.
I feel Nikita stiffen behind me. “Does it look like you’re in a position to ask—”
“Why is Paolo here?”
A second passes before Nikita steps around me. “Watch him,” he growls at Ivan and points to me. He walks up to Lorenzo and grabs his hair, yanking his head back and bending his neck. Lorenzo moves his hands in front of him, and I search them.
Nothing. They’re empty.
“Sometimes,” Nikita says, his voice low and menacing. “I think you might be worse than your brother.” He snaps Lorenzo’s head forward before letting go and taking a step back. He gestures toward Paolo and turns to lock eyes with me. He smiles when he sees the rage bursting from my face.