“No!” I scream while shaking my head in denial. They try to pry me away from Anthony. My hands grip onto his shoulders and my tears fall onto his chest. I feel numb everywhere, but my heart is aching.

Blood’s soaks into Anthony’s shirt and pools around his back as he lies still on the ground. “Help him!” I frantically scream out. They need to do something. He can’t die. No! He can’t leave me like this. He can’t die because of me. Please, God, save him. I pray as I watch Vince rip off his shirt. Anthony doesn’t move. His limp body sways as Vince looks over the bullet wound in his back.

I vaguely hear the grunting of men as they haul off dead and limp bodies. I hear the smash of a fist pounding into tender flesh and threats being made. They took prisoners, but most of the men are surrounding their own man, the only Valetti to fall. My Anthony.

“Get her out of here,” Vince yells back. He looks directly past my shoulder at Tommy who’s holding me back.

“I can’t leave him,” I say. I search for understanding in Tommy’s eyes, but he’s not looking at me. He looks like he’s carrying the pain that Anthony must be feeling. His eyes are full of anguish. He grips me closer to him as I try to push away and go back to Anthony. I can’t let him die. He can’t die.

“Right now you need to,” Vince says as he looks at me, but it’s not said with hate or anything other than sympathy.

“The cops are going to come and you can’t be here. You shouldn’t be anywhere around them.” He motions to our left, where the Cassanos are all lined up execution style. My heart twists. I don’t care about them. I don’t care about any of this.

“I can’t leave him,” I cry out to Vince as Tommy drags me back.

“I won’t tell you again.” Vince looks me dead in the eyes. “If you never want to see him again, go ahead and stay. Have him try to explain it to the cops.”

“You can’t stay. Just listen to Vince. He’ll take care of Anthony,” Tommy whispers into my ear. I know he’s hurting, too. I turn around in his arms and close my eyes tight, willing Anthony to be alright.

From my left, I hear a grunt of a laugh and someone spit. My eyes open and I see that prick. The bastard who started all of this. His hands are tied behind his back and he’s on his knees. He’s lined up like the others. Two of them are getting the shit beat out of them. But not Lorenzo. He looks at me with one black eye and gives me a bloody smile, and I’ve never wanted to hurt him more. I’ve never felt such a strong need for vengeance. It’s his fault. All of this is his fault.

I don’t think about it, and I don’t consider the consequences. I just reach for Tommy’s gun tucked in his waistband.

I hear his scream as I pull out of his grasp for just enough time to pull the trigger. I fire once, and it hits the fucker in his shoulder. I take a single step and scream with all the rage and pain I'm feeling. He falls backward with a cuss ringing in my ears. My second shot hits him square in the chest. Tommy’s arms wrap around mine. Several men yell. I don’t care. I stare at the man who made my life hell. The man who laughed at my pain. And I watch the life leave his eyes.

A strong hand rips the gun from my hand and I look up to see Vince scowling at me. He looks between me and Lorenzo. I can’t look him in the eyes. I swallow the lump in my throat and stop fighting against Tommy. His hold on me loosens, and I instinctively try to go to Anthony. But Vince is blocking me, and Tommy’s still gripping my wrist.

“Your ex?” Vince asks.

I nod my head as tears fall down my cheeks. I look back at him. That piece of shit should have died long ago.

"You snitched 'cause of him?" he asks me. I fucking hate that he brings it up. I want to cower, but I don't. I nod my head in response. Vince looks me in the eyes and gives me a small smile as he says, "He fucking had it coming." He pats my shoulder and leans into my ear as he reassures me, “You did good.”

He pulls away from me and I feel the faintest bit of relief. But it’s not okay. Nothing can change what’s happened. Lorenzo being gone won’t bring Anthony back. He can’t die on me.

“But don’t do that shit again,” Vince says to me, handing Tommy back his gun. “Get your shit together, Tommy.”

“Let’s go,” Tommy says, pulling me away from the scene.

I hear someone ask Vince a question. I don’t know what the question was, but I hear Vince’s response clear as day.

“All of them. They’re fucking done.” Bullets ring out in an instant. I look over my shoulder to see the Cassanos falling to the ground, blood splattered on the ground in front of them. I should feel a sense of shock. But I feel nothing. I turn back around and let Tommy take me away before I give in to the urge to run back to Anthony.

I walk, but not by my own free will. I keep looking back, but they’re surrounding Anthony. I can’t see him. It hurts. It hurts too much. I feel like I’m dying. I get in the car, but I don’t know how. All I can see is the look in Anthony’s eyes as the bullets hit his back. I cover my face with my hands and let all the pain out as I sob.

“Catherine?” Tommy asks me after a long time. I look up and see that we’re driving, but I don’t know where we're going. He pulls over and holds me against him as I cry. His hand rubs gently on my back and for a moment I pretend it’s Anthony. I pretend it’s okay. “I know Anthony has problems. It’s not his fault.” He chokes on his words and refuses to look me in the eyes, “I’m sorry.” I don’t know how to respond, so I say nothing.

“Did he hurt you?” I hear the pain in Tommy’s question and I look up at him with confusion. Did Anthony hurt me? It takes me a long time to gather the strength to answer. “No. Never.” My heart twists with a pain I’ve never felt before.

“I didn’t know he was keeping you against your will. I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’ll take you anywhere you want, Catherine. You’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it. He’ll never find you if you don’t want him to.”

I shake my head frantically. “You don’t understand. It’s not like that. I want to go to Anthony,” I insist. I hold onto Tommy’s arm with an unrelenting grasp. My heart stammers in my chest and anxiety races through my blood. They can’t send me away. I need to know he’s okay.

“Do you love him?” Tommy asks.

“I do; I don’t care if it’s wrong.” It’s the truth, and I pray Tommy knows that. But he doesn’t respond.

“He can’t die for me; tell me he’ll be okay.” He has to be okay.

“I wish you’d ask me for something I can give you, Catherine, but I can’t give you that.”