But he’s relentless.
A fist connects with my jaw. My head snaps sideways, pain ricocheting through my skull. He’s stronger than I thought—his hits carry decades of experience. I stagger back, barely dodging his next strike.
“Gio, please, stop this!” I yell, feeling desperate. I know I can protect myself. I know he’s going to have a very, very difficult time killing me. But fuck, I don’t want us to beat each other to a bloody pulp. I need to get him to listen to me.
But he simply snarls and spins to face me again.
I lunge again. Low. Fast. I drop into a sweep and take his legs out from under him. He crashes hard, and I don’t give him a chance to recover. I’m on him in a blink, straddling his torso, fists driving down into his face.
Left. Right. Right again.
I feel cartilage crunch beneath my knuckles.
He growls, shoves up with both arms, tries to throw me off. I roll to the side and come back with a hook that sends him into the alley wall.
Brick shatters behind him.
He’s furious. Feral.
He lunges, claws out, but I drop under him, grab the back of his knee, and slam my palm up into his sternum as I rise. The force lifts him off the ground, just a few inches, but enough to stagger him.
Gio’s foot catches the back of mine, pulling my leg out from under me. He takes his moment and, with a snarl, he plows into me, sending me skidding across the pavement on my ass.
My hand whips out to stop the impact. Something beneath it rolls, and my fingers close around it. The very same rebar Gio sliced me with.
And, as we skid to a stop, as Gio’s fangs extend and he aims for my neck with a feral snarl, I react on instinct.
With deadly force, I shove that rebar deep into Gio’s chest.
There is a sickening snap. And then the sound of something wet and soft being pierced.
Giovanni’s body goes rigid. His dark eyes widen, something like disbelief flickering in them. At the same time, both our eyes slide down to the metal rod sticking out from his chest—right where his heart is.
I scoot back from beneath him as he kneels, looking down at the damage.
Giovanni tries to suck in a gasp, but the sound is wet and fractured. He blinks once, the look on his face stunned.
And then his body loses strength, and Gio slumps forward, falling flat on his face. The rebar pierces through his back as his own bodyweight drives it deeper.
His skin turns ashen. His chest does not rise and fall with breath.
Dead. Giovanni is dead.
Silence crashes down around me.
My hands are still curled into claws, shaking. My breath comes in sharp bursts. The scent of blood clings to the air. I stare down at his lifeless body, at the way the fight drained from his limbs in an instant.
I killed him.
Ikilledhim.
Shit.
Oh, shit.
A wave of nausea surges up my throat. My pulse races.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t trying to kill this man. I just wanted him to stop. I just needed this to stop.
