***LONDON’S POV***
A FEW HOURS EARLIER
I keep hitting the vase on Paolo’s head, making sure to smash his skull.
When a gurgling sound comes up from his strangled throat, I stare at him straight in the eyes, my anger blinded by the fact that he threatened me and my baby.
No mother should experience the fear that I did because it makes me hurt, more than they can ever expect.
“You should rut in hell, Paolo,” I bark out as I look at him in the eyes.
“Michael Logan would get to you when he knows I am dead,” he speaks out and I tremble.
When Paolo notices his words have cut into me like a wounded animal, he smiles, blood painted in his mouth and his teeth flashing out.
The sound of a gun going off and a scream pierces the air and I widen my eyes in shock.
Using that as an opportunity to get me off his body, Paolo turns around and pins me to the ground.
“You bitch,” he screams as he whacks me with his hand.
For a moment, I thought I would be deaf with how faint everything started sounding.
I close my eyes just for a moment, seeking respite, I know he would kill me, this man is bad.
“London? Oh, you fucker, you will be so fucking sorry for laying your hands on my sister’s body,” I hear Micah’s voice and I choke out in tears.
“Help me. Please,” I beg as Micah grabs Paolo and starts punching him.
Paolo is still strong, even though I had broken part of his face with the vase. Since it was small, it didn’t do great damage to the hulk of a man.
I bet he sees this every day to even be fazed by a small girl.
“Micah, be careful,” I yell out as Paolo lands his first punch on Micah’s stomach.
Paolo’s right eye was slowly closing, he looked ready to kill and I wondered where the gunshot had come out.
That was when I remembered the other guy Paolo was with before I attacked them. Micah must have seen him and shot him at point blank.
Shivers run down my spine and I brush the idea of a dead man in my house. That will haunt me for most part of my life if I even see it.
The fucker who tried to hurt me has a place in my mind I will never forget.
“London, get out now,” Micah says, pulling me out of my trance.
I blink severally, focusing my eyes on the villain. He was punching Micah, landing blows wherever his hands met flesh.
Micah’s hands were protecting his face.
The last blow took Micah in his guts and he choked as Paolo took him to the ground.
“Micahhhhh!” I cry out, rushing to him, I grabbed a bigger water vase this time, one containing a few roses in it, and crash it on the motherfucker’s head.
A pool of blood starts flowing as he slumps to the ground.
“No one touches my brother. He is my family, my blood, and my only living member left,” I scream out as I grab a chunk of pottery and start smashing it into Paolo’s face.
I didn’t stop, even when he stopped breathing, I was bent on getting my job done, and I didn’t care if I was going to be thrown in prison or not.
Micah isn’t my only family living right now because I am married, I have a husband, and my baby is on its way, but Micah is an original Jameson, he loves me, and I don’t know what I would do without him.
Micah recovers from his choking and I feel his thick hands on mine, separating me from the guy I was straddling. The one who almost killed him.
“No, Micah, let me finish the job,” I mouth out crawling back to Paolo’s corpse.
“No, you didn’t have to do something gory. The poor guy is already dead,” he finishes, pointing at Paolo’s body.
He was covered in a pool of his own blood, his face smeared with red and he could barely shake a limb.
Cold like the word.
That is when the realization hit me like a tornado.
“I just killed a man,” I mutter more to myself than to Micah.
“I would never wish to be him considering what you just did,” he says beneath his breath.
I zoned out of the room as I focused on staring at Paolo.
Death. His cold blue eyes stared at me with lifeless fit.
Shaking my head, I can’t believe I did that. I wouldn’t even accept it and I find myself in a total breakdown.
“Please, be alive, stay alive, Paolo,” I cry out as I crawl to his side, hitting his chest with my hands and laying my head on his torso.
“London! hey! get up, what are you doing?” I hear Micah ask but I keep shaking my head in disagreement.
“I just killed a man, Micah. Don’t you get it? I don’t give lives, who am I to take any?” I ask, my words slurping as I shake my head in disbelief.
Micah tries calming me down but I am too entranced, I would never come to terms with having bloodstain on my hands for eternity.
“You know Zane kills people for a living right?” Micah’s reasoning voice cuts through my mind.
Zane might be comfortable in this line of work, but not me.
“This isn’t the same, Micah. This man lying down here could have had a family, a wife, and kids waiting for Daddy to get back home,” I cry out, shaking.
“Well, London, that would have been you or me. I am going to call Zane now,” he finishes and walks away.
A few minutes pass by before he hands me the phone.
“Zane is on the line, he wants to talk to you,”
Still a sobbing mess, I cry harder into the phone, “Daddy? I need you here, please. I just killed a man,”
There is silence, a long one before Zane says anything.
“I’m on my way, baby, stay away from the corpse, I will be there before you know it,” he says.
“I love you, Daddy,” I sob out.
Zane sighs before responding curtly, “Love you too, little girl. Give Micah the phone,” he lets out.