India’s about to say something—or do something. The ache in my chest is getting worse, especially when Fabian starts talking like I care about the shit coming out of his mouth. I don’t. None of us do.
I glance over at Tomás, who’s forever self-contained in his appearance. He shoots his eyes to the armed men circling André. They’re closer to him and Matheus. And I know exactly what he’s thinking. When the time comes, he and Matheus would move in and steal their weapons.
“So… now that we’re all here, I should introduce myself,” Fabian announces, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Since I’m the guy who has personally overthrown your organization, and it's all because of my attraction to this girl. Isn’t that right, India? You led me straight to them.”
“You’re a bit presumptuous, aren’t you?” I say, disinterested.
“Semantics. You’re all here, and the clock is ticking until the grand finale.”
When he trails his gun lower, touching, feeling, and breathing too close to her, my temper ignites. As if sensing the twitch in my arm, her lips part and her ballsy voice cuts him off.
“Hey… Dré. You know how I hate clowns?”
I don’t dare blink. My eyes are locked on every move, even though my stiff muscles are burning where I stand, resisting the impulse to reach for her.
“Well, there’s a few in here, right?” She continues.
“Shut the fuck up, India.” Fabian returns the barrel of his gun to her neck.
But she keeps talking to André, anyway. “But this time, you can sleep on my couch because Gio has my back.”
Jesus.
She’s talking to my brother in code. The second she lifts her knee and stretches a hand under the hem of her dress, I lose my breath.
Although her movements are quick and sharp, everything slows. André yells at her and she draws a Beretta M9, takes aim and precisely shoots the guy holding a gun at my twin’s head.
My knees weaken, but my instincts have already kicked in. I aim, snap the trigger, and lodge a bullseye bullet in Fabian’s forehead. India staggers forward, both of us drawn to each other like magnets.
Not taking any risks with her life, I charge straight for my girl and throw myself on top of her, tucking her body beneath my weight as we land.
André continues to yell, and I take a painful breath, knowing he’s still alive.
Gunfire explodes around us and my body jerks violently. Growling in pain, my muscles scream and catch fire. After a few heartbeats of shielding her, silence creeps over the coldness I’m feeling.
I can’t bring myself to move, or maybe I choose not to. Not when I know I’d see the heartbreak in her eyes––once she figures it out. Or when they all would.
“Gio?” Tomás shouts my name, his voice swirling in the back of my mind. “All clear.”
Shifting a little, I hunt out India’s face and pinpoint watery ocean eyes, and that beautiful smile of hers. “You, okay?” she asks.
“You’re a crazy bitch, baby.” I don’t answer the question. She’ll see for herself, eventually.
“I didn’t have a choice,” she says softly, and I can tell she’s shaken up. “I trusted you to come through for me.”
Sweat breaks out in waves and I manage to roll sideways, my abdomen throbbing and my left arm weak. Looking up, I see my brothers standing in the middle of the carnage, ferocious and out of breath.
“Gio?” India’s voice turns urgent. “Is this your blood or theirs?”
But while I lie here, a shadow moves in from the doorway. I try to lift my head, growling from the flaming agony deep in my side. I swallow, my throat too dry, and focus on the kill team trainee, whose aim is directed at Matheus’ head.
“Mat,” I hiss, taking wobbly aim, my arm shaking and my heavy-lidded eyes blinking away an unnatural exhaustion.
Even though I’m struggling to breathe properly, and my eyes are gritty, the buffalo emblem imprinted on a balaclava is all I see. Using the last reserve of my energy, I manage to keep my arm in the air.
Despite my efforts, an ear-piercing gunshot splices the air before I can lock on the target.
33
