Dante (31 page)

“Ouch, man.”

“It’s nothing.” Lucian sat back down with a thump, but his heavy exhales said those bullets likely took his breath away.

“Right.”

“Something’s wrong,” Lucian said, taking in a deep breath.

“I agree,” Gio replied, reminding his two brothers he was still there.

“You first?” Lucian asked.

“It’s a countdown,” Gio said simply.

Dante gritted his teeth. “You already told us it was some kind of clock.”

“Yeah, and it’s got almost two and a half minutes left on the clock. Whatever this is must be inside that building, there’s tight security around the coding so that if I even try to touch it, the clock with automatically turn to zero, and …”

“And what?” Dane forced himself to ask.

“I think it’s a bomb,” Gio said. “You guys need to get out of there now.”

“But, John—”

Lucian grabbed Dante’s shirt, shutting him up. “Those cries are a recorded track. It’s on a twenty second loop and it’s being played through several speakers to confuse and bother me. The third time around, I started to pay attention. My son is not in this building.”

Where the fuck was he, then?

Dante blinked, finally understanding. “But we are.”

“Just got back into the camera WiFi,” Gio said. “Oh, look at that. They’re going to make it easy on you.”

“What?” Lucian asked.

“Get down low, roll out, point, and shoot. Easy.” Gio chuckled. “Then run as fast as you fucking can to the front of the building.”

Dante’s brow furrowed. “Why the front?”

“I still think there’s a reason why they made that office look like it was blocked in. Like maybe because someone wanted you right in that area when it went boom. Plus, the front entrance won’t block you in with the blast like the others will. Quit fucking dancing around and let’s move. You’re probably around a minute and fifty or less, now.”

Lucian gave Dante a nod and slid down to his back; Dante did the same. “Find my wife, Gio. If she got in the car, maybe there was a good reason.”

“On it.”

Lucian reached out with a clenched fist. Dante bumped it with his own.

“Two more things,” Gio said.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to disconnect so I can call the guy we have scouting. Maybe he followed the car with Catrina.”

“And?” Lucian asked.

“Yeah, stay alive because I love you, and I don’t want to have to deal with Ma alone for the rest of my life. That kind of shit.”

Dante muffled his laughter into his palm. Typical fucking Gio right there. “You, too, asshole.”

The phone clicked off.

“On three,” Dante told Lucian.

Holding his hand up, Dante flicked up his fingers one at a time. At three, the brothers rolled away from one another and out of their hiding spot behind the fallen crate. Uzi fire lit up the space in front of Dante’s face, slicing through the air in quick succession. Then, his gun emptied its clip and as soon as it did, he could see the fucking fool poking his head around a crate to check on Dante’s whereabouts and weapon.

Immediately, Dante reached behind him to grab the gun he’d taken off the guy from the back, but it wasn’t there. It must have fallen from his shoulder when Lucian tackled him. Dante swore he could feel his heart in his throat when he couldn’t find his magnum in the holster, either. 

“Go!” Lucian shouted.

Dante did as his brother said, making it to his feet just as the man came out from behind the crate with a rifle pointed straight at him. Uzi fire from Lucian answered the asshole, the bullets pelting the guy’s front, jerking him into the crate before he slammed to the floor. Dante didn’t waste time looking for the last man. He just ran for the front of the building, hoping to hell Lucian wasn’t far behind him.

The mess of crates and boxes wasn’t nearly as bad on the other side of the warehouse. It was a heck of a lot easier to make his way through and it didn’t feel like such a maze. Dante reached the open space where the car must have been parked in no time at all. In the back of his mind, he was still counting down. Maybe what, thirty seconds?

The sight of the heavy bars barricading the front entrance closed sent rage swelling in Dante. A hand landed to his shoulder, making him shout. “Jesus, Lucian!”

“Look,” Lucian said, nodding up at the top of the metal garage door. Dante followed his direction, noticing the door was lifted and closed by a mechanical motor. There was no button anywhere in sight, though. “We can pry it up, but it’s going to be hard.”

“You got that last guy right?” Dante asked. Lucian nodded. “All right, let’s open this fucker and get the hell out of here.”

Lucian tossed his Uzi to the side, bending down with Dante to pry at the bottom of the metal door. Lifting the sheets of connected metal was anything but easy. Every muscle in Dante’s body protested at the weight bearing down from the door. When the door was up to Dante’s waste, he nodded for his brother to go under first. With Lucian on the other side, holding the bottom of the door again, Dante quickly slipped out, too.

The metal smashed down to the cement with a bang as soon as they let it go.

Standing straight, Dante took notice of two things immediately. His wife’s coat, shoes, and the new knife was all tossed in a pile on the ground. Second, a familiar black car was parked, engine running and the back door open only feet away from the front of the warehouse. Lucian laughed at the sight of Gio’s car, but it was strained. Dante could hear it and it shredded his heart to pieces.

They still didn’t have John.

And God, where was Catrina?

“Come on!” Gio shouted from inside the car.

Dante and Lucian didn’t need to be told again. They jumped into the back of Gio’s car, landing one on top of the other. Gio pushed the gas pedal to the floor, forcing the backdoor to close and sending Lucian’s elbow jabbing with damning force into Dante’s rib. He kicked his brother off of him.

“Ow, you asshole!”

Lucian didn’t say a thing as he pushed himself up in the seat. “Where is my son?”

“I think I know,” Gio said. “Maybe …
Cristo
, I hope so, anyway.”

Gio didn’t sound like he was excited about his idea of Johnathan’s whereabouts, so that only worried Dante more.

“Wh—”

Lucian didn’t get to finish his question. The impact of the bomb going off behind them was like a wave of pressure hitting the back of their car. The volcanic-like sound from before had nothing on this blast. Both Lucian and Dante ducked down instinctively, though they were too far away to get any hit from the bomb, now.

“Holy shit,” Gio hissed, the car jerking to the side as he took a sharp right turn. “Well, that makes cleanup on our end easy.”

“Where are we going?” Dante asked.

“To get your wife and John.”

“He was in the car?” Lucian asked, his voice turning deadly.

Dante could see Gio’s cringe as their younger brother said, “Uh …”

Lucian slammed his hand into the back of Gio’s shoulder. “What? Tell me!”

“When I first got the feed up, I watched who she said was Bruno put a large duffel bag into the trunk.”

“
A duffel bag
?” 

“That’s what I saw, nothing else,” Gio said quickly.

Lucian’s eyes turned practically black with his fury.  Dante sunk into the seat, the anxiety beating hard in his chest again. He refused to show his fear, but it was hard to ignore it completely.

Gio glanced into the rear-view mirror. “We’re not far from the GPS location for Catrina. It only went maybe three or four blocks before it stopped.”

Dante stayed silent as the car weaved through back streets, warehouses flying by. Gio seemed to know where he was going without even looking at the map sporting a single red dot on his laptop in the passenger seat. Dante wasn’t surprised Gio knew the area. The shipping district has always been a specialty of his and Lucian’s.

Gio slammed on the breaks and put the car in park, sending Lucian and Dante jerking forward. Dante didn’t need to ask why his brother had stopped so suddenly. A white car had half-parked in a narrow alleyway between two buildings. Something was happening inside the vehicle, because it shuddered with movement.

Dante was pushing out of Gio’s car before either of his brothers. Lucian was right on his heels. He reached for his gun as he approached the car, but again, realized he had lost it. Dante didn’t give a shit if he had a gun or not.

Certainly not when he saw a man he didn’t recognize choking the very life out of his wife in the front seat. Dante moved fast around the vehicle, rage simmering hot in his blood. His wife was one hell of a fighter because the man’s—Bruno’s—face was torn to shreds with scratches and claw marks.

Dante yanked open the passenger’s side door at the same time Gio opened the driver’s. The first thing his brother did was find the latch and pop open the trunk. Catrina’s face was red, tears streaking down her cheeks as she tried futility to take in oxygen. The hands around her throat were raw from Catrina’s fingernails tearing into the skin.

Instantly, Catrina’s wide, frightened hazel eyes met her husband’s above her. Shock registered in Bruno’s gaze at the same time.

Lucian choked out a painful noise at the back of the car. “Oh, God, John.
Papà’s
here, John. Daddy’s here, sweet boy.”

“You’re going to die,” Dante snarled, his fist snapping out and crunching against Bruno’s nose the moment the words left his lips.

Gio seized the man’s legs, dragging him from the car as Dante grabbed his wife around the waist and pulled her out on his side. Shouts rang out from the other side of the vehicle before two hard smacks shut the fool up. Gio’s boot, likely.

Dante’s hands fluttered over his wife’s face, noting the bruise under her eye and the split lip seeping blood. His anger welled harder as the tears fell from Catrina’s eyes again, her sobs growing in intensity. Dante had only seen his wife cry once.

Catrina didn’t cry and he knew she wouldn’t want anyone, even family, seeing her in that state. Dante wiped the wetness from his wife’s face, kissing her bruised lip gently. “
Shhh
, I got you,
dolcezza
.”

Catrina nodded wildly. “I know, you always do.”

Yeah, and he always fucking would, too.

“Crazy girl.”

“I love you,
bello
.”

“
Ti amo
, Catrina.
Sempre
.”

“Always,” she repeated in English.

“I thought you knew the rules,” Dante said, checking the awful hand and fingerprints around her pale neck.

“I’m sorry,” Catrina cried, her sobbing starting up again.

“No, you’re not.”

Catrina shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

Dante looked over his wife’s shoulder to see Lucian cradling a screaming Johnathan.

“We gotta get out of here soon,” Gio said, resting his arms on the top of the car. “We still need to get the other car, too.”

“He dead yet?” Lucian asked.

“No, but he’s enjoying the taste of the heel of my boot right now.”

Lucian passed a look at Dante, asking a question without even saying a word.

Can I, or do you want it?

Dante didn’t want to let Catrina go. “Take it, man.”

Lucian moved around the side of the car, handing Johnathan to Gio. As Gio walked away, he covered his nephew with his coat. Lucian forced a severely bleeding and dazed Bruno to his feet. Dante didn’t bother to make his wife look away as the man was backed into the brick wall of the building.

The gun his older brother loved—Lucian’s ever faithful Eagle—was shoved so far into Bruno’s mouth the man gagged.

When Lucian pulled the hammer back, Bruno’s gaze flicked to Catrina.

Catrina smirked and whispered, “
Boom
.”

• • •

Dante stood frozen to the spot in the entrance foyer of his parents’ home. His shoes felt as if someone had poured cement in them, making him unable to move. Catrina didn’t seem to notice his plight as she went about pulling off her jacket and booted heels, putting the items into the large hallway closet.

Once she was done with her things, she began to undress Michel from his coat, hat, and boots while Dante held the boy. Michel babbled away while his mother fussed over him, most of his words unintelligible. One word, however, stood out above the rest and was as clear as day:
papà
.

Michel had already taken to calling Catrina his
mamma
, apparently by the encouragement of a picture from the nanny as Dante understood. As far as Dante went, it only took the child one week to begin calling him
papà
. It was fucking surreal, beautiful, and terrifying at the same time. Why? Because Michel looked at Dante like he was his favorite and most important person in the entire world. For Dante, there were no two people more significant to him than Catrina and Michel. Not now.