“Did he happen to mention why?”
“Not really, but I could hear fear in his voice when he called.”
“When was the call?” I asked, knowing Stefan wouldn’t have simply gotten on the first plane.
“Over two weeks ago.”
The information hit me hard. My father had been planning this shit for that long.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
There was no advance notice, no smoking gun so to speak. There was merely an eruption of violence, the popping sounds of gunfire permeating the entire restaurant. Within seconds, the screaming began as dozens of people scrambled to get to the front door as all hell broke loose.
Bullets tore through various pieces of furniture and I could see several innocent people going down, trapped in the melee. I’d experienced attacks before, was used to the escalation of gunfire, but for some insane reason I was caught off guard for a full ten seconds.
Until I heard the deep voice belonging to my brother.
“What the fuck?” Stefan asked, cringing. “Damn it. I’m unarmed.”
“Stay here!” I commanded to Stefan as I grabbed my Beretta from my jacket, racing toward the back room, flying over fallen chairs and tables.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
I had to push my way through petrified people including several waiters and waitresses, curtailing my response time. Although seconds had passed, another round of gunfire burst through the wails and cries. The panic was horrific, many customers trampled, tables turning over, and dishes shattered in their effort to get the hell out of the way. The private room door was ajar and only seconds before I burst into the room, an unknown assailant dressed as a fucking waiter raced out of the room.
In a split second I fired my weapon, the single bullet hitting him right between the eyes. I wasted no time before lunging inside, the stench of blood filling the space, crawling into my nostrils. The two soldiers guarding the door were down, two others from our party writhing on the floor. My father was nowhere to be seen. I crouched down, grabbing the gun from one of the soldiers’ hand.
A glint caught my eye and with everything moving in slow motion, I snapped toward the disturbance, firing with both barrels. The second unknown assailant was riddled with bullets, the force pummeling him against the wall. As he slid down to the floor, I rushed toward him, kicking the gun out of the way. I could tell the fucker was dead, his vacant eyes staring back at me.
Rage rushed through me, nearly blinding. We’d been freaking set up. I shoved the second weapon into my jacket, swinging around to eye the carnage. The walls were covered in strings of blood. I was able to see my father slumped against the back wall, his breathing ragged. I ran around the table, hunkering down.
“I’m… fine,” my father wheezed.
“Yeah? Well, just stay here until I make certain there’s no more of these bastards.” I grabbed my father’s hand, forcing him to put pressure on what appeared to be a shoulder wound.
Armando crawled toward my father, shell-shocked but otherwise all right.
I gave him a nod and jerked to my feet, heading to the other side of the table. “What the fuck happened?” I roared as Dante struggled to get to his feet.
“The assholes burst in out of nowhere and just started shooting,” Dante managed. His arms were splattered in blood.
“How many?”
“Three.”
“Fuck me,” I hissed, scanning the room quickly. I knew by the tats covering the assholes that they were Axel’s men.
“One of them left a message, boss,” Dante added.
I tipped my head, taking several deep breaths. “Yeah?”
“He said it’s payback.”
Goddamn the motherfucker. This meant war. “Whatever happens, protect my father and lock this place down. No one comes in or out.” I didn’t wait for an answer, I knew Dante would follow my orders. I raced out of the room, jumping over tables, constantly scanning the area.
I realized the damn police would be arriving soon and I was determined to find the third asshole. Then I would send a message of my own.
There was nothing to prepare me for the sight of my brother as he stumbled into the main dining room, his breathing ragged. He held his hand against his stomach, his fingers flexed open and blood seeping through his shirt.
“Stefan!” As he started to go down on his knees, I caught him, slowly taking both of us to the floor.
“I’m… sorry… brother,” he whispered, clinging to me.
No. No. This wasn’t going to happen.
“Stay with me, Stefan. We’ll get you to a hospital.”
He struggled to swallow and I could hear sirens in the background. When his mouth moved, I shook my head. “Just hold on. Just fucking hold on.”
Stefan tried to smile, the move forcing him to cough, blood seeping from his mouth.
Oh, God. Oh. Fucking. God.
“Stefan. Stay with me! Stay. With. Me!”
There was no way to describe my emotional state as my only brother collapsed in my arms, his body falling against mine. Helpless.
Lifeless.