My fingers found the trigger .
The gun was cold . The knife was colder . Alessio stood there , hands up , chest bleeding through black , giving me two ways to destroy him.
Choose , principessa.
The moretti men waited . Four if them . Scared leader in front , smiling , like he already owned me . " Tick Tock , De Luca . Your wife's shy ."
I wasn't shy . I was terrified. But terror looks a lot like rage when you're holding a weapon.
I lifted the gun .
Alessio didn't move. Didn't blink . He just watched me like he'd watch me change. Like he was memorizing me in case this was the last time .
" You told me not to point it at you ," I said. My voice didn't shake . Good .
" Changed my mind." His mouth twitched . Not a smile. A dare . " Prove them you are mine wife. Shoot . "
The safety was off. I'd flicked it without thinking. Thumb knew what my brain didn't. He taught me that . Without teaching me .
" Last chance," the Moretti leader said . " Give us the girl , De Luca . Or we–"
I shot him .
The sound cracked the alley open . His smile vanished with the top half of his head . He dropped. The other three frozen for half a heartbeat.
That's all Alessio needed .
He moved like death . One step , two , and his gun was up . He fired three times . Three bodies hit concrete.
Silence again. Except for the ringing in my ears . And Alessio's breathing. Ragged now . Worse than before .
I was still holding the gun up . Still pointing at empty air where a man used to be .
My hands didn't shake . But my whole body did .
Alessio crossed to me . He didn't look at the bodies . He looked at me . At my face . At my mouth. At the gun .
He took the knife from my other hand . Slow . Careful. Like I was the one bleeding.
Then he used it .
Not on me . On himself.
He sliced his palm open , fast and clean . Blood welled up , dark in the warehouse light . He closed his first around the blade, let it drip onto the concrete between us .
" Moretti's law ," he said . His voice was wrecked. " You want her marked? She's marked."
He stepped into me . Too close . His bloodied hand came up and he dragged his thumb across my bottom lip. Same place he'd left blood before . Claiming me twice . Claiming me in front of the dead .
" Mine," he said . Not to them . To me . Or maybe to God . " Law or no law . Bullet or no bullet . Mine ."
I couldn't breathe. The gun fell from my hand and hit the ground. I didn't care .
" You're insane," I whispered.
" I'm dying," he corrected. He swayed. Just once . Then locked his knees . " There's a difference."
He turned away from me , toward the bodies. He went to the leader, crouched , and patted him down with his good hand . Found a phone. A second gun . Car keys .
He tossed the car keys to me . I caught them. Didn't know I could until I did .
" Drive," he ordered. He was already walking back to our car , leaving the Moretti SUV and four corpses behind like trash . " You're driving now."
" I don't– "
" You do. " He opened the passenger door and fell into the seat . Not sat . Fell . His head tipped back against the rest. Eyes closed. " Hospital. Now . Before I pass out and you have to dig the bullets out all by yourself again."
Panic hit . Cold and sharp . " You said you didn't want a hospital. You said–"
" I said a lot of things." His eyes opened . Black and empty and fixed on me. " Shoot me , I said . You didn't. That means you chose . You chose to keep me . So keep me alive , principessa."
I ran around the car . Got in the driver's seat . The keys shook in my hand before I jammed them into the ignition.
The engine turned over . I didn't look at him. Couldn't. If I did , I'd see how gray he was . How much blood was on the seat .
I peeled out of the alley. Back into the city. Back towards light and people and hospitals that would ask questions I couldn't answer.
" You killed a man," he said after a while . Quite. Not accusing . Stating fact .
" So did you ." My hands were locked on the wheel at ten and two . Like my driving instructor taught me . Like any of this was normal . " Four."
" Five, counting the stairs ." He laughed. It turned into a cough . Wet . Bad . " You're at one . I'm winning."
" Don't talk."
" Make me."
I slammed the brakes at a red light . Turned on him . " You want to die ? Is that it? That's what a smart ,an does . "
" You're not smart."
"No." He smiled. Bloody teeth . Real this time ." I'm yours. You break it , you bought it , remember?"
The light turned green . I drove .
Ten minutes later, the hospital came into view. White . Clean . The opposite of us .
" Pull around back," he said. " ER entrance. Don't park . Leave the car running."
" Alessio–"
" Do it ."
I did . I skidded to a stop under the car running . Door slid open . Nurses looked up.
He reached for the door handle . Missed . His coordination was going.
I got out , ran around, and hauled his door open . He was heavier than he looked.
Dead weight. But not dead . Not yet .
"Help!" I screamed it . Didn't care who heard . " He's been shot! three times!".
Orderlies ran out with a gurney. They got him on it . He didn't fight them . Didn't have the strength.
But he caught my wrist. Grip like iron even now .
" Tell them I'm John Smith," he rasped. " No ID . No cops . Cash only ."
" What?"
" Tell them ." His eyes bored into mine." Or they call the police. And the Morettis find us . And you die ."
The orderlies were pushing the gurney . Taking him from me .
" Alessio!" I ran after them . " Wait!
He lifted his head off the gurney. One last time . Looked at me . At my mouth. At his blood still on it .
" Wipe it off now , principessa," he said . Voice fading . " Or they will know what you are."
The ER doors swallowed him .
I stood there . In the exhaust fumes and fluorescent light. In clothes he bought me . With his blood on my mouth . With his gun on the floor of his car and his knife in my pocket.
I didn't wipe it off .
The cop behind me said ," Ma'am? We need to ask you some questions."