Page 253 of Merciless Daddy
For one second, he remained sitting there. Shocked. One hand pressed to the dark hole in his shirt.
Then his fingers stretched toward the gun.
Serafina shot him again.
His body went still.
She lowered her weapon.
No one spoke.
Sal did not look at Gianni.
Not once.
He crossed the corridor to me.
His pistol hit the floor before he reached me. His hands caught my face, my shoulders, my throat. They moved over me with no order. Searching. Checking. Trembling so badly his fingers caught in my hair.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
His hands closed around my wrists. He turned them over. Saw the red restraint marks from the ambulance. His face went white.
“Lena. Are you hurt?”
“No. I’m all right.”
“Did he—”
“No.”
I caught his jacket. The fabric bunched in my fists.
“I knew you would come.”
His eyes closed.
The sound he made was small. Broken.
“I was always coming.”
He pulled me against him.
Hard.
One arm locked around my waist. The other covered the back of my head. I pressed my face into his chest and breathed smoke, blood, wool, and Sal.
Home.
My legs shook. I hated them for it. I held tighter.
“I didn’t surrender,” I said.
His entire body went still around me.
“I didn’t sign. I didn’t give him the companies. I didn’t give myself back.”
