We had no idea what we were about to walk into, how precarious it could be.
If Berat sensed he was losing, it would make him unpredictable. And unpredictable men were capable of some fucked up shit.
I couldn’t risk fucked up shit happening to Ezmeray or her little sister.
“I’m sure she knows you’re looking for her,” Cesare said. “She’s probably being smart and stalling for time.
Except, of course, that wasn’t the case at all.
It killed me to wait for our guys to show up, even if in reality, it was only two or three minutes.
The windows were boarded up still, so there was no way to see what was going on inside without, well, going in.
Looking back, I nodded toward Cesare and the others as they strategically lined up behind me on both sides.
Then I slipped my finger to the trigger with one hand and reached for the door knob with the other.
The damn thing turned in my hand.
How fucking careless could you get?
But there was no time to think about that.
I yanked open the door and charged inside.
To see Ezmeray kneeling down beside the unmoving body of Berat Polat.
Swinging a hammer over and over again into his skull, sending blood, bone, and brain matter flying everywhere.
Including all over her.
It shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was.
But, then again, this was me we were talking about.
“I’m getting the sister out of here,” Cesare said, tucking his gun away, and moving across the room toward where, I assumed, the sister was situated.
I wouldn’t know.
I couldn’t look away from Ezmeray.
Tucking my gun away, I moved forward, watching as the pure, undiluted rage slowly slipped from her eyes, leaving her a mix of shocked and relieved at the same time.
“Won’t be needing that anymore,” I told her as I crouched down beside her, pulling the bloody hammer out of her hand, dropping it down beside me, then reaching for her hands, pulling her up onto her feet. “It’s okay. It’s all over, Ezzy,” I assured her, leading her away from Berat’s body.
“Ez!” another female voice yelled, making both of us turn to find Ezmeray’s sister rushing forward, and throwing her arms around Ezzy.
“Alara. I’m so sorry,” Ezzy said, squeezing her sister tight.
“For what? It wasn’t your fault. Those motherfuckers,” Alara growled, making a strange sound escape Ezzy as she moved back, holding her sister at arm’s length.
“Hearing you cursing is going to take some getting used to,” she admitted.
“It’s been a long year and a half dealing with those bastards. It made even Mom’s language colorful,” Alara insisted.
“I’m so sorry. That wasn’t supposed to happen. That wasn’t the deal.”
“Yeah, well, turns out, you can’t expect morality from immoral men,” Alara said, rolling her eyes. “Congratulations on the timely death of your husband,” she added, making a chuckle escape me, which had her gaze slipping in my direction, sizing me up, then moving back to her sister. “And for the hot, scary guy you’re clearly banging.”
“Alara,” Ezmeray said, letting out an uncomfortable laugh.
“He called you his. And he is clearly hot. And very scary. Even with the gun tucked away,” Alara declared. “If you hit her like I imagine that shithead husband of hers did, I will string you up by your toenails and turn your outie into an innie,” she threatened with a big smile.
“Like your sister, babe,” I said, smirking at Ezzy. “But word to the wise,” I went on, looking back at Alara, “stringing up by the toenails…”
“Not a good idea, huh?” she asked, clicking her tongue. “Toes?”
“Can’t usually handle all that weight for long,” I told her, shrugging.
“Ankles then.”
“It works.”
“But?” she asked.
“But all the blood rushes to the head. Gives you a head rush.”
“Which could potentially make you feel said innie-fying of your outer bits less excruciating?” Alara surmised.
“Oh my God,” Ezzy said, looking between the two of us with big eyes.
“Yeah, something like that,” I agreed.
“Well, I would want you to be in absolute agony,” Alara said.
“Then you’d have to do it slowly with an unsharpened knife.”
“I can do that,” Alara said, smiling. “I’m Alara,” she said, holding out an arm, her wrist red from trying to work at the duct tape.
“Brio,” I said, taking her hand.
“Well, Brio. Your friends sort of look like they’re in the mafia,” she said, giving me a knowing nod.
“They do, don’t they?” I agreed, making her smile spread.
“Thought so. Okay. Well, I am going to go flirt with the tattooed one,” she said, giving Cesare a wiggly-finger wave.
“You will not,” Ezmeray hissed. “He’s too old for you.”
“Okay, Mom,” Alara said, rolling her eyes.
“Oh, God. Mom,” Ezmeray said, eyes going to me.
“Relax. It’s the mafia, Ez,” Alara insisted. “They have it handled. Right?” she asked, looking at me.
“Right,” I agreed, nodding.
“See? All settled. Have your cheesy ‘I came to save you’ reunion even if she didn’t need to be saved,” Alara insisted. “I am going to go and not flirt with the hot mafia guys.”