It makes me want to start fires to protect it. To run headfirst into a gun battle to rescue it.
Fighting every instinct, I gesture at her to stay as low to the ground as she can, and she nods, biting her lip to stop her tears.
You can do this, sweetheart. After today, all of us can start living again.
Only when I’m certain she’s as safe as she can be from flying bullets, I give the nod.
“Now.”
They fall like dominoes, each Brigăzi soldier and Irish mobster man picked off by a different sniper. They don’t even have a chance to raise their weapons. Grayson was underestimating. It’s all over in ten seconds, not thirty.
O’Sullivan looks like a rat trapped in a cage. Wherever he turns, there’s another Santiago soldier waiting for him. He tries to go for his gun but he gets a bullet through his hand from me for the trouble. Once the firing ceases, he’s still spinning in circles, dripping blood, and cursing in fury. Every single one of his men is dead.
“It’s over, O’Sullivan.” I step out of the shadows with my weapon trained on him.
His head snaps towards me and I finally see the fear on his face I’ve been waiting my whole life to savour.
“It’s never over, Lastra.” Grabbing Bambi by the hair, he yanks her up to use as a shield, pressing a gun to her head with his other hand.
“Let her go.”
“And deprive myself of giving you one last dose of pain? I was told she was Viper’s kid, but she’s looking awfully similar to Ada when she was fourteen.”
I hesitate and he pounces. “Clever. Clever.” He sounds impressed. “You kept her hidden from me all this time.”
Bambi looks as shocked as she is scared now. There’s a circle of armed men surrounding her, all with their weapons raised, but this revelation just fired the first bullet.
“Who the fuck are they, Lastra?” O’Sullivan’s eyes keep darting around the warehouse.
“Karma.”
“They aren’t Viper’s…”
“No, they’re mine.”
O’Sullivan’s reaction when he sees the tall Colombian standing next to Ada is a fucking religious experience. The way he stumbles backwards is the dance of a player who knows he’s been played by a hand he never saw coming.
With a roar of anger, he jams the gun even harder into Bambi’s head, and I hear Ada cry out.
“Put the weapon down and I’ll give you a quick death,” I lie. “If not, Viper will play with you for hours.”
His gaze jerks to the unsmiling man next to me. “I should have killed you in that basement, Lastra… I should have killed you both.” He turns a full circle with Bambi, searching frantically for a way out, and then I see the moment his fear switches to madness.
Pushing her away roughly, he shoves the gun under his chin and pulls the trigger.
Click.
Nothing.
He tries again.
Click. Click.
Dropping to his knees, he pulls the trigger repeatedly, but death isn’t coming for him today.
“NO!” he roars, throwing the useless weapon at me, but it doesn’t even come close.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bambi rise to her feet and push her matted pink hair out of her eyes. With a shaking hand, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a handful of bullets, letting each one fall to the ground in turn. Never taking her eyes off him until the last one is clinking off the concrete and rolling under his car.
She stole his bullets.
My girl stole his bullets.
There’s a reason why I’ve always admired a thief.
A beat later, Viper is firing one round into his right shoulder, and I’m firing one round into his left.
“Finish it, Lastra,” O’Sullivan howls, writhing around in agony on the floor, turning the grey concrete crimson. “Fucking finish it!”
Next to me, I can sense the waves of hate coming off Viper. You can’t measure your own pain against someone else’s, the same way you can’t measure darkness and light. But I’m thinking he might have the advantage over me these days.
So, I drop my gun.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses. “You said we’d finish him together.”
“Nah, this one’s on you, snake eyes.” I glance at Bambi who’s now safely wrapped in Ada’s arms.
You might not be able to measure all that other stuff, but you can feel the weight of your heart. You can tell when all the empty spaces have been filled.
“Are you sure about this?”
I flash him a wicked smirk. “Just make sure he dies screaming.”
I pass Grayson on the way to my family, and we shake hands briefly.
“These men are yours, Lastra, as soon as we empty the trucks and get the girls to safety. Lebedev is removing the last traces of Semenov’s cell. Santiago and I will be back next week to negotiate trade deals.”
“One day you’ll have to tell me what that favour was you owed Aiden.”
“One day,” he says, giving me a rare laugh.
Bambi springs apart from Ada when she sees me approaching. “Are you mad at me again, Frankie?”
“Yes, I’m fucking furious.” And then I’m sweeping her up into my embrace and kissing Ada at the same time, fighting the urge to make it more but restrained by two green eyes that are avidly watching us. “Are you okay?”
Bambi nods, and I’m relieved to see her bruises are more dirt this close up.
“I thought you said you didn’t steal from people you didn’t like?”
“I also told you I stole as a form of protection.” She glances between me and Ada, a sly smile creeping across her face. “So, this is what the bearpit looks like, huh?”
“The what?” Ada glances at me in confusion, but there’s a new peace in her eyes. It’s one I’ve never seen before, and something I know I’ll die to protect.
“I’ll tell you later,” I mouth. Along with how much I fucking love you, while my cock is buried so deep inside your pussy it’s impossible for you to focus on anything else.
“I know Ada’s my mum, but is it true you’re my dad?” Bambi screws up her face as if it’s the worst news imaginable. On a level with Taylor Swift deleting her entire back catalogue.
“Don’t sound so thrilled about it,” I say irritably.
“Yes, but you’re going to make me go to school.”
“If you go to school, I’ll take you to Africa. Here, I need to give you something for safe-keeping.” Reaching into my back pocket, I press a single matchstick into her outstretched palm. “I don’t need to burn down London anymore. If the situation changes, I’ll let you know.”
She stares at it for a long moment. “You know, my real name’s not Bambi, right?”
“I had a hunch,” I say, pulling her in even closer.
CHAPTER 41
VIPER
Music is my weapon of choice when I’m torturing a man.
It deploys my hate and disarms my mercy.
If I want to cut, I play a song that makes my blade more creative
If I want to punch, I play a song that makes my fists hit harder.