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,