Chapter 22

Kayla Santino The 3 fuckers drop dead like a domino effect, and I can't be any more proud of my bullets. Instinctively, I hastily move to the woman to set her free, and she looks at me with sad, grateful brown eyes. "Hey," I whisper carefully, not to frighten her, and she only stares at me timidly. I quickly take off my jacket and drape it on her bare body to cover her up. Men. "Thank you," she mumbles, cautiously looking at the dead bodies around us, and back at the gun in my hand in fear. Fuck. She needs to see a doctor. Despite the hell she went through, her beauty is still visible. How did she end up in this mess? "Marcello, help them out of here?" Carl shouts above the noisy sounds of the gunshots, and only then do I realise there is a shoot-out in the club, probably started by me. When did his men arrive? "Please... no," the woman cries when Marcello is about to touch her, and I understand why. "He's helping you to the car, no one is going to hurt you, okay? I'm coming with you," I assure her softly, and she reluctantly accepts. "I will cover you, be careful with her," I instruct the guy, who simply nods and slowly starts descending the stairs with her in his arms, bridal style. Guess the gunshots alarmed everyone, and now there is chaos everywhere in the club; it's a good thing carl has his men with him. We safely exit the building, and Marcello takes one of the cars they came with and hurriedly rushes to the nearest hospital. "How did you get there?" I ask calmly, brushing my fingers in her matted hair. She looks pathetic. When we arrived, she was immediately taken care of. Nothing a little money can not do. "Mmh," she clears her throat, skeptically staring at me, but finally opens up. "My husband was a lawyer, and I am too. He used to put away bad guys, and one of them got back at him. They killed him, and I would have been dead if you hadn't arrived." So her husband locked up some fuckers, and they got back at them. Messing with the criminal world is so dangerous, even the authorities know that. "Sorry about that," I tell her sincerely. They roughened her up, but she's still beautiful. She has big brown eyes with long black hair. Her body is slender, and her skin looks well-maintained. "I don't know who you are, but thank you, dear, you are a nice girl," She says, looking at me gratefully, and I am glad I did something nice for someone. I'm not sure if I'm a nice girl, but I will take that compliment. "Thank you, ma'am," I smile politely. I never had a chance of having a mother growing up, and I wonder what it feels like. I miss her a lot, though. My memories of her are becoming a blur with each day that passes, but I can never forget her blue eyes, just like mine. Unlike my father, she was American with blonde hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. "Call me Andrea, please." She's a very strong woman. I give her that. If anyone else were in her place, they would have been crying their eyes out. Or maybe she wants to appear strong, just like I always do. "Do you have anyone we should call?" I tenderly ask because it's late and my dad has been calling me nonstop. I don't even know how Carl's mission ended. "Yeah, my sister," she mumbles sadly. I don't want to leave her here alone, but I have to go. Taking out my phone, I hand it to her, and she takes it with shaky hands. "I will have people watch out for you tonight, and will see you tomorrow, okay?" I tuck the loose strands of her hair behind her ears, making her swollen face visible. If I had a chance, I would kill those fuckers again, maybe this time, more painful for hurting her like this. "Don't worry, dear, I will be fine," she argues, shaking her head. She will not be fine, I know that. "I insist, I can't let anything happen to you again. Please let me," my voice lowers slightly in a pleading manner. I can't watch another woman go through what I did when I can help them, I just can't. She stares into my eyes, and an emotion crosses over hers." Okay, dear, who are you?" she whispers with curiosity. "My name is Kayla." I don't say more than that because if by mistake I say something I shouldn't, she'll be forced to take an oath of silence, and it'll probably put her in more danger. She nods, but I can tell from her eyes, she has a series of questions she wanna ask. What did I expect? She watched me kill people. No innocent girl will do that. "I'll head home now," I place a soft kiss on her cheek and squeeze her shoulder slightly. Heading to the door, her timid voice calls for me, and I stop to look at her. "Thank you," she whispers, a tear finally rolling from her left eye. I wanna hug her and assure her that she'll be okay, but I know I'll be lying to her. So with a nod of my head, I exit the room, but I don't miss the sound of her soft sobs. The world we live in. "Honey, Ana will be your new guard," Dad says as soon as I enter the house. From the experience I had with Thomas, I want someone I can trust and not just anyone, that's why I have already chosen Theo. "Thanks, Dad, but I already asked Theo." Speaking of Theo, I haven't seen him since yesterday, and that is not friend-like. Hopefully, tomorrow is still another day for that. "It's okay, honey, but you should take her with you until he's okay." It's pointless arguing with Dad, so I just nod because I'm so damn tired. "Okay, Dad, good night," I yawn, walking to my room. "Aren't you hungry? I made you food," he enquires with concern. " I'm not hungry." "Okay, I'm heading out. A shipment just came in," he tells me, kissing my temple before grabbing his jacket from the couch. Opening the door to my room, I am startled by the figure on my bed. I release a sigh of relief when I realise it's only Carl. When did he get here? He is lying on his back with one hand supporting his head and the other one across his stomach. I tiptoe towards the bed to check if he's asleep, only to be busted "You kept me waiting, baby," he groggily says with his eyes still closed. How did he know it was me? "I will just freshen up," I hurriedly say, pointing to the bathroom as if he can see. After taking a quick shower, I put on my normal night clothes. A white shirt. I have a fetish for men's shirts because I feel very comfortable in them, especially at night. "Whose shirt is that?" Carl harshly asks immediately I get into bed. I look at his side to find him staring at me with hard eyes. What's wrong with the mood swings? "It's mine, Carlos. I have plenty of them in my closet," I explain, draping the blanket over me, and his demeanour softens immediately. Why does he always do that? "Fuck" he sighs before turning towards me. I face the opposite side from him, and after a while, he wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer to himself. I don't stop him. "What are you doing to me? " he murmurs to himself.