Code of Silence (16 page)

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Authors: Heather Woodhaven

BOOK: Code of Silence
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Luke's throat tightened.
What do we do now, Lord?
Their only chance of being able to walk away from the mafia had just been killed.

Luke also proved no use to Gabriella. He couldn't shoot off the gunmen one by one. He was no match against them, especially with his other shoulder throbbing from the impact of the asphalt. The muscles around that shoulder went into spasms. He tried to move his arm, and severe pain rushed past his upper back to his spine. Luke knew that feeling. He'd had it once before after a particularly intense “dogpile” with his brothers—he'd dislocated his shoulder.

“Luke, talk to me,” Gabriella cried.

The gunman who investigated Rodrigo shook his head in disgust and walked past them to the sedan. Luke cried out through the pain and moved his right hand to his waistband. “Gabriella,” he whispered.

Her eyes widened and she leaned forward. He pulled the gun from its hiding place and slipped it into her waiting hands. Her face paled.

“You have to be okay,” she said.

“Cry more,” he whispered.

Her eyes widened for half a second before she understood what he was asking. “Luke,” she wailed. She moaned and when she moved her shoulders as if crying, she took the gun from his hand.

She would never make Broadway, but he hoped it would do the job. She attempted to hide the gun in the front of her own waistband. It slipped from her grasp and slammed into his torso. The weight rushed all the air from his lungs and his heels lifted off the ground. “Oof.”

“Luke,” she cried. Gabriella curled over him, this time genuinely distressed. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered. She grabbed the gun and tucked it underneath the hem of her shirt.

“Enough,” Benito said. “You can't save him now. Throw over the bag.”

Luke exhaled. So at least they thought he'd been shot. The second gun poking into his back started to register over the pain in his shoulders and hip. Benito's little statement proved the men would make sure Luke's heart had stopped beating before they left the property.

SEVENTEEN

G
abriella placed two hands over her stomach—where the gun resided now—as she stood. Her shoulders hunched, she turned, bent over and lifted the canvas bag from the ground. “Who wants it?” she asked. Her voice cracked at the end of the question.

What were her options? What little plan she'd formed in her mind had been ruined. Rodrigo was dead. She had nothing to offer Benito to keep them alive. Except the coins...though she had no idea where Mom had stashed them and no one to corroborate they even existed.

Benito pointed a thumb to the gunman who'd resumed his stance in front of the passenger door where her aunt waited. Gabriella gripped the handle of the canvas bag. She could hurl it as hard as possible and hope it knocked or at least stunned the gunman enough. But Benito still held a gun, and if she threw it too far...

Gabriella stiffened. A slight movement and light streamed in between the gunman and the sedan. Was her aunt sneaking out the other side of the car? The driver had been shot, so maybe her aunt took the chance to run away and hide?

“Here,” she said. She took two steps forward, willing the gunman to keep eyes on her. Gabriella reached her arm out as far as her strength would allow. The bag's weight strained her bicep and shoulder. “Take it,” she said again.
Please keep Benito's eyes on me, too, Lord.

The gunman crossed the distance. His fingers lingered on her wrist for a second. Acid rose up her throat until his touch disappeared, taking the bag with him. Blue... The robe was still in the passenger seat, but her aunt had gone out the other side.
Help her run, Lord. Give her strength and wit to hide. Keep her mind clear.

“It's all there,” Gabriella blurted. She needed to keep their eyes on her for as long as possible. If he turned around...

“Leo. Check it,” Benito ordered.

The gunman dipped his hand and unzipped the bag. He rifled around the bag for a few minutes. “There's a lot here. Audio cassettes, photographs, a ledger...want me to look for anything in particular?”

“No, that sounds about right. You make any copies?”

She didn't hesitate to answer. “With your guy Rodrigo here? No. I barely made it here in time.”

“Rodrigo stopped being my guy the moment he tried to take my rightful place.” He raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. You wanted to offer Rodrigo to me.”

Her insides squirmed. She didn't want to mention her aunt again lest they notice her absence. “There may be more to it,” she said.

Benito held his hands out, shrugging with the gun in his hand as if it were simply a decoration. “Let me make this crystal clear. Your aunt's chart may have mentioned something about dementia, so I might be willing to let her go, but the only way you're walking away from here, sweetheart, is by agreeing to work with me.” His eyes pierced her. “On a probationary basis.”

In other words, she'd be worse off than the messed-up family system her mother grew up in. Benito's sidekick zipped up the bag and sent her a wink. Gabriella's lip curled in disgust.

“She's not going anywhere.” Her aunt's voice wobbled.

The gunman turned toward the voice. Her great-aunt held a gun, her shoulders covered by a floral nightgown barely visible over the black sedan. Gabriella's mouth dropped. Aunt Freddie must have taken the gun from the deceased driver.

“Keep moving, Leo, and I blow off your head,” her aunt hollered.

Benito spun, gun in hand, toward her aunt. Gabriella regained her senses and yanked her gun from its hiding place. “Freeze, Benito!”

His eyes narrowed. The same disbelief Rodrigo initially showed her demonstrated on his face. “One thing my mom did teach me was how to shoot. If you knew her as you claimed, you know she took that very seriously.”

The gun Benito trained on her aunt lowered slightly. His eyes darted to Leo.

“Don't even think about it,” Luke said, his voice strong. “Drop it. Now.”

Gabriella dared a look out of her peripheral vision. Luke had flipped over on his stomach and was propped up on his elbows with a gun aimed at Leo, as well. “You heard the man,” she said, her voice as strong and sure as her heart.

Leo narrowed his eyes.

“Nice and slow,” Gabriella warned.

Leo raised his hands up in the air and dropped the gun.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” her aunt hollered. “I changed your diapers, young man.”

Benito ground his teeth together. “You don't go against the family, Amalia. You knew the consequences.”

“That's not my name anymore. Have some respect,” her aunt snapped.

Gabriella almost laughed at her aunt's reaction. Freddie had always been a force to be reckoned with as she grew up, but lately, ever since Mom had died, she'd become fragile. She spoke rarely and, since battling the early stages of dementia, the times she did speak rarely made sense.

Gabriella's eyes widened. Although, hadn't Freddie once called Gabriella, Renata? Her mom's real name... She blinked back the sudden hot tears as pieces clicked in place. The combination of exhaustion, adrenaline and shock hit at once. Her hand started to shake. “Just leave,” she said. Her voice no longer sounded strong but more like a plea.

Leo dove for her gun.

A gun went off. Gabriella couldn't see who shot, but she hadn't pulled the trigger. Leo wrestled to pull her arm back. She struggled against his pull, turning herself away, yanking her arm back. Agony ripped through the muscles of her shoulder and chest, but she refused to let him pry the gun from her hand.

She attempted to step on his foot, but Leo jumped back. He shoved her. Gabriella's knee gave way, and she crashed to the asphalt. The impact sent a stinging sensation up her bones, and she cried out.

Leo's hands moved to her neck. The sudden pain and lack of oxygen almost blinded her. She thrashed against him, and the grip on her gun loosened.

A fist soared above her forehead and straight into Leo's jaw.

Leo's fingers flew away from her throat. She dropped the gun and held her neck. Every breath hurt like sandpaper stuck inside her throat.

Leo popped off the ground and punched Luke in the stomach. Benito writhed on the ground, holding his chest with his left hand. Aunt Freddie's face looked ashen. She was staring at the gun she'd once held firmly, confused. Oh, no.

Leo fought for Luke's gun.

Gabriella raised her own gun in the air and shot it three times. “Stop,” she cried.

The sound of squealing tires hit her before she spotted the source—a police cruiser ramped up the driveway. Gabriella's stomach quivered. The question was who were they here to help? The mafia or her?

Two police officers jumped out of the vehicle. “Freeze. Drop your weapons.” A second police cruiser screeched to a stop beside it. A dark blue Dodge Charger parked behind them both. Two men in suits jumped out. “FBI.”

Gabriella let the gun fall from her fingertips. She closed her eyes in relief. “Thank you,” she whispered. Running footsteps approached. She opened her eyes in time to see the officers taking aim at Benito and Leo.

“Which one of you called the police?” an officer shouted.

Gabriella looked around, as if almost expecting someone to raise a hand. Someone had called the police? Her gaze drifted to her aunt, who was handing the gun to an officer. “Did I kill someone?” she asked, her voice shaking. Her eyes had the lost look.

Her chest tightened. Oh, no. “No, no, she didn't,” Gabriella called out. “You saved me, Aunt Freddie.” The officer closest frowned. “I think she's the one that called the police,” Gabriella explained. “Check the phone from the man closest to her. My aunt struggles with dementia but was lucid when she got his gun. She saved me from being shot. Please be gentle.”

The men in the suits walked around the car. “We got a tip from a Mrs. McGuire?”

Luke raised a hand. “That's my mom,” he groaned. Luke turned to Gabriella. “You going to be okay?”

She nodded. “More than okay.”

A half smile crossed his pale face as his eyes rolled back, and he dropped to the ground. His body crumpled against the asphalt, his head bouncing slightly up after impact.

“No,” she cried out. She launched herself to his side on her hands and knees. The officer leaned down and tried to grab her arm. Gabriella flung his hand away from her. “No, please. You have to help him.”

She reached for Luke and picked up his head. Hot liquid met her touch. His hands were limp at his side. The angry red area around his shoulder spread, and a line of red streaked down the side of his jeans. Her head lightened at the sight. She sat down fully, careful to lay Luke's head down softly. Her mouth tasted salty as tears ran freely.

She looked up at the officer. “He needs an ambulance. He's lost so much blood.”

“Ma'am, we called one the moment we got here,” the officer replied.

His partner shoved Leo, bound in handcuffs, past the sedans to the police car. Benito leaned up against the tire of the black sedan, holding his shoulder, while one of the suits drilled him with questions and tapped on what appeared to be Benito's smartphone.

The wail of sirens approaching confirmed the officer's statement. Gabriella grabbed Luke's right hand and squeezed it. “You stay with me, Luke McGuire. You're not about to get out of this friendship so easily this time.”

The screech of brakes and the abrupt end of the sirens meant the paramedics had arrived. Gabriella kept her eyes locked on Luke's face. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.

The words rushed warmth up her spine. Her heart beat faster. Saying the words aloud somehow made it feel even stronger in her core. It was true. She loved this man deeply.

A female wearing a navy pullover with a paramedic logo stooped in front of her. “Ma'am, I'm with Treasure Valley Paramedics. I'm going to assess your injuries now, okay?”

Gabriella shook her head. “No, take care of him.”

“They are, ma'am. I'm here for you.”

She blinked and noticed two men preparing to lift Luke onto a stretcher. They counted and lifted at the same time. Luke's fingers slipped from her grasp.
Please don't let it be forever, Lord.

* * *

Something pulled on his skin, stinging. Luke blinked. The sight of white walls and a stranger hovering over him jarred him awake.

“Mr. McGuire,” the lady in blue scrubs said. “Glad to see you awake.” She jostled a red bag onto a metal stand. The tube led to his arm. Ah, the pinching. “We got to you just in time. A little more of this and in a few days I imagine you'll feel much better.”

A man in a suit stepped inside. Luke's heart launched into overdrive, and he stiffened. “Who are you?”

“I'm your protection detail, Mr. McGuire. Everything okay?”

The nurse nodded. “He's awake. That's a good thing.”

The man nodded. “Will he be able to answer some questions in a few minutes?”

The nurse straightened. “I'll need to ask the doctor.”

Movement at the door caused his heart to race until he spotted her beautiful face. Gabriella touched the suit's elbow. “It scared me when I didn't see you at the door.”

The man winked at Gabriella. Luke exhaled. If Gabriella trusted the man, Luke probably didn't need to demand identification. “I'll wait outside,” the agent said.

The nurse also smiled, as if in on a secret. “I'll let the doctor know you're awake.”

In a split second the room cleared. Gabriella remained at the door. Two braids on either side pulled her hair away from her face. An array of small scratches covered her right temple. She wore a navy crocheted blouse. Her right hand cupped the area close to a hot-pink bandage wrapped around her elbow.

Luke tried to sit up.

She dropped her arm and reached out. “No, don't move. You've barely been out of surgery for an hour.”

Surgery? He struggled to think of the last thing he remembered but drew a blank. Luke glanced at the bandage across his shoulder. They must have removed the bullet and stitched his muscles back together. At least he hoped they could do such a thing. Pink gauze wrapped around her arm, just above the elbow. “You're hurt.”

She frowned. “No. They gave me the all clear an hour ago.” She glanced at her elbow. “This? I just gave blood.”

“No more allergic reaction?”

“Thankfully not.” She gestured at the metal pole. “You're on your second transfusion,” she whispered and looked away, blinking rapidly.

Luke tried to decipher what was happening but every word seemed stuck in a mind fog.

“They encouraged friends and family to donate,” Gabriella said. Her eyes brightened. “Speaking of which, your family is on the way, on a plane as we speak. Everyone agreed it would be safest that way, since there is so much airport security already. They'll have escorts the moment they leave the airport.”

“They are? They will?” Luke imagined the state of his current home. Probably not up to snuff to host his family right now. “Everyone?”

“Your parents plus your brother David and his wife, Aria. The rest of your relatives are staying where they are but have been assigned protection. I have plenty of room at the house if they need somewhere to stay,” she added, as if she knew where his mind would track.

He remembered the seemingly frail lady wearing a nightgown in a black sedan, who'd pulled a gun on the mafia. The monitor confirmed the heart rate increase at the thought. “How's your aunt?”

Gabriella smiled softly. “Even now you're thinking of others. She'll be fine. Thanks to you.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Please. I hardly did anything. Seems like the Lord turned every failed plan and attempt into success.” He smirked. “Painful maybe, but we're alive so I call that a success.”

If there was protection outside his door did that mean they were still in danger? The thought seemed to jar some of the sleepiness away.

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