Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
I give a start.
Saverio freezes.
Light spills into the somber interior, fanning out to every corner and cutting wedges over the walls. A rush of crispy, cold air barrels down the aisle.
My body breaks out in goosebumps. I notice everything—how quickly that frosty bite dispels the comfortable temperature, the way the sunbeams light up the stained-glass windows in reds and greens, the smell of the wintry afternoon tainted with burnt meat from the food cart across the road, and the crooked line of smoke from the incense on the altar as the thin ribbon bends toward the breeze.
A murmur rises from the pews.
Saverio jerks his face toward the doors.
Someone opened them.
Confusion rides on the disoriented quiet that follows as the priest goes still and everyone turns in their seats.
I blink my eyes to adjust to the too-bright, too-sudden light.
A man stands in the open doors. His silhouette is black against the pure white snow outside. The shape is stocky and squarish, the neckless head attached straight to the shoulders.
For a moment, I think he’s not human, that he’s a ghost from our past, a man knifed down in an alley who came to contest our union from the grave. But then another three dark figures appear behind him, and the illusion dissipates. I notice the outlines of the automatic firearms in their hands at the same time Dante shouts, “Get down.”
Dante’s warning is not yet cold when Saverio grasps my shoulders and spins me toward the altar, placing his body like a shield between me and the danger.
A scream catches in my throat as gunshots tear through the space. The air is squeezed from my lungs when Saverio wraps his arms in a death grip around me. He hunches over, covering my length while pulling me into the protection of his chest.
More shots ring out.
Saverio’s body jerks against mine as if he’s caught in a hailstorm.
A wave of panic rolls through me. “Sav!”
He grunts as another round of shots goes off, each explosion an onslaught that rips into his back and shakes him violently. I feel every one of those bullets that eats into his flesh. The force of the blows tears him apart, again and again, but not once does he loosen his arms around me.
“Sav!”
I cling to him.
This can’t be happening.
It’s just a nightmare.
Please, wake up.
Gunpowder fumes and weeping hang in the air while the candles burn tranquilly, their flames winking from the shadows. The soft flickering of the golden light adds to the illusion that we’re only trapped in a bad dream. Yet the trickle of blood that runs down Saverio’s neck and splashes in red blotches on my white dress is real.
Survival instinct kicks in. My brain shuts down. I don’t think about the bullets or the grunts of the men going down around us. I don’t think about how badly Saverio is wounded. That’s for later. All I focus on is getting him away from here. Getting him help.
“Get out, Sav!” I slam my fists on his chest. “Move! Now!”
A flower arrangement explodes next to us, petals and stems flying everywhere before raining down on the carpet runner.
I reach for Saverio’s hands that are locked behind my waist, needing to pull him to the side door, but he only tightens his steel grip, caging me in between his arms and the solid wall of his battered body.
“Grenade,” someone yells.
I stop trying to break his iron hold and look over his shoulder. A black, elongated shape rolls down the aisle.
Dear God.
Dante is right there. He kicks the grenade toward an alcove before diving behind the communion table.
We go down to the floor, my stomach bottoming out as the earth gives way under my feet. Somehow, Saverio manages to catch my body and cushion my head with his big hands to soften the fall. He lies over me, holding his weight on his arms, and stares at my face as if it’s the last time he’ll see it.
An explosion rocks the side of the church.
Saverio grunts.
“Sav,” I sob, hysteria taking over.
He frames my face between his palms and forces me to look at him, smiling through the pain that’s etched on his beautiful features. “Listen to me, tesoro.”
I hold him to me and fist my hands in his jacket at his back. My fingers brush over torn fabric and sticky wetness.
Fighting him again, I say, “No!” We have to get out of here.
“Anya, listen.”
His soft tone makes me pause. I blink to clear the tears that blur my vision.
He brushes them away with his thumbs. “You’re going to be an amazing mother.”
“No!” I cry through the sobs racking my chest.
“You’re going to see your son grow up into a man you’ll be proud of.”
“Saverio, please!”
“You’re going to find a man, a good man, and you’re going to have plenty more babies.”