Saving the Hitman (Men of Ruthless Corp) - Page 19

I dialed Malcolm Miller on autopilot because it was what I always did when there was trouble at the shelter.

“Miller,” he said when he answered his phone.

“Malcolm, it’s Trudy. I think the Gabriellis might be here. They might have even taken Tatum. I’m at the safe house and Malik and Rafa have gone to look for them.”

“Did they ask you to call for backup?”

“No, they specifically told me not to involve the police. But I felt like I had to do something, so I called you.”

“Sit tight, Trudy. You’re with the most effective team out there. I’ll call Maverick. He’s closer and can get there faster than anybody I could send from Valor. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just worried about them.”

“Watch you back, Trudy. Don’t let your guard down. The Gabriellis are murderous savages, but nothing that the Connor brothers can’t handle. They’ve taken down more serious criminals in the past.”

“Thanks, Miller.”

“Do me a favor. Send me your coordinates and I’ll send someone out just to be safe.”

I sank in the deep tub and tried to put the whole ordeal out of my head using techniques I practiced with the kids at the shelter. Mindfulness, intentional self-care, focus on the objects around me. I almost fell asleep in the warm water and bubbles that surrounded me.

A knock pounding on the bathroom door shook me out of my peaceful reverie.

“Malik?” I shouted above the racket. I stood in the water and grabbed a giant bath sheet wrapping it around my naked body. “Malik?”

The knock came again, but no one answered my call.

Chapter 13

Malik

We ran through the woods on foot. Rafa had been able to track Fio’s cell phone and it dinged a location about a mile off the property. Problem was, the tracking device showed her in the woods, like in the thick of the woods where no road, not even a known trail led to.

So we ran through the forest, tripping over fallen trees and at times, running ankle-deep in standing water. Rafa had the rifle strapped to his back as well as a piece in his pocket. I had the pistol I always carried, a hunting knife, and a ligature wire. I preferred, above all else, to do my job with my hands, but I was happy to use accouterments when the situation demanded.

“What’s the ETA?” I asked Rafa.

“Three minutes or so if we keep our pace,” he told me.

Failure and defeat weren’t part of my vocabulary. I’d take out every single Gabrielli creep if I had to. I could spend a lifetime seeking revenge on their family mafia and it would be no sweat off my back. Hunt to kill, one by one, like notches in a bedpost.

We hit a clearing and could see straight through to the other side about a hundred yards across a field. We could see Fio’s white-blonde hair a mile away, it was a dead giveaway. They’d tied her to a tree and she was blindfolded, we counted three men on the scene. I had to pounce on Rafa and hold him down to keep him from shooting like a madman without any plan.

“Let me fucking kill them. I’ll shoot their dicks off,” he raved. He was practically foaming at the mouth with rage. I slipped the rifle off him and took it away as we crouched and ran, took cover in a ditch right before the clearing.

“Rafa, there’s no denying I’m a better shot. I know you want the kill but let me take at least one out while you make your way over. I’ll cover you.”

Rafa rolled on his back and looked at the sky squinting, then he did the sign of the cross over himself while I counted down from ten slowly. I had one Gabrielli in my crosshairs and I aimed for his head. I’d gladly paint the forest with his blood and grey matter.

I shot and his head exploded on my one, Rafa took off at a crouching run, stealthily crossing the field. I heard shouting and the other two pulled their guns. I said a quick prayer that they wouldn’t just take out Fio before Rafa could get to them.

As soon as I had a second one in my line, I pulled the trigger again.

Bullseye.

I stood and jumped the ditch and ran after Rafa.

The third and final mobster was shooting haphazardly in our direction. These gangsters liked the loud cracks and shot with cocky assurance, but little to no skill. A bullet ricocheted off of a tree and appeared to land very close to Rafa.

I stopped and reloaded behind an old tree stump, used it as a rest for my gun and took aim at the final man standing. He was too close to Fio now, untying her from the tree. I couldn’t risk hitting her and dealing with Rafa’s fallout.

Tags: Aria Cole, Mila Crawford Romance
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