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Under His Protection by Alyse Zaftig (8)

8

Jason

Rye Hart

I’d finally managed to herd the Don and his men to the front door. His goons were already out in the driveway waiting for their boss, and he was taking his time, still laughing at the thought of me having to pay for a fuck.

“Glad that you’re having so much fun with — ”

My thought was interrupted by the sound of a sneeze from the bathroom. It was muffled, sure, but it was still very distinctly, a sneeze. I’d heard it loud and clear, and judging by the look on Don Lorenzo’s face, he had too.

Turning his eyes to me, his face darkened and a deep rage twisted his features. He obviously knew I’d lied to him. Again.

“Shit,” I muttered.

“You son of a bitch,” he bellowed. “You goddamn — ”

I didn’t give him time to finish that statement — mostly because I knew he’d punctuate it with a bullet to my head. Instead, I picked up my leg and drove my foot straight into his ample gut. He expelled a puff of breath and a grunt as he fell onto his ass in the driveway. Two of his men moved quickly and helped him to his feet while the third looked from me to his boss, obviously not knowing what to do and was waiting for instructions.

“Kill that son of a bitch!” Don Lorenzo roared.

“Shit,” I said and slammed the front door, quickly throwing the locks.

I dove to the side a moment before a hail of bullets tore through the wood, slamming into the walls of the living room. Acting quickly, I pulled the drawer out of the small table and pulled out the gun I kept in there for just such occasions. I clicked off the safety and when I heard footsteps on the porch, I squeezed off three quick rounds. I heard the man grunt, followed by the thump of his body as he dropped.

I heard the panicked shouting of Don Lorenzo’s two remaining men outside as the scrambled back and tried to get out of the way. Yeah, they were big, burly, intimidating men, but they didn’t have my training. And they knew it.

Getting to my feet, I dashed for the bathroom. Finding the door locked, I knocked.

“Jessica, open up,” I said. “We gotta go.”

The door opened and the girl looked at me wide-eyed, absolute terror on her face.

“I couldn’t help it,” she said. “I tried to keep from sneezing, but — ”

“Later,” I said. “We don’t have time right now. We have to get the fuck out of here.”

Grabbing her by the hand, I led her back through the living room and was just pushing her into the kitchen when the front door exploded inward. Don Lorenzo’s men had kicked it in, shattering the frame, and sending what remained of the door slamming into the wall behind it. The two men were through the door in a heartbeat, guns raised, squeezing off shots.

I pushed Jessica to the ground in the kitchen and ducked behind the wall, keeping my body between her and the mobsters.

“This doesn’t have to end this way, Don Lorenzo,” I called. “We can all just go our separate ways now. Nobody else needs to die.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid that train’s already left the station, asshole,” the mob boss called back. “You and that bitch are gonna die in there. But I made you a promise — before I let you die, I’m gonna make you watch me fuck her first. And I’m gonna do things to her that are gonna make you want to cry, asshole.”

An anger, dark and abiding, welled up within me as I listened to him speak. I felt strangely protective of the girl and the mere thought of a slimebag like Don Lorenzo putting his greasy hands on her only fueled my rage.

“Last chance,” I called. “You and your men walk out and this ends right now.”

“Ain’t gonna happen,” he called back. “And the only way you two are gettin’ out of here is in body bags, ya stupid prick.”

I motioned for Jessica to slide between the space between the stove and the refrigerator. It was a tight fit, but I knew she’d be able to squeeze herself in. It wasn’t perfect, but it would offer her some bit of protection.

“Tell you what though,” Don Lorenzo called to me. “I’m feeling generous tonight. And since you’re a good man and a valued employee, how about this — you give the girl to me and you can walk out. I’ll let you live, Jason.”

I knew what he was doing. It was an amateur tactic — keep me talking while he moved his men into position. But I was smarter than him and was already moving to counter his moves. With Jessica safely out of the way, I moved as quickly and quietly as I could through the kitchen, slipping through the door that led to the back of the house. From there, I circled back around to the living room. Keeping just behind the doorway, I peeked out and saw Don Lorenzo’s men creeping toward the kitchen, guns raised, ready to shoot. Don Lorenzo himself, was standing near the front door — the cowardly little prick.

They were within a few feet of the kitchen doorway when I stepped out from my hiding spot and fired two quick rounds, each bullet catching one of Lorenzo’s men in the head. The bodies hadn’t even hit the floor yet before I was across the room, the barrel of my gun stuffed in Lorenzo’s mouth. His eyes were wide and his face was flushed. And for the first time since I’d met him, I saw actual fear in his eyes.

“Here’s the deal,” I said quietly. Slowly. “You’re gonna turn around and walk out. You’re gonna get into your car, drive away, and forget that you ever fucking knew me or the girl. You got that?”

The mob boss narrowed his eyes, that defiant look of dark anger back on his face again. To emphasize my point, I jammed the barrel of the gun a little further into his mouth and clicked back the hammer.

“Do you understand,” I said. “Nod if you do. Otherwise, I’m about to decorate that wall behind you with your fuckin’ brains.”

Lorenzo’s eyes widened slightly, but I could see he was turning it over in his mind, wondering if I’d actually have the guts to do it. My preference was to avoid killing a mob boss, if at all possible. Doing it would bring a heat down on me that I didn’t want or need. But I’d gone this far already — I would take it to the limit if I had to.

Finally, the light of defiance left his face and he nodded. Reluctantly.

Slowly, I lowered the gun but kept my face inches from his. “Remember,” I said, my voice low and menacing. “You’re alive right now because I chose to let you live. If I ever see you or your goons sniffing around me or her again, I’m not going to be so generous. Now, get the fuck out of here.”

The mob boss turned and walked out of my house — surprisingly with no last parting insult or threat. He got into his car and drove away, leaving the corpses of his three men behind. I watch, waiting until I see his taillights fade into the distance until I start to relax and let my guard down a bit.

“It’s okay, Jessica,” I said. “We’re safe now.”

And as I heard her footsteps approaching me from behind, I hoped that was true.